#the way through is just to wander off the track and say 'oh i think i'll just dally for a while over here in the grass'

[novasintheroom]

024. Found

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 0.9k

♡ Warnings - none

♡ Description: You've both been keeping track of each other's letters.

Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3

Part 1 ---- Part 2 ---- Part 3 ---- Part 4 ---- Part 5 (you are here!)

The air sizzles with aroma and spices in the cooling night. It’s been a long first day of travel, and Vash can feel his stomach gnawing at his insides in anticipation. Can you blame him? You’re cooking one of his favorite meals, and he hasn’t had it in near a decade.

He does his best not to hover. You need space to move, and you’ve already slapped his wandering hand away from the sliced sausage twice. So, he putters around camp, unpacking essentials, sleeping bags, feeding your tomas her pellets. She’s small for her kind. She blinks gratefully at him when he offers his canteen of water for a sip.

“There you go,” he murmurs, petting her neck as she drinks. “It’s nice to have some water, huh?” He caps the canteen when she shakes her head, finished. “You’re lucky, you know? Getting to travel with her all this time…makes me a bit jealous.” He lets out a small laugh and gives her a good pat on her side.

“What are you muttering to my bird, Stampede?” You call from the fire, a curious and teasing lilt to your tone.

He smiles, finishing up and heading back. “Just wondering how she’ll taste if I cook her. You’re taking forever with dinner. Ah!” He dodges the bit of sand you kick his way. He warms at your laughter. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me.” You retort, settling back down and stirring the meat and sauce in the pan. “It’s almost done. You think after how long you’ve lived you’d have some patience.”

Vash huffs and takes a seat. It’s automatic, his hand reaching to his pocket with your folded and refolded letters in it. The firelight and cool air act like Pavlov effects on him. He pulls one out, then stops and stares at it, wondering how it got there.

You eye him from the side. “What’s that?”

He blinks and clears his throat. “Oh, just…one of your letters.” He acts like he’ll fold it away again but stops. This is weird. How does he play it off? He sees you still and feels a blush creep up his neck. “Must’ve…uh…”

A shuffling draws his attention. You’ve started rifling through your pack. He watches. In a moment, you pull out what looks to be a deep metal box, dented. It squeals when its lid opens on rusty hinges. You pull out a tied pile of letters and show it to him. Tentatively, he takes them from you. He recognizes his handwriting. It’s the letters you’ve kept yourself.

His breath leaves through his nose, and he glances up at you. “You…kept all of them?”

“Of course I did! I loved getting your letters.” Your emphatic reply almost bowls him over. He hadn’t even thought…

Suddenly, he reaches into his pockets again and drags out the letters you’ve written, piling them to his side as the papers come out. All of them are folded and refolded into small squares, trying to take up as little room as he can so he can get more. He’s careful with them; he really should have tied them together like you had, but he was always so busy and always ready to just whip one out and read it…As the letters come out, his ears redden at your gasp.

“Are those…? You kept all of them?” Your eyes shine with something he can’t name.

He pauses and gives you a shy look. “I…really loved getting your letters, too.”

You reach out and take one, gently unfolding it. The paper is worn and torn, the ink faded from weathering what the Humanoid Typhoon goes through daily. Your eyes scan over it, jumping here and there. You laugh at the end. “I always had to take so long to come up with a joke at the end of each one. I’m not gifted in corny jokes like you are.”

Vash snorts and unfolds another letter of yours. “I’m gifted, what can I say,” he mumbles. His eyes can’t read the words in front of him. They’re too drawn to the woman sitting just a few feet away. He watches your expression as you read your letters again, one by one, laughing and remembering what you’ve written. His own lips quirk up. “Hey,” he says, and waits for you to look up, “Where do pirates get their hooks? Secondhand stores.” He drums a beat on his lap and ends with a ‘tss.’

You groan and roll your eyes. “Boo, get off the stage.” You sidle up closer though, reaching for one of his letters and opening it up. “You remember this one? ‘What do you call a sad cup of coffee?’”

“Depresso!” He laughs and grabs at one of your letters, eagerly opening it and looking at the bottom for your joke. “Which is faster, hot or cold?”

You hum for a moment, eyes squinting. “I can’t remember this one. What is it?”

“Hot, because you can catch a cold.”

“Ha! That’s a good one.”

So it goes for the hour and into the night, both of you opening each other’s letters again like new presents and telling bad jokes over dinner. And maybe your fingers brush when you reach for the papers, maybe they linger just a little longer than needed. One thing is for certain – there will be no need for letters again, not while you two are together. Not when you’ve been found again.

#trigun #vash the stampede #trigun stampede #tristamp #writing #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #reader insert #self insert #nova writes #trigun x reader #150 bullets

[pucksandpower]

To the Moon and Back

Lando Norris x astronaut!Reader

Summary: not many people can say “I love you to the moon and back” literally … but you’re the exception

Based on this request

Happy Valentine’s Day, my loves 🫶

The roar of the engine echoes through the car as Lando revs the McLaren 720S Spider. You glance over at your boyfriend and can’t help but smile. His eyes are bright with excitement beneath his helmet.

“You ready for this, love?” He asks, giving your hand a quick squeeze.

You nod, adrenaline already pumping through your veins. “Let’s do it.”

As an astronaut, you’re no stranger to G-force. But taking a hot lap around the race track with Lando is a different kind of thrill. The track marshall gives a thumbs up and Lando eases the car out of the pit lane. He takes it easy for the first few turns, warming up the tires.

“How’s it feel?” He asks.

“Smooth,” you reply. “Can’t even tell we’re going 200.”

Lando grins. “Oh just wait.”

He floors it down the back straight, pinning you back against the seat as the speedometer climbs towards 320 kilometers per hour. The G-force builds as he brakes hard into the next corner, expertly controlling the slide.

You let out an exhilarated whoop. “Now that’s more like it!”

Lando chuckles. “Barely getting started, babe.”

The next few laps are a blur of adrenaline and speed. Lando dances the McLaren through the corners, braking impossibly late before powering out in a controlled slide. You relish the forces pressing you back into your seat, so similar yet so different from a rocket launch.

As you pull back into the pits, crowds of fans erupt into cheers. Lando parks the car and hops out, pausing to take off his helmet and run a hand through his curly hair before coming over to help you out.

“So, what did the astronaut think?” He asks with a playful grin.

You’re still catching your breath, heart pounding. "That was insane! What a rush."

Lando looks pleased, keeping an arm wrapped around you as you’re swarmed by fans seeking autographs and photos. Most want a moment with their favorite driver, but a few recognize you as well.

“She’s the astronaut girlfriend, right?” Someone asks.

You nod, giving a little wave. “Yep, that’s me!”

The fans seem impressed that you were able to handle Lando’s hot lap so easily.

“Wow, you took those Gs no problem!” A teenage girl remarks.

You laugh. “Well, I have some practice from launch and re-entry.”

“You must be fearless to be an astronaut,” adds an awe-struck boy.

“It’s intense for sure,” you agree. “But so rewarding.”

Lando smiles proudly, giving you an affectionate squeeze. “My girl’s a badass. Takes a lot more than some high-G corners to phase her!”

You laugh and pose for a few more photos before Lando regrettably has to head in to prep for free practice. After a quick kiss goodbye, you wander through the bustling paddock, enjoying the infectious excitement in the air on race day.

You’ve just grabbed a water bottle when you hear rapid footsteps behind you.

“Y/N, wait up!”

Turning, you see Lando’s performance coach approaching. He gives you a polite smile. “Got a minute?”

You nod. “For you, always. What’s up?”

He falls into step beside you. “I wanted to run something by you. Lando seems distracted lately during training and physio. Have you noticed anything off with him?”

You frown, thinking back over the last few weeks. Now that he mentions it, Lando has seemed a little distant at times.

“I have noticed he’s been quieter than usual,” you admit. “But I figured it was just nerves or fatigue going into the season.”

Jon nods thoughtfully. “Could be. I know he really wants to impress this year. But as his girlfriend, I thought maybe you’d have a better sense of if anything else is on his mind.”

“I’ll try to talk to him,” you promise.

“Appreciate it,” Jon says. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

You part ways and head out to the pit wall to watch the start of the race. But your mind is only partially on the action, thoughts preoccupied with concern for Lando. He’s normally so upbeat and energetic, but thinking back, you realize there has been a muted quality to him lately that is unusual. You wrack your brain trying to pinpoint if there was a specific incident that triggered this change, but come up empty.

After the podium, you pull Lando. “P3! What a freaking drive," you give him a quick kiss.

His eyes brighten momentarily. “Thanks, love. Feels good to start the season off strong.”

You study his face, wishing you could read his thoughts. “So … can we talk later? Maybe grab dinner in the city before heading back to the hotel?”

Lando shrugs. "Sure, I guess so."

You frown slightly. His response is lacking his normal enthusiasm. But the paddock is too crowded to dive deeper now. “Great, it’s a date!” You say brightly, taking his hand as you both head out to spray champagne. You’ll get to the bottom of this tonight.

After a flurry of post-race obligations, the two of you finally slip away to a quiet restaurant downtown. When the waiter steps away with your orders, you reach across the table to take Lando’s hand.

“So, what’s really going on?” You ask gently. “And don’t say nothing. Everyone can tell something’s been off lately.”

Lando sighs, avoiding your eyes. He runs his free hand through his curls. “It’s stupid, really …”

You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “If it’s bothering you this much, it’s not stupid. Talk to me, babe.”

He’s quiet for a long moment before responding softly. “I’m worried I don’t deserve you.”

You rock back slightly, caught off guard. “What? Where is this coming from?”

Lando keeps his gaze down. “It’s just … you’re this badass astronaut. You literally go to space! And I’m just a guy who drives cars in circles.”

Your heart aches for the vulnerability in his voice. You give his hand another supportive squeeze. “Lando, you’re so much more than that. Yes, I love space. But racing is your passion and you’re incredible at it. You bring joy to so many people. That matters.”

‘I know, but …” Lando trails off uncertainly.

You lean forward, gently tipping his chin up. “No buts. You deserve the world. I’m the lucky one here.”

He finally meets your eyes. “Really?” The doubt is clear on his face.

“Really,” you confirm. “I fell for you, Lando. Not your job or your fame. Your kindness, your humor, your giant heart … that’s what I love.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “When you put it like that …”

“It’s the truth,” you say firmly.

Lando lets out a long breath, his shoulders dropping as the tension eases. “I’ve been in my own head about this for weeks. Should have just talked to you sooner.”

“Well, you have me now,” you remind him. “No more keeping worries bottled up, deal?”

“Deal,” he agrees, lifting your hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Have I mentioned lately how amazing you are?”

You laugh. “It’s always nice to hear.” Your heart swells with happiness to see the sparkle back in his eyes.

Just then your food arrives, and Lando insists you try a bite of his pasta. The conversation flows easily again as you trade stories and banter. With the worry lifted from his shoulders, Lando’s charm and humor are on full display. By the time you meander hand in hand back to the hotel, the moon is high in the sky.

Lando pauses outside your door. “Thank you for tonight. And just … for everything. You’re my whole world.”

“I love you to the moon and back.” You gaze at him adoringly for a moment before adding, “Now, I believe a celebration is in order for that podium today …”

You open the door and pull him inside by his collar as he laughs. As you kiss him deeply, you make a silent promise to always be the safe space he can turn to when doubts creep in.

You’re the luckiest girl in the world to be loved by this incredible man. And you plan to spend every day proving he’s worthy of the same boundless love … to the moon and back.

***

You take a deep breath as you stare out the small window of the shuttle, watching the Earth get smaller and smaller as you ascend into the sky.

This is it. Your first mission to the moon.

You’ve dreamed of this moment since you were a little girl, gazing up at the glowing orb in the night sky and imagining yourself walking across its cratered surface.

As an astronaut with NASA, you’ve completed years of intense training to prepare yourself mentally and physically for the rigors of space travel. But nothing can fully ready you for the surge of emotions that hits you now as your childhood fantasy becomes reality.

Excitement.

Awe.

A twinge of nervousness.

And above all, gratitude. Gratitude for the opportunity to push the boundaries of human exploration. To boldly go where only a handful of people have gone before.

You think of Lando. How his eyes lit up when you got the call informing you that you had been selected for this mission. How he immediately started planning a big celebratory dinner, inviting all your friends and family. How he held you tight before you left for quarantine and launch preparations, whispering “I’m so proud of you” and “I love you to the moon and back.”

Your relationship with Lando has always been anchored in mutual love, trust and encouragement. As a Formula 1 driver, he understands the demands and dangers of your job, the laser focus it requires. When he races, you’re trackside or glued to the TV, cheering him on. When it’s your turn to take the spotlight, he’s equally in your corner, hyping you up and telling anyone who’ll listen that his girl is an astronaut headed to space.

You chuckle thinking back to when you first met Lando at an Engineering for the Next Generation event. Him in his McLaren gear, standing out like a beacon in bright papaya. You in your crisp blue flight suit, NASA insignia shining. Sparks didn’t just fly, they erupted into fireworks.

Fast forward five years and here you both are, thriving in your dream careers, happily together and each other’s biggest fans.

Your daydreaming is interrupted by the voice of the commander crackling over your headset. “Prepare for trans-lunar injection burn.”

It’s time.

You watch attentively as the burn commences, adjusting the shuttle’s trajectory until you’ve escaped Earth’s gravity and are hurtling towards the moon.

The next few days pass in a blur of course corrections, equipment checks, meals, sleep, and anticipation. Then finally, the moment arrives. You feel the shuttle tremble as the engines fire, slowing you down until you achieve lunar orbit insertion.

For the first time, you’re gazing upon the entirety of the moon’s pockmarked surface rather than just a slice of it in the night sky. It’s simultaneously familiar and foreign, a world both near and far.

“We are go for powered descent,” comes the voice of Mission Control. The shuttle shudders as the lander separates, ferrying you and your crewmates down to the awaiting surface. Through the window you watch the grey, dusty terrain rise up to meet you. A perfect landing kicks up plumes of powder.

You’ve arrived.

Stepping outside in your bulky space suit, you marvel at the stark beauty surrounding you. The pitch black sky, dotted more vividly with blazing stars than you could have ever imagined. The rolling plains and hills in muted grays. The unfiltered rays of the sun overhead. And above all, the profoundly silence, unlike anything you’ve experienced on noisy Earth.

You bend down and scoop up some lunar soil, letting it sift through your gloved fingers.

The next two days pass swiftly, filled with collecting samples, setting up experiments, and traversing the alien landscape. Too soon, it’s time to depart. As the shuttle lifts off in a spray of dust, you take one last look at the moon’s cratered face, etching it into your memory.

Returning to Earth, you’re met with great fanfare. Lando wraps you in an enormous bear hug, his relief and elation at having you home safe and sound is infectious. “I’ve missed you so much! Can’t wait to hear all about it,” he holds you tight and refuses to let go.

At the dinner he’s arranged, surrounded by your closest friends and family, you regale everyone with stories about your lunar experience.

Walking in spaces so silent your own heartbeat sounded thunderous. The inexplicable lightness in your limbs from the reduced gravity. Seeing Earth hover above the horizon, a blue and white marble in the void. The sense of wonder at walking upon a heavenly sphere humans have gazed upon for millennia but few have ever touched.

“I’ve always loved you to the moon and back,” you tell Lando, taking his hand. “Now I can say I’ve literally loved you to the moon and back.”

You see his eyes widen as you pull out a small pouch and tip glittering gray dust into his palm — a moon rock. “A little piece of the moon, just for you,” you close his fingers around it.

Lando is momentarily speechless, touched beyond words by your gesture. Then a grin spreads across his face. “You are simply out of this world,” he laughs. “This is going in my trophy case for sure!”

Over the next year, Lando has the moon rock fashioned into a ring, which he wears on race days for good luck. Sure enough, he scores his first ever victory that season, a thrilling achievement after years of near misses and podium finishes.

Standing on top of the podium, Lando whoops and thrusts his trophy high. Then he gazes straight into your eyes and says words meant only for you. “This one’s for the person who has always loved me to the moon and back.”

You beam with joy, pride surging through you. In that moment, all the years of supporting each other through the highs and lows to follow your passions feel profoundly worth it. Because at the end of the day, whether it’s launching into space or racing on Earth, you’re always each other’s biggest fans, connected by a love deeper than any distance — even 768,800 kilometers to the moon and back.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x y/n #mclaren #lando norris one shot #lando norris drabble

[ceilidho]

prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 1. tags: dubcon

-

You duck behind a stack of boxes when you hear Johnny come whistling into the warehouse.

He shouts your name out somewhere off on the other side of the warehouse, voice echoing through the building. You keep absolutely still, fingers clamped around the clipboard that’s pressed close to your chest. Even your breathing slows, open-mouthed so as to keep it almost soundless. It’s strategic. You’ve gotten good at making yourself invisible back here, practically melting into the stack of boxes. 

A minute or two goes by with repeated calls of your name, echoing from different parts of the warehouse like Johnny’s making the rounds. Searching for you. He’s probably been looking around the store for ages, with his track record. Someone must have let it slip that you were assigned to inventory today instead of being out on the floor. 

You only let out a sigh when it’s been long enough that any reasonable person might have given up on trying to find you in the loading dock.

“Hiding from someone?” a deep voice asks from behind you.

Your gut all but self-ejects. When you turn around, he’s standing there in the same bright blue shirt that you also wear. His is stretched tight across his chest though, like it’s a size too small. You wonder sometimes if it’s on purpose. It’s hard not to let your eyes wander, but by now you’ve trained yourself to keep your eyes level when speaking to Johnny. 

“Nope,” you squeak. “Just…you know…counting. Counting boxes and…stacks.”

He laughs, loud enough to make you startle. It’s far too enthusiastic, like you told a particularly funny joke instead of stumbling over your words and you still don’t actually know if he finds you funny or not. 

“Cool,” Johnny says, taking a step closer to you. The clipboard doesn’t feel sufficient enough to put any real distance between the two of you. “Thought I could maybe come hang out with ye back here. Dinnae want ye to feel lonely.”

“Nope, not lonely at all. Totally peachy. Actually glad I could catch a break from…everyone.” You take a step back.

He follows you, another step forward. “Aye, dinnae worry, I get what ye mean. Some of the others—” he whistles, “—right buggers. Glad to catch a break myself as well.”

A bead of sweat rolls down the back of your neck. “Aren’t you supposed to be…out in the front? I, uh, don’t want you to get in trouble with Jeff—”

“Ah, Jeff’s fine, kitty, dinnae worry about me,” Johnny coos, sounding pleased as punch. He takes you at face value instead of reading into the set of your jaw and the way you keep inching away from him as he gets closer to you, convinced that you genuinely in your heart care about whether he gets written up or not. “They fuckin’ love me, ye ken? Think he wants ta take me out for lunch tomorrow, but told him I’d only go if he invited ye as well.”

“Oh. That’s nice,” you whisper instead of screaming. You’re doing that a lot these days. Talking through the scream bubbling behind your front teeth. 

“Would ye want ta then?” he asks, suddenly in your face, three quick steps bridging the gap between you in barely a second, hardly enough time for you to blink. You blink and it’s just Johnny, in startling definition. Thick eyebrows and scar across his chin, the bridge of his nose perfect like he’s never broken it before. “Grab some lunch with me?”

“I, uh…I brought my lunch from home.”

“It’s a’right, I’ll buy it for ye, hen. Dinnae need ta waste your money.” Sometimes when he talks to you, he gets like this, fervent and almost desperate. He seems only half aware of it. “Ye like that mediterranean place nearby, right? Seen ye go there once or twice; wanted ta tag along, but dinnae want ta alarm ye.”

“You saw me go there?” you repeat. 

“Aye, happened ta glance out the window when ye were on your lunch break. Back before management changed my break time. Cheers for that as well because it was really startin’ ta bother me, ye ken? Not being able ta eat with my favourite coworker.” 

You never know how to respond when Johnny lets on a bit too much about how he feels about you. Sometimes he slips up and it comes rushing out, a big spool of thread unwinding in front of you.  

“Yeah, well…I don’t know about today but maybe…” you say, trailing off. There’s a danger in just brushing him off, you feel. 

“Tomorrow then,” he decides, grin still splitting his face. “I’m no’ on the schedule, but I can drop by at your lunch break and go with ye. How’s that sound?”

“Well, you know…it sounds…” He’s close enough now that if you lean forward, you’ll faceplant in between his pecs. Despite everything, you have to slightly fight the urge. Sometimes you think it’d be easier if he weren’t so absurdly gorgeous. It doesn’t make any of his actions okay, it doesn’t excuse his behaviour just because he’s pretty, yet still he pulls you in somehow, magnetic. “It sounds—you know, actually, I think Jeff wanted to talk to me about something, so if you don’t mind—”

Johnny tries to say something, but you manage to duck around him and scurry off, disappearing into the stacks of boxes before pressing forward until you burst out the main doors out of the warehouse. It leads to a hall that goes towards the store, but you haul it to the women’s washroom instead. The one place he can’t follow you inside. 

In the washroom, you can finally breathe. Resting your hands on either side of the sink, you look into the mirror where haggard eyes with deep circles underneath stare back at you. 

You flinch when one of the toilets flush and the stall door opens, another coworker stepping out. 

“Did I hear Johnny outside?” she asks, taking the sink beside you to wash her hands. You nod, still tongue tied. “He really follows you everywhere, huh?”

For a second, your shoulders relax. “God, I know, he’s always just hovering—”

She cuts you off, sighing dreamily. “You’re so lucky. He’s so hot, it’s unreal. I can’t believe he works here, like that’s insane. I’d kill to have him as obsessed with me as he is with you.”

“He’s—he’s not into me, he’s just…you know, he just hovers.”

The water shuts off. Your coworker shoots you a dubious look, almost mocking. “Yeah, alright. Sure. Not into you. Not like he hangs off your every word. You don’t have to be humble—we’re already jealous. It’s like rubbing it in when you pretend like it’s totally normal.”

You slump, defeated, when she leaves without drying her hands. It’s moot to try and commiserate with anyone. They don’t see him the way you do, not for who he is. Your coworkers love Johnny; you’ve seen someone genuinely fistpump after being scheduled with him. 

They don’t see any of the weird shit though. They don’t see the way he insists on walking you to your car well into the evening after a closing shift together. They don’t notice the way Johnny laughs a little too hard and with too much vigour when someone calls him your shadow, his eyes just a little too bright and fervent. 

They’re never around to see him ask if you want to sit on his lap while he shows you how to use the forklift in the backroom. They’ve never seen him beg management to let him take his breaks with you and doesn't let you have a moment of peace, just sits with you in the breakroom or follows you to your car when you say that you're going out for lunch. 

Sometimes you look at him and think, this guy should not be in the Appliance section of a big box store. Johnny should be on the front cover of magazines, in commercials for toothpaste, acting in Hallmark movies, or maybe hand modelling for obscenely ornate watch companies that cost the equivalent of a mortgage—not handing out free samples of sliced cheese.

That was then.

It starts like this: an overeager sales associate who butts his way to the front of the line on your first day. 

You think at first that you’re golden. It seems like a sweet deal—an easy enough job, maybe not what you went to school for, but still something to pass the time and not too backbreaking. Plus, the guy shaking your hand and chatting up a storm in front of you is making you melt inside. He’s easy on the eyes—all bright smiles, effortless charm, either just brushing or exactly six feet, and built. Broad shouldered and lean. 

Johnny’s a model employee as well—knows the handbook inside and out, and shows you the ropes on your first day along with the assistant manager giving you a tour of the store, which is helpful because there’s at least three floors that you could easily get lost on. He walks elderly customers to their cars with their bags, shows up to work early for every shift, always with a smile and a positive attitude, and you find out early on that management loves him because of his frankly incredible sales record. 

(And you get it too; you can’t imagine anyone looking into those gorgeous blue eyes and turning him down.)

He's also a spokesperson for the company in all of their internal training videos because he was hired through some “Jobs for Vets” program that they just rolled out. The guy can also stack things on a shelf like no one's business, products lined up with military precision (hence the ex-military status). 

All in all, you can’t help feeling like for once in your life, you didn’t draw the short stick. 

Then one day, you’re alone with Johnny in the breakroom early in the morning before the store has opened yet and he turns to you with a wide, boyish grin and says apropos of nothing, “Named my fleshlight after you.”

You think your brain skips a couple tracks like a record player. You rewind and replay what was just said to you. There’s no two ways about it—you must have misheard him. Of course you did because surely your coworker of two months didn’t just look you in the eyes and say with a sweet sunshine smile that he named his sex toy after you. 

He doesn’t laugh, just stands there and smiles while stirring sugar into his coffee. He takes it black. You take note of that because the brain still has to work when the mind shuts down momentarily, so you use it instead to catalogue things around the breakroom. One of the motivational posters hanging near the door is hung a bit off-centre. The fluorescent lightbulb on the far side of the room is dimmer than the others. Johnny’s eyes have a little light spot in them like the tip of an ocean wave.

“Excuse me?” you ask, dumbfounded. Your voice sounds hollow even to you.

“I named her after ye,” he repeats, not a trace of shame in his voice. “Used ta not have a name at all, but figured since I say it so much when I’m enjoyin’ her, she might as well share it with ya.” 

He stares at you after saying that, letting it hang in the air. Your brain chooses that moment to come back online and all it can do is load that image of Johnny home alone with his fleshlight, toes curled in his sheets and the muscles of his legs straining as he moans your name. All you can do is give a little awkward laugh, growing more uncomfortable by the second the longer he stares at you without blinking. 

Then, something passes over his eyes and suddenly he's back to normal, laughing and clapping you on the arm before wandering off to the men's apparel section. 

It leaves you reeling for the rest of the day, sure you imagined it. It recontextualizes a few things for you though. He’s always been on the handsy side, verging on inappropriate, but skirting just enough around the edges of it that you usually brush off Johnny’s weird behaviour. Chalk it up to annoying little brotherly tendencies. You know he has a few older sisters anyway; you figured it was just how he related to women in his environment.

Not so. 

It escalates after that initial escalation. Not that things started off on an appropriate note, but at least before you could rationalize most of his quirks.

Now it’s this: his hand on your lower back during work hours when you’re busy helping a customer and he sidles up next to you, pinkie brushing so low on your back that you worry for a second that he might slip it down the back of your pants. Lifting you up by the hips whenever you have a hard time reaching something on a shelf instead of just reaching up and grabbing it for you. A complete misuse of his height. He digs his fingers into your sides and never lets you go right away when he puts you down. 

“Aw shit, bonnie,” he coos when you complain about it hurting you. “Dinnae mean ta hurt ye. Want me to give ye a little massage in the breakroom?” 

You learn quickly that there’s no point in complaining about his behaviour to anyone. You can't complain to any of your coworkers because the second you so much as criticize his work, they bark at you to be nice to him. He's just re-acclimating to civilian life, of course he's not perfect at his job yet, they say. They defend him almost viciously; the real jealous ones even tell on you in front of him, leaving you to stand there embarrassed and on the spot until Johnny just smiles and says that it's alright. That you'll just have to teach him better. 

There’s not much you can do besides grin and bear it. You can hope one day that you'll get transferred; you don't have much hope for him being transferred. Not with how endeared he is to management.

When you finally open the door, ready to leave the bathroom and get back to work, you nearly scream when Johnny lurches off the wall across from the bathroom door where he’s been leaning. Waiting for you.

“C’mon, hen,” he says, all teeth. “Lemme walk ye back ta work.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #soap x you #soap/reader #ikea soap #john mactavish #soap mw2 #soap mactavish #soap cod

[stevebabey]

Eddie is beginning to wonder if he’ll ever reach a point where Steve couldn’t reduce him to this state.

This state being… transfixed. Eddie is sure he must look like a lovesick cartoon. In fact, if he could manage to drag his gaze away, he’d probably find red hearts circling around his head in a halo, popping like little bubbles.

But Eddie can’t move his eyes. Can’t even close his mouth either.

Steve’s talking to him too, which is most definitely worse — he’s totally missing every word. He can see Steve’s lips moving, pink plush lips wrapping around words but fuck, that was a total trap because now Eddie is just looking at his lips. He tries to refocus, to listen. His eyes just wander back to what he was staring back at the first place.

Was Steve like this all the time? Just a walking around looking so damn delectable?

Or is it Eddie, just a starved man who’s been living off stolen glances, for as long as he can remember? For once, he’s learning, he’s allowed to look.

And by God, is he looking.

Steve’s not even doing it on purpose either, which probably makes the whole thing funnier. Eddie knows what his boyfriend (boyfriend! he thinks giddily in his mind) looks like when he’s cleaned up to impress. He can spot the way Steve preens beneath Eddie’s lingering gaze.

This is not that. Today, Steve is just cleaning, a usual Sunday morning ritual.

He’s got some old sport shorts on and he’s clearly grown a bit since he first got them— unless Hawkins has always been giving out slutty little shorts to the basketball team (They haven’t. Eddie would know if they did.)

He’s wearing one of his wife-beater singlets too. It’s a little on the scrappy side though, considering it’s nearly see-through with how worn it is.

Honestly, in Eddie’s humble and gay opinion, it’s stupidly hot. The dark hair dusted across of Steve’s chest is visible beneath it, the shirt showing off the shape of his broad chest. Even better, his happy trail is visible and goddamn, if that doesn’t make Eddie happy, he doesn’t know what will.

But it’s not even that.

Quite frankly, Eddie’s rather embarrassed that he’s basically blue-screening because Steve is pulling out the cord out from the vacuum cleaner.

But… but he’s yanking it up towards his chest, slow and strong repetitive motions— that take enough effort to make his biceps bulge with every tug.

Eddie can’t stop watching. The cord must be several metres long and he’s not sure if he should be cursing it or thanking it for the view he gets; Steve’s tan arms flexing and rippling. Try as he might, Eddie can’t help imagining how they must look when Steve’s got his hand aroun—

“—hello? Are you even listening to me?”

Steve’s voice cuts into Eddie’s dangerously side-tracked thoughts and he pauses his tugging at the same time. It’s the thing that finally allows him to break his lustful stare at Steve’s arms. Oh God, he just got all hot and bothered over his boyfriend doing the vacuuming.

“Hello.” Eddie says back, because that was the first word to register in his brain. “I mean- yes. I’m—”

Eddie decides mid-sentence that he’s not getting away with the lie. He pivots. “Okay, no, I didn’t hear that. Would you please tell me what you just said, oh lovely sweet man of mine?”

Ever the butterer-upper, he was. Thank God it works on Steve. He rolls his eyes a little but there’s an adoring grin on his lips.

“Man of mine,” Steve mutters amusedly under his breath. He drops the vacuum cord on the carpeted floor and leans down the grab the handle of the vacuum. “You just kinda froze when you came in. I was asking if everything was okay? I’m just doing this room then I’ll be done, if you don’t like the noise.”

Eddie adores that Steve’s taken his silence as though he might be afraid of the vacuum cleaner or something. He nearly snorts aloud at how far from the truth it is.

“Uh huh.” Eddie nods, not bothering to correct him. He jerks a thumb behind him, pointing at nothing. “I’m just gonna…”

He spins on his heel and exits left stage, fast as he can while still looking normal (he’s unsuccessful, as he leaves a baffled Steve behind him.) As he enters into the kitchen and decides to fix them both a pot of coffee, Eddie lets himself giggle over the pure absurdity of what just happens.

It’s mortifying. It’s hilarious. He can never tell Steve.

Except, when Steve comes to find him in the kitchen and trades a kiss for some coffee, Eddie can’t help it. All he ever wants to do is make Steve laugh.

He decides it’s worth the embarrassment when Steve laughs so hard coffee comes out his nose.

Steve teasingly promises that he’ll to try be less distracting, then rescinds his words at Eddie’s abject reaction (“Don’t you dare.”) looking far too smug— in a delighted sort of way. Preening, in that way Eddie loves.

Their first kiss, as Eddie slides onto Steve’s lap and loops his arms over his shoulders, fingers dancing on those tasty arms, tastes a little bit like coffee. Their mugs grow cold, untouched.

Eddie doesn’t mind — he’s too busy finding out that the rest of their kisses taste like something between sunlight and Steve.

#have; the thought i’ve been having every time i vacuum #i’m one of those bitches who just like pulls out the cord the whole way when i start #and now i say so is steve #just a lil ficlet to get my writing brain up again #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #it’s always just fluff with me innit #<3 #i dunno how active we all still are…… 🧐 #guess i’ll find out

[imaginidol]

Mingi: Dance Practice

!!mentions of nsfw!! 18 + !! do NOT interact if you’re not comfortable with smut!! okiee here is another naughty atiny request I’ve got for mingi!! this one may be a bit longer than the previous ones but if you stick with it I hope it’ll be worth it ?? 😭 (pls send feedback LMAO) if you’re interested I have a hongjoong ver. smut jongho ver. smut and a san ver. smut, wooyoung ver. smut and a yunho ver. smut ;)

You walked into the dance studio where you and the usual team of ATEEZ backup dancers practiced. Everyone was scattered around the room, stretching and warming their muscles before the rehearsal ensued.

Mingi walked in, wearing a gray hoodie and black sweatpants with large over-ear headphones hanging around his neck.

“Good evening,” he calls out to the room, and a crowd of voices sing a polite chorus of good-evening-Mingi’s in return.

His eyes quickly search the room through the wall mirror until they finally locate you.

A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips at the sight of you. Part of ATEEZ’s current title track called for a very sexy 10-second choreography portion in which each member had a backup dancer partnered to them. You just happened to be picked for Mingi, and you were by all means grateful for the opportunity.

“Okay,” Hongjoong clapped his hands and called for first position.

The practice went fairly smoothly for the first two rounds. Hongjoong called a five-minute break before moving onto the third practice round, and Mingi decided to use this opportunity to talk to you.

“How you feeling?” Mingi grabs your hand and spins you in a circle, watching you twirl in content.

“It’s hard, and it’s definitely interesting, but I think it’s fun,” you pant. “What about you?”

Mingi smiles, taking a sip of his water. “I think it’s fun, too. I think we’re the best duo out of all the members,” he teases.

“There’s no way,” you smirk, nodding your head towards Jongho and his dancer, “those guys easily eat it up every time.”

“Oh, yeah?” he turns, seeing as Jongho placed his hands around his dancer’s waist, practicing the move again even during their break. “We could definitely beat those guys. We should practice more, one-on-one.”

You smirk, nodding in agreement. “That’d be fun, wouldn’t it?”

“Hmm, we could find out,” he says, crossing his arms. “You free to practice tonight?”

“Hmm,” you think, contemplating your transportation assortment to return home afterwards, “could you give me a ride home if I did?”

The boy nods, settling his eyes steadily on you now.

“I could do that for you, definitely.”

—

A few hours after everyone has left for the evening, you and Mingi stay back rehearsing your part a couple times alone.

“Fuck, that could get fun any day,” Mingi pants after the third practice round. He proceeds to pull his hoodie over his head to take it off, revealing a hot peek at his abs as his undershirt went up.

You tried not to stare, but he caught you looking through the mirror before you could turn away.

He scoffed as your cheeks turned a soft shade of red, and proceeded to walk over and plop himself on the floor next to you.

“Wanna take a break?” he asks, nudging your elbow as he lay on his back against the floor.

“We could take a break,” you mutter, deciding to also lie on your back for a moment.

He takes notice, and extends his arm in your direction, offering it as a pillow for your head.

You smile, scooting closer to the boy and resting your head against his shoulder.

Your mind wandered for a moment as you came to the sudden realization that you were practically hugging Mingi… on the floor… alone… during after-hours.

Before you could hobble away to avoid any misunderstanding, his voice softly interrupts the silence.

“Can I tell you something?”

You turn to face the boy, meeting his eyes.

“I like the way you dance.”

Your face felt hot as a reddening wave of butterflies erupted from your stomach up to your cheeks. His eyes grew slightly more hooded as he fixated them on you, a sly smirk crossing his face. The boy winked, and you felt your heart skip several heavy beats trying to read Mingi’s micro expressions.

“I like the way you dance, too,” is all you can foolishly reply, failing to think of any other viable response to the way he was looking at you.

He reaches a finger towards your jaw, pulling your face closer to his. He nodded his head, testing to see if you’d pick up his subtle gestures, and you most definitely had.

You close your eyes as you feel yourself leaning closer to Mingi, bringing a hand up to his jaw as you felt his lips slowly enclose around yours.

You slowly begin to make out with him, feeling your kisses grow messier as each became more and more intimate than the last. He was the first to bring his tongue into it, slowly lifting his body in the process until you were practically underneath him.

He only pulled away for a moment to search your face for any signs of discomfort, but was only greeted by your gentle smile as you reached to wrap an arm around his neck.

“Hey,” he grins. His silver snake chain had found its way out from under his tight shirt and was now flimsily hanging above you.

“Hey,” you giggle back.

“You’re a good kisser,” he whispers.

You smile cheekily at the sight of Mingi hovering over you, one of his arms still cradling your head from the hard floor and the other resting around your waist.

A sudden deep and private desperation for Mingi overwhelms your body, and you can’t help but want to indulge yourself lips-first into the beautiful boy in front of you.

“I can do more than just kissing,” you hear yourself whisper out loud.

Did I really just say that!?

Mingi’s eyes widen at the sudden and unexpected response, a slow smirk forming at the ends of his mouth as he mentally interpreted your words and request.

“Come to my dressing room,” he whispers, tilting his head subtly towards the door.

—

Mingi is the first to take his shirt off as he hovers over you against a soft sectional couch. You sit quietly as you watch the boy’s shirt slide off his arms to reveal a firmly toned torso adorned with his silver snake chain that sparkled under the dim light of a table lamp.

The sight of Mingi’s naked torso is enough to begin stirring heat inside of you, and you feel yourself becoming wet with each touch of his hands against your body.

You outstretch your arms and wrap them around his neck, pulling him into the wide wing of the sectional couch with you. Your lips greet each other warmly, firm kisses bringing your bodies closer together.

“Hey,” he mumbles into your lips. His arms reach towards your hips as he swings your legs around his waist. “You sure you wanna do this?”

You smile warmly at the boy in front of you, planting soft kisses against his jaw as you began removing your top and bra while he helped you slide out of your leggings with ease.

Mingi places his hands between your thighs and slowly spreads your legs as far as you’d go, taking pleasure at the sight of your gracious body in all its glory.

“Fuck,” he mutters, “you’re so beautiful.”

He dives between your legs, his warm tongue caressing the tip of your clit as he blazingly set off every electric nerve of your body.

A soft moan escapes your mouth as the boy traces the curves of your flower’s lips before diving deeper beneath them. You felt yourself getting wetter at the feel of his tongue inside of you, a soft and delicate pleasurable joy overwhelming your insides and lower abdomen altogether.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you whimper, secretly hoping he’d eat you out for a good minute.

Several soft moans later, you pull his head up from underneath you and gently wipe his bottom lip clean with your thumb.

“My turn,” you smirk, offering him your position on the couch.

You begin trailing a line of soft kisses from his jawline all the way to his bellybutton, fixating your eyes into his as you gently began unzipping and removing his pants and boxers.

You wrap your hands gently around his hardening member, jerking him off slowly and firmly as he leaned his head back against a cushion.

You started deepening each stroke with ease as you picked up the pace, pulling sloppily at his hard cock while enjoying the sight of his scrunching face overjoyed with pleasure.

You’re steadily jacking him off when the first grunts start gradually emerging from somewhere deep within his throat. You smile devilishly as you lean in and wrap your lips around his member, pushing it deep into your throat with every persistent motion.

Your performance really begins to emit as you pick up the pace, sucking and slobbering all over his dick as far in as you could manage it. Tears began forming at the creases of your eyes with every vertical stroke of your mouth as you tried desperately not to choke on his size.

“Fuck, fuck,” he grunts, arching his lower back as the throbbing sensation of pumping blood began pounding into every vein of his cock.

You pulled your mouth away, leaving a sloppy mess of saliva and cum behind as you proceeded to climb onto his legs, positioning yourself around his cock to ride against him slowly.

Now that fucking did it for Mingi.

You hadn’t gotten more than ten strokes in when the boy clasped his hands around your ass and turned you over, fumbling you on your back as he climbed over your body.

He began thrusting into you, and he was thrusting hard.

With every rough push into your velvety inner walls, you released a lusty moan, each growing slightly louder than the last.

“You’re… so… fucking… good…” he huffed with each deepening stroke, the sweat glands around his body glossing his clear skin under the dim light.

A jet stream of tears now fully sloshed out of your tear ducts, your quiet moans now full screams of Mingi’s name coming in a loud, looped repetition.

Mingi’s full concentration failed to take alert of the gentle knocking against his dressing room door, your loud moans drowning out any potential chances of catching it in time.

Which is why, it takes him by surprise when the door flings open and in walks Wooyoung.

Wooyoung’s eyes widen as he covers his face, shrieking in embarrassment and fumbling to locate his car keys somewhere on the vanity mirror.

“Close… the fucking… DOOR!” Mingi yells out angrily as he continues to shamelessly fuck himself into you.

“I’m so— I’m so fucking sorry—” is all Wooyoung yells as he retrieves his car keys and fumbles towards the door knob.

“Get the fuck OUT!”

Wooyoung makes a dash towards the door, slamming it behind him as he ran out, not stopping until he eventually got to his car.

Now Mingi was angry.

His whole vibe was thrown off, and he really needed to release.

He pulled your legs from the sides of his waist and wrapped them over his shoulders, now fucking into you at full throttle.

If it wasn’t possible for Mingi to thrust this fucking deep inside of you before, it most definitely was happening now.

You let out desperate screams as Mingi manages to successfully and repeatedly hit your G-spot. Your body tightens, your sweat glands release, and your lower spine arches so far back when you feel the sudden burst of immense bodily rapture as an orgasm ensues, leaving you in a heated, electric trance as your insides release and relax around Mingi’s thrusting member.

Mingi lets out a loud groan as his final ejaculation of hot cum seeps all over your lower abdomen, streams of the warm liquid discharging in large amounts inside and all over your thighs.

“FUCK,” Mingi moans, fighting any more dominant urges over you and instead collapses on the couch next to you.

You both take a minute to ease your breathing, closing your eyes as you reminisced the last half-hour of intimate excitement.

“Princess,” Mingi pants, turning his head towards you, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you offer your best smile, though you could feel already that you wouldn’t be coming into the studio for a few days. Your legs would surely give out by the morning, and you’d be lucky if you could manage to walk anywhere tonight without hobbling around too awkwardly.

“Hey,” Mingi turns, cupping a hand around your jaw.

“Hey,” you smile back.

“Can I tell you something?”

You giggle softly, endearingly looking into the gentle eyes of the boy lying next to you.

“I like you,” he whispers, “I really, really like you.”

You lift your hand towards your jaw where he’s cupped his palm around you, pulling off his fingers and instead intertwining them around yours.

“I like you, too,” you say.

“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he mumbles, “I really want you to be mine.”

You nod gently, closing your eyes for a second to think about your response.

You open your eyes and see that he’s already lovingly staring back at you.

“I could be yours,” you whisper, “I’d be good at that, too.”

maybe a small sfw pt.2 in the future? :)

#kpop #kpop imagines #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez mingi #ateez imagines #Mingi #song mingi #ateez scenarios #ateezedit #ateez fluff #ateez smut #Mingi smut #ateez mingi smut #hongjoong #jongho #Yunho #ateez seonghwa #ateez yeosang #wooyoung #ateez San #Ateez mingi requests #Ateez mingi imagines #Mingi imagines #ateez request #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #ateez x reader #mingi x reader #mingi fanfic

[katsu28]

☕️ steve harrington and "you called me your friend." "was i not supposed to say that?" "you really think i'm just your friend? after these last few weeks?"

anna u have singlehandedly pulled me out of my steve slump with this request thank you i love you <3

steve harrington x reader, 1.8k, join the celebration!

“Steve, we’re gonna be late for the movie.” 

“Who cares?” Steve’s voice was muffled from where his face was buried in your neck pressing kisses to it. You gave the hair at the back of his head a gentle tug, making him retreat to meet your gaze. His eyes were darker than usual in the backseat of his car, hair mussed, lips kiss-swollen. You were sure you looked the same. 

“Uh, the ticket taker, probably?” 

Steve huffed overdramatically, licking his lips. “We don’t have to watch the movie, y’know. We could always just stay here, doing what we’ve been doing. Doing some more stuff, preferably with less clothes…” You shot him an unimpressed look and he sighed, letting you climb off his lap and out of the car swiftly. 

He followed rather begrudgingly, straightening out his wrinkled clothes the best he could, taming his hair back into the artfully messy appearance he’d styled it in before your hands had been through it. “Do I look okay?” 

“Cute as usual, but you got a little something right there, pretty boy,” You said fondly, reaching out and swiping a smudge of your lipstick off the corner of his mouth. Steve’s eyes tracked your hand, not realizing he was leaning into your touch until your knuckles brushed against his cheekbone softly. He cleared his throat suddenly and you retreated, dropping your hand back down to your side. “How ‘bout me?” 

“Beautiful as always.” He laced his fingers through yours, bringing you forward to dot a few kisses against your hairline before tugging you into step with him towards the movie theater. 

The smell of popcorn hit you the moment you entered, the thought of a mountain of the buttery snack in a bucket giving you a little extra pep in your step and Steve noticed, because he gave your hand a squeeze. 

A voice calling Steve’s name from behind the two of you made you both turn around. A boy and a girl were making their way towards you hand in hand, the girl’s free hand raised in a wave. 

From beside you, Steve beamed. “Hey guys! Didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight.” 

“Oh, Nance wanted to watch Labyrinth again.” The boy tipped his head towards his movie partner—girlfriend, you assumed. He looked at you, offering you a small but warm smile. “What about you guys?”

“This is my friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Nance and Jonathan.” He introduced you so nonchalantly you almost scoffed. If Steve still considered you just a friend after all the time you’d been spending with each other and all the things you’d been doing with each other lately, then you’d hate to see what he did with his other friends. “We were just gonna catch that new Matthew Broderick movie, see if it’s any good. You seen it yet?” 

“Not yet, I was gonna see if Will wanted to watch it with me. Seems like something he’d find funny.” Jonathan shrugged. His gaze just so happened to wander down to yours and Steve’s joined hands, but if it surprised him, he kept his composure, opting for a sharp nod. “Well, we won’t hold you. See you Friday, Steve? Hellfire’s meeting at our house this time and my mom’s making pot roast, so you’d better bring your appetite when you come pick up Dustin and the others.” 

“When do I not?” 

“Reliable as ever, Steve.” Nancy joked. “It was nice to see you again, and really nice to meet you, Y/N.”

You smiled at her as best you could, saying a soft goodbye before they made their way past the two of you. 

“You okay? Kinda looks like you just got sucker punched.” Okay, so maybe your poker face wasn’t great. Steve looked genuinely concerned for your well-being, and you hated how it sent your stomach into a whirl. “Are you sick? Fuck, I knew Mike’s nasty cough would rub off on me, that little shit! I can take you home if you want, don’t worry about the movie.”

“I don’t want to go home, Steve.” 

“We can always catch it another day, it’s gonna be here for a month at least, we—” He’d already started to guide you back towards the entrance, but you stopped him with a palm across his chest. 

“Steve, stop. I’m not sick.” 

“Then what’s wrong?” 

You shook your head. “It’s nothing. It’s dumb.” 

“No it's not. Something’s bothering you, c’mere,” He said gently, gesturing for the two of you to step to the side, out of the way so you could talk somewhat in private. “What’s going on?” 

“You called me your friend.” You said quietly, trying to ignore the ugly knot in your stomach. It seemed so stupid now, getting all worked up over something as silly as a single word, but you couldn't lie to yourself. Or Steve for that matter. 

It did feel like you’d gotten sucker punched. 

Steve shot a confused look at you, tilting his head. “Was I not supposed to say that?”  

“You really think I’m just your friend? After these last few weeks?” 

“I thought—hold on, we were on the same page about this, weren’t we? No labels, no defining anything, just you and me.” 

“Well yeah, but that was before you used your stupid charm on me and made me like you and your stupid hair more than I should.” You were more angry at yourself than anything. You should’ve known Steve didn’t feel the same way about you as you did about him, but you’d stupidly given yourself an ounce too much of hope. 

Never mind the days you’d spent together wrapped up in each other’s embrace, talking about anything and everything until the sun set and your eyes grew heavy. Never mind the being on the phone with each other until dawn poked its head above the horizon, the kissing and the holding hands and the sipping coffee silently in the morning until one of you woke up just enough to fold the other into their embrace. 

All of that meant nothing, because you and Steve were just friends. 

“My charm? What are you—what are you talking about, my charm?”

“You seriously don’t know what I mean?” 

“Does it look like I do?” He shot back, then winced. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so sharp.”  

“You got me flowers last week, Steve!” 

“Yeah, ‘cause they were nice and I thought you’d like them!” He exclaimed, gesticulating wildly. You just stared at him, waiting for him to realize your point. When he did, his mouth dropped into a silent ‘oh’. “I—I didn’t mean—” 

This was your worst fear—the reason why you didn’t want to bring it up at all. You had a good thing going with Steve, and now you’d just lost it. “Just forget I said anything, okay?”

“No. No, stay. Please. Talk to me, I wanna talk about this.” He insisted, nodding fiercely. His hands came to plant themselves on your shoulders, then retreated a split second later, like he didn’t know what to do with them anymore. Not even twenty minutes ago, he’d had no problem touching you. 

You hated how things were already changing between the two of you. All because you’d gotten your feelings hurt about something small. 

“I like you, Steve! There it is. I like you, and I don’t know what to do about it because I don’t know what you want from me.” You blurted, voice strained with emotion. You squeezed your eyes shut, digging the heels of your palms against them tightly for a few seconds before refocusing on Steve, who just looked stunned. “Am I just someone you fill your time with because you’re bored, or is this thing between us going somewhere? ‘Cause if it’s not, I’d like to know now. Before I fall for you any more than I already have.” 

As much as you swore to yourself you weren’t going to cry, you could feel the tears welling in your eyes. You bit down hard on your bottom lip to quell them, and Steve noticed. His expression softened like butter and he reached out, rubbing a gentle hand down your arm.  

“Hey, I—I’m sorry. I didn’t know you felt that way, I swear.” Steve’s voice was soft. Comforting. You could tell what you’d just confessed was really eating away at him. That was another thing you liked about Steve. Whenever you told him something, he always took it seriously. “Guess we do kinda need to talk about the elephant in the room.” 

“By all means, you first.” You muttered, folding your arms over your chest. Steve inhaled a sharp breath, letting it out as a heavy exhale through his mouth. 

“I don’t exactly have the best track record with girls. I’m sure you’ve heard about what I was like in high school. I was a dick, plain and simple. I did things I’m not proud of, and I hurt people, but I swear on my life, I’m not that person anymore. I’m not…him anymore.” He looked almost upset with the way his jaw clenched, brow furrowing deeply at the mention of his past. 

You’d heard plenty about the high and mighty King Steve, and part of you didn’t want to believe it. This was the same Steve who helped old ladies carry their groceries and always played basketball with the neighborhood kids when they needed another player. 

“I guess I just didn’t wanna say the wrong thing and jinx what we’ve got going here, because I…I want this to go somewhere. I really like you too, Y/N. And I know it’s only been a few weeks but I—” Steve cut himself off with a short chuckle, raking a hand through his hair and bunching it at the nape of his neck before letting the strands fall back into place. 

His expression was cynical, like he was positive you were about to reject him and leave him here in this dim parking lot and never talk to him again. You weren’t going to, obviously, but Steve was a worst case scenario kind of guy. “I think I’m already falling in love with you.” 

“You’ve sure got a shitty way of showing it, Harrington.” You huffed, but there was no real anger behind your words. In fact, you were looking at him quite fondly, and the way you bumped your shoulder against his seemed promising. 

“Believe me, I know that already. Workin’ on it everyday, though.” He shook his head with another chuckle. Even you cracked a tiny smile at that, sniffling slightly. “Can we start over?” 

“I’d like that very much.” 

“Yeah?” He perked up, looking pleased. You nodded and he beamed even brighter, sticking his hand out for you to shake. “Hi. I’m Steve, I think you're amazing, and I wanted to know if you’d like to watch a movie with me.” 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

#kait's 2k! #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine

[rorywritesjunk]

All I dream of lately is how to get you underneath me

It was Buggy's turn to do your makeup.

Rating: R because the girlfriend can't keep her hands to herself or keep her dirty mind from wandering.

Warning: None really, just suggestive themes. Buggy has a bun because I can't help myself, and chest hair. Mentions of nipple piercings on Buggy because why not? And Buggy is a damn tease as well.

A/N: Sequel to the makeup fic. I wrote two versions of this before deciding the second one was more on track with how the original went. It's inspired by a tag from @sporadicthingcollection from the first fic. Title comes from "Closer" by Tegan & Sara.

Part One is here!

The bath had been comforting, warm, and much needed. This time it wasn't Buggy having a bad day and needing some pampering, it was you. Between losing half your groceries from ripped bags to a pot of water boiling over on the stove and making a huge mess, your foot had also been run-over by Cabaji on his unicycle while you were trying to help some of the performers literally find their marks. It wasn't the first time your foot was a victim to the unicycle, but in the chaos of the day, you didn't think to wear shoes and well, the tread-mark shaped cuts on your foot was a reminder to do so next time.

You toweled off and pulled your robe on, wincing as you limped over to the bed to sit. Buggy was sitting at his vanity, only in his underwear as he unwinded from the day as well. His hair was up in a messy bun, his back to you as he wiped away the day's makeup. It was always a fascinating sight to you, and you knew you were lucky to see him in a near vulnerable state like this.

He rummaged through the drawers of the vanity for something before looking up at the mirror and seeing you reflected back at him on the bed. He smirked, the red around his mouth still prominent, making the smirk appear larger than it was.

"See something you like?" He teased. You flushed at being caught staring. 

"Always." You shot back as you continued watching him, a thought coming to your mind. It was dumb to ask. You both were going to bed in the next few hours, but you didn't know when a better time to ask would be. "Buggy, can I ask you something?"

"Depends." He replied as he looked back at himself in the mirror. "What is it?"

"Um… could you do my makeup?" You asked. "It's just… I like seeing how you do yours and… thought maybe you'd be able to do mine? But I get it if you don't want to, you know, I don't think I really have the face for it."

He pushed his chair away from the vanity and stood up. He didn't say anything as he turned to face you and crossed the room in just a few steps. You wondered if you offended him somehow by the way he grabbed your face when he approached you, staring down at you before smashing his lips against yours in a surprising kiss. You gasped when he pulled away, head spinning as you wondered what the fuck brought that on.

"Thought you'd never ask." He grinned. "Let's get started."

He went back to the vanity and started rummaging through drawers, piling whatever his findings were on the top. You wondered if you should even bother to change into clothes since you would likely end up naked by the end anyway, it would be less of a hassle to stay in your robe.

He came back over a few minutes later and gestured for you to scoot into the middle of the bed. Oh, he was going to do it on the bed, like how you did for him. You scooted to the middle of the bed and grabbed a pillow to stick under your head before making sure your robe stayed closed. He crawled on top of you, knees on either side of your body as you moved your hands to rest over your chest. He didn't need to pin your hands down because you weren't going to grope him like he did to you every time you did his makeup.

Once he settled on top of you and you realized the view you would have, you suddenly realized that oh, you can see why he couldn't keep his hands to himself.

Sure, you had been under him plenty of times, but not like this. For one thing, his thighs were right there. Of course you've been between them, looking up at him from the ground as you sometimes knelt down in front of him while he sat in his captain's chair, his pants undone as your mouth su-

"Babe." He snapped you back to reality. Your face was red. "You good?"

"Y-Yes." You replied as your fingers twitched, needing to be touching something to keep you focused. He seemed to notice and grabbed them, placing them both on top of his thighs, the last place you wanted to be touching right then because you knew them so well. You knew how they felt under you whenever you were straddling his lap, whether it was in bed or his chair, naked, riding him until-

He cleared his throat and you up at him again, turning redder in the face.

"Behave." He teased as he held up two eyeliner pencils near your eyes. He studied them for a moment before tossing one aside and uncapping the other. He then leaned down, face close to your own as he carefully moved the pencil along your bottom eyelid, looking at you but not really. The urge to pull him down for a kiss was there, and you thought the possibility of losing an eye would be worth it if you got to kiss him right then.

He was finished quicker than you thought and kissed your forehead. You realize you didn't specify how to do your makeup. Was he going to do something elaborate or simple? Your fingers tapped nervously against his thighs as you started to wonder if this was a good idea. You had worn makeup a few times in your younger years but it never looked right, so you gave up trying to learn how to do it on yourself.

But damn were you glad to have asked him to do it. It was a different kind of intimacy having him leaning over you, an eyeshadow palette in one hand and a brush in the other as he whispered for you to close your eyes, which you did without hesitation. Your hands stayed on his thighs, moving up and down his thighs slowly, fingers crooking to drag your nails over his skin. You didn't really pay attention to how much you were moving your hands until you felt the fabric of his boxers against your knuckles. You decided to push your luck as you flattened your hands back down and began to slide them up his boxers slowly.

"Babe!" He yelped as he swatted at your hand. "Hey!"

You cracked one eye open and grinned. "Sorry, didn't realize what I was doing."

"Liar." He scolded, looking scandalized by your actions. "I'll sit on you like you do me if you don't watch it."

"Aw, but Buggy!" You whined. "I can't help it!"

"Watch it." He warned as he held the brush threateningly. "Everything else is fair game right now but that. Just wait."

You pouted up at him as you let your hands move to his waist instead, your thumbs running along the waistband of his boxers. He seemed fine with that and you closed your eyes again as he began brushing the eyeshadow over your lids.

It was just hard not to touch him. Before you knew it, you were sliding your hands up his sides, to his chest, your thumbs brushing over his nipples, resisting the urge to tug on the piercings he had there. You felt him flinch when you touched him, so of course you did it again before running your fingers through his chest hair, hands moving up to his neck so your arms could wrap around him. He cleared his throat and you opened your eyes. 

"Okay, I gotta keep you still." He said. "You're getting too handsy."

"But Buggyyyyyy!" You pouted up at him. "I can't help it, really. Just… fuck, you should see what I'm seeing right now. You look so damn beautiful like this."

He blushed but said nothing as he set the eyeshadow aside. He reached back to unhook your arms from around his neck, pushing them above your head suddenly and holding them against the mattress. He held them down with one hand while the other moved to your cheek, stroking your flushed skin softly.

"And if you could see how you looked right now, babe, underneath me like this…” He trailed off as he tightened his grip on your wrists, his other hand now sliding down your body, untying your robe, touching your stomach as it moved between your legs. You inhaled sharply, trying to move your legs apart for him, biting back a moan.

And then he pulled his hand back without even touching you.

“Buggy!” You whined. “Why?!”

“We’re not finished yet, babe.” He smirked. “I still have to do your lipstick.”

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy opla #buggy x you #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x you #one piece #opla buggy #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc

[nhlclover]

i can see you | jack hughes

summary: a secret relationship with your brothers teammate is becoming more and more difficult to keep hidden.

request: yes / no

warnings: semi-nsfw content, making out, implications of sex (i think?)

a/n: based on 'i can see you' by taylor swift. woah look at me posting!!! life got so busy recently so i am so sorry for not posting. thank you guys for the continuous support, it truly means the world. i might open requests again soon but i am balancing my summer job (camp counsellors 4 the win) so it might not be open for long. love you guys loads🩷 also I'm sorry i kinda hate this...

word count: 0.8k

Dawson and you walk into the reception area, taking in the sight of the entire Devil's roster dancing to Abba. You two step off to the side, grabbing glasses of wine from the bar and watching as your brother's teammates slightly embarrassed themselves. 

“Hey, man.” You hear his voice say. Looking to your right, he’s standing there, just feet away, in his new black Prada suit. The same suit you picked out as you spent 2 hours on the phone with Jack going over options. He looked chiselled in the suit which fit him in all the right places. You thanked his tailor in your head.

You never understood why your brother held off on introducing you to Jack. It took a couple of months before you were introduced to him at a game. Then you understood. Jack was the kind of guy you could easily become addicted to. His laugh, his humour, the way his eyes would make you feel like the only one in a room of hundreds.

“Wassup bud?” Your brother says, pulling Jack in for a hug. “You clean up nice. Your mom dress you tonight?”

“Not my mom, but I did have some help.” He chuckles. You know he’s talking about you but you don’t dare react to his comment.

The two of you were unsure how your brother would react to news of the two of you being... whatever you were. But suffice it to say you didn't think it would go well. To save both of you from being killed, you simply kept it a secret. Move fast and keep quiet.

“Oh don’t tell me someone was finally able to strap you down?” Dawson teases, clapping him on the shoulder.

Jack pushes Dawson's hand away giving him a playful shove. He turns to you, your breath catching as your eyes lock with one another. 

“How’re you, y/n?” He asks. 

“Uh just fine, thanks for asking.” You reply.

Brown Eyed Girl begins to play through the speakers and Dawson has already abandoned you in favour of Nico and Timo, who had both discarded their ties. 

“You look fantastic.” Jack says to you.

Your cheeks flush pink. Jack, loving his effect on you, flashes a delightful grin adding to the hue. “Thank you, Jack.”

He shoves a hand in his pants pocket, fishing around briefly before pulling out a small piece of paper. “Here.” Is all he says, pushing the scrap in your hand before walking back to the rest of the group.

You step off to the side, setting your wine glass down and unfolding the paper. Written in Jack's handwriting is ‘meet me @ midnight’. A small, uneven heart is drawn underneath. You smile to yourself, tucking the note into your handbag.

You join the rest of the wedding, spending the remaining hours thinking about Jack's note. The pair of you throw longing glances across the room to one another but don’t get close enough for more than a brush of knuckles. But that slight touch sent a rush of electricity from your hands to your feet. 

There are 5 minutes left till midnight when you excuse yourself from the still lively party, slipping down the hall of the country club that the bride and groom had chosen as their venue. Jack never told you where to meet him so you wander around, looking behind every door for the shaggy-haired boy. 

You had lost yourself within the corridors of the venue, having made a great many lefts and rights that you had lost track of. You keep walking until you finally spot a figure at the end of the hall staring out the window into the inky sky. 

The click of your heels makes Jack spin around. His necktie is loose around his collar, the top two buttons undone. 

“Hey.” You say softly.

“Holy shit.” Jack breathes out.

You stop in front of him, furrowing your eyebrows. “What?” You ask.

“You look fucking amazing.” 

Jack’s hands are on your hips as if being pulled to them by a magnetic force. He dips his head down, connecting your lips. He presses soft kisses to your lips, slowly trailing them down your jaw to your neck. Jack slips his arms from his suit jacket, throwing it to the floor.

His hands are back on hips as his lips are on yours. There’s a certain sense of hunger as you both know you don’t have much time. He walks you back, pressing you firmly between his firm body and the wall. Pinning a knee between your legs, he holds you up as his kiss weakens your knees. 

The pair of you are breathless when you break apart. His hair has fallen over his eyes, his lips a light scarlet colour. You reach up, brushing away his bangs. His lips hook to the left as he flashes a smirk. You pull him back in, feeling his lips smile against yours. 

The both of you are suddenly trying doorknobs, looking for an empty room. You finally slip into an empty dining room, you taking a seat on a table. His hands push up the skirt of your dress, the music from the wedding drowning out any noises the two of you made.

#nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #luvzegras #jack hughes #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine

[libraford]

Have you shared the story of you joining the track team with us? I feel like you have but I can't remember any details.

I SHALL TELL YOU A TALE OF PURE FOLLY!

The year us 1999, I am in seventh grade. Like most seventh-graders, I hate everything that I am forced to do but I especially hate Pep Rallies. They are hell for my tiny little social outcast ADHD brain: loud noises, forced enjoyment of an activity, sports, pointless interaction with people I can't stand, and the potential for relentless bullying afterwards.

So we had a pep rally.

And I, for the first time in my rules-following life, decided to skip.

My class filed into the gym, I ducked into the bathroom, and waited for the sound of the doors closing.

Problem was that I didn't think I'd get this far and I've never been in the habit of delinquency, so I had no idea what to do next. I started wandering the halls just a little bit, testing out the freedom of having broken the rules, going down hallways that weren't part of my routine...

...when I heard dogs barking.

You see...

...the pep rallies weren't exactly about basketball. The pep rallies were an excuse to make lots of noise so no one heard the police dogs when they came looking for drugs in people's lockers.

And I am not where I'm supposed to be. I am where NO ONE is supposed to be. And I panic, because if I show up to the pep rally late they are going to notice.

I did not think this through.

So I start looking for somewhere to be while the police are searching for worse criminals than myself and I see a bunch of students in the cafeteria. One of them is a friend of mine, so I wouldn't be completely out of place in this location, so I came in and sat down next to her. A roster is being passed around and I sign it so that I can say that I was accounted for during the pep rally in some way.

The teacher who is heading whatever this is stands up in front of this group and says:

"Thank you for coming to the track and field tryouts. You've all made it in."

Uh...

...woops.

I think I'll just sit through this one meet and then quit. People do it all the time, I don't think anyone would notice.

Except that this is a small town and everyone knows everyone- so the teacher/coach helpfully informed my father that I'd joined the track team voluntarily and in no way was it a mistake of any kind.

My whole family is sports nuts. My dad was in charge of the sports page at the news paper, my mom will talk excitedly about college football, and my brother has excelled in every sport he's ever been in.

I'm a textbook case of Not That. Art student, lead violist, and the most exercise I get is dodging projectile rocks on my way home from school.

But my dad is SO proud of me when he hears about it. Lee is doing a Sport? A Sport that's physical? A Sport with a team? A SPORT!

Like... he bought me new shoes and stuff to clean the shoes with and all kinds of first aid stuff for my muscle pains and oh my god for the first time in his life I was in a SPORT!

(Just to emphasize- he has always been PROUD of me. He thought I was a genius because I showed him how to make chocolate dipped strawberries at home without a fondue pot like... he's pretty sure I'm going to save the world somehow. But this was the first time that I had ever shown even the smallest bit of interest in doing a Sport, which is HIS special interest and now we can BOND!)

So I try.

You know... I hate running.

I actually have a condition caused by a childhood illness that impacts cartilage development as well as asthma from a bronchial infection when I was in 5th grade.

But my dad came to all of the track meets that he could and I was so deep into the lie that quitting now would break him.

So I try my hand at non-running events: shot put and discus. I'd still have to run during practice, but I was allowed to go off and do Not Running for a little bit.

I can't remember the actual numbers or anything, but I remember that when I first did shot put with proper form, the coach kind of turned her head sideways and said 'damn.'

So turned out that being at the roly-poly stage of my larval development meant that I was still learning how my personal body chemistry affects the build of muscle. The answer is 'very quickly.'

It starts getting hard to find shirts that will fit my biceps and now I'm in trouble for wearing non-standard issue tank tops to school from practicing shot and discus.

If this were a movie, it would mean that suddenly being a jock meant that I had been accepted by my peers and something something Mean Girls something something. But no, because having incredible muscle as a thirteen year old did not do anything to disspell the rumors that I was a lesbian and unfortunately I was still bullied relentlessly. Nor did I ever throw a punch because I don't like hurting people and no one ever taught me how to fight. But it did mean that I had a handful of girls ready to use teeth and nails to defend the shot put champion.

Which is important because I was the ONLY shot put and discus thrower in the school.

And as I found out- the district.

I went almost an entire season without competing against a single person, winning the event by default.

Until the semi-finals.

And I did have to compete against an assortment of other thirteen year olds that were just now learning that they had upper body strength. But because they ALSO were the only ones competing in those events they had never competed against another person either.

So we all sucked.

I got gold in shot put. Bronze in discus. But to their credit there were only three competitors.

Huge fucking deal for my dad.

Not a huge deal for the rest of the track team, who all did really poorly in most events BUT throwing events, which meant that this was our last game of the season.

And so ended my short, accidental career as the middle school shot put champion.

"Did you try out again in 8th grade?"

Fuck no. I hate running.

#accidental track star

[madebycloud]

Stuck By The Glue Onto You

wednesday addams x fem!reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: while out on a hiking date, you decide to test if wednesday can ever get a tan. but your questions about tanning only seem to annoy her. (requested by canvascoloredin) warnings/themes: soft!wednesday, hiking, picnic, r is touch starved ig words: 2.9k

You're wandering through the forest, surrounded by trees, with birds chirping in the distance.

You begin to walk through the woods, the soft dirt squishing under your sneakers. As you wipe the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand, you find yourself wondering what possessed you to do something like this.

“God, it's as hot as Satan's ass in here,” you mutter, your girlfriend following not far behind.

“Why are we even out here?”

You couldn't help but smirk. “We're out here to test something—a theory, even,” you reply, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice, though you can tell she's already figured it out.

“Test what? My patience?” she snaps, her eyes rolling towards the sky.

You sigh and turn around to face her. “You're wearing all black, you know it's so hot outside,” you say, your face dripping with sweat.

She raises an eyebrow at you. ”So? I'm not the one sweating.”

You shrug, your shirt is already soaked through. “It suits you anyway,” you mumble to yourself.

You pause in your tracks, looking around for a spot to rest. Finally spotting a nearby tree, you make your way over to it and flop down against the trunk, your body seeking some much-needed relief from the sweltering summer heat. 

You turn to your girlfriend, who's still standing, and raise an eyebrow at her. “Do you tan?”

“Do I what?” she replies, looking confused.

“Tan,” you repeat, rolling your eyes. “You know, when your skin darkens in the sun, do you think it's possible for you to do that?”

“Do I look like I tan?” she deadpans, and you can practically hear the lowercase ‘duh’ at the end of her sentence. 

“Wow, I have no idea,” you reply sarcastically. “Come,” you say, patting your ankle for her to come sit beside you.

She grudgingly makes her way over to you, plopping down on the ground with a huff. “This is stupid,” she mumbles.

“I want to see if you'll ever tan.” You've always wanted to see Wednesday tan, even just a little bit.

“Do you really think that's going to happen?”

“I don't know,” you admit. “That's why we're out here.”

Will Wednesday ever get tanned? Maybe, maybe not. One thing's for sure though, this heat is unbearable.

A moment later, Wednesday stands up without a word and continues walking down the path, leaving you behind.

“Are you serious?” you call out, catching up to her. “Where the hell are you going?”

Without slowing her pace, she throws back a cheeky response. “Wherever you were planning on leading me out.”

You run to catch up to her, huffing and puffing as you try to keep up. “Slow down,” you say, sounding slightly out of breath.

“Well, do you know where that is?” you ask, catching up to her and walking beside her.

“That's what the path is for, genius” she replies, gesturing to the obvious dirt path beneath her feet. 

All of a sudden, Wednesday stops dead in her tracks, and you almost knock her over while running after her. She glares at you, clearly not pleased with being bumped into.

“Watch it,” she snaps. 

You raise an eyebrow, slightly taken aback by her reaction, but then you notice the river flowing ahead of her. “Oh, I hadn't noticed,” you say, trying not to sound like a total idiot.

Without a word, Wednesday extends her hand to you, palm up. “Shoes,” she orders.

You pause for a moment, trying to process the request. “My what?” you repeat, confused.

“Shoes!” she repeats, more loudly this time.

With a quick movement, you slip your feet out of your shoes and place them into Wednesday's outstretched hand. She then does the same, and as you both step into the river, you can't help but feel the cold water up to your ankles.

“Be careful,” she warns. The water splashes against the rocks as she moves across them.

You reluctantly follow behind her, not appreciating her condescending tone. “What do you think I am, a child?” you mutter under your breath. “Ugh, it's cold.”

Your footing is unsteady as you try to balance on the slippery rocks, and without warning, you slip and stumble, almost falling head-first into the shallow water.

Before you hit the ground, Wednesday grabs your arm and pulls you back. “I said, be careful,” she scolds. Your heart races as you regain your footing, feeling the weight of her gaze on you.

“Sorry,” you whisper, trying to catch your breath. You follow closely behind her, taking each step carefully.

You stumble out of the water and land on the dirt path, feeling the mud between your toes. Wednesday, drop your shoes at your feet. 

“You could've died back there,” she says with a hint of concern in her voice, already putting her shoes on.

You quickly tie up your shoes and chase after her, trying not to slip on the wet rocks by the river's edge. “Wait up!” you shout, but she ignores you and continues walking. Frustrated, you pick up the pace and catch up to her. “Can you please slow down?” you huff, still catching your breath.

“I told you to be careful,” she says, not even looking back at you.

“I know,” you mutter, still panting as you try to keep up.

But she doesn't seem to be slowing down at all.

Suddenly, a clever idea pops into your mind. You stop walking and pretend to slip on the rocks. “Oh no! I'm going to slip into the rocks! Help! I need a hand to help me!” you cry out, pouting like a child.

Wednesday turns around and looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “Do you really need me to hold your hand?” she asks, not sounding very convinced.

“You know, that's one of the things couples do.”

Wednesday scoffs. “Right, and what if I don't want to be that couple? What then?”

“Then you have to hold my hand even more,” you reply, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably.

She extends her hands at you. “I'll count from one to ten, and if you haven't grabbed my hand, I'll throw you off the cliff.” Not wanting to get thrown off a cliff, you run as fast as you can, barely catching up to Wednesday just as she reaches five. You grab her hand, swinging it back and forth.

You lean in to whisper into her ear, “You're sweet, you know that?”

“What did you say?” she asks. Her eyes lock onto yours, and you can't take your eyes away for a minute. You feel her grip on your hand tighten just a little bit. 

You take a deep breath and lean in a little closer, your lips barely brushing against her ear as you whisper the three words. “You heard me.”

“I'm not sweet,” she mutters, looking away from you.

But no matter how hard she tries, she can't erase the small smile that keeps creeping onto her face, and you can't help but smile back at her. “Yes, you are,” you say, still whispering into her ear. “And I'll keep saying it, whether you like it or not.”

She quickly pulls her hand away from you, pretending to have heard nothing. “I hate you,” she replies, looking away and picking up her pace.

“Stop it,” you complain, reaching for her hand again. “You don't have to be so cold.”

You grin at her, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest as you wrap your fingers around hers and start swinging her hand again. Wednesday sighs, but she doesn't pull her hand away from yours. 

“And I'm glad you came with me.”

“Just promise me you won't do anything dumb this time.”

You nod, still grinning at her. “I promise,” you say, reaching up with your free hand to brush a stray strand of hair away from her face. 

She nods. “Good,” she says. “I don't want to lose you.”

“See? I told you, you're sweet.”

“Just shut up.”

“What would happen if you didn't save me?” you ask, still swinging your hands.

She raises an eyebrow at you, looking you up and down, as if she's trying to decide if she should take your question seriously. “Obviously, dead.”

“Okay, but what about you?”

She shrugs. “What about me?”

“What would happen to you after I hit the rock?” you repeat, a little more desperate this time. 

Wednesday narrows her eyes at you, trying to figure out if you're joking or just an idiot. “I'll probably be on the news, saying, Breaking news: Idiot girlfriend hits rock and dies, and now I'm the main suspect because I was the only one there with her.”

You can't help but chuckle at her response. “Your girlfriend?” you repeat.

Wednesday nods. “My girlfriend,” she says, her tone now a bit softer.

Then you trail your thumb over hers and smirk at her. “Her name is...?” you ask, curious to see how she'll respond. 

She rolls her eyes at you. “Y/N,” she says.

“What do you think about her?” you ask, biting your lip to hide the blush rising in your cheeks.

Wednesday trails off, her eyes darting around as if searching for the right words. “She's amazing, adorable, beautiful, and…” she trails off again.

“And?” you prompt.

“And don't tell her that, because her ego will boost even more than it already does,” she continues. 

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, but before you can respond, Wednesday turns and starts walking away. “You and your clumsy curiosity,” she mutters under her breath.

—

“Seriously, here?” Wednesday asks you with a raised eyebrow as you start to prepare the blanket for the picnic while the scorching sun beats down on the grass.

“I told you, I'm here to test something,” you remind her as you drop the blanket.

Wednesday rolls her eyes and walks away, but you follow after her. “Please, just a few minutes,” you plead.

—

You patiently wait for her in the tree, hoping that she'll come back soon. After a few minutes of her sunbathing—or getting fried, as you put it—she finally walks towards you.

You stand up and approach her, looking her up and down. “You didn't get a tan,” you say. “Are you dead?”

“No, but you will be soon,” she retorts.

You cross your arms, tilting your head to the side as you place a hand on your chin. “What about you taking off your clothes?” you suggest, teasing her further. “I guess those black clothes are blocking the sun.”

Wednesday lets out a huff of frustration and punches you in the arm—not too hard, but hard enough for you to know she's serious. “I'm kidding, I'm kidding,” you grumble, rubbing your arm where she hit you.

You grab the blanket and make your way to the tree, spreading it out on the ground. You both enjoy a picnic together, eating sandwiches and chatting about various topics. 

Eventually, Wednesday pulls out a book from her bag and begins to read. You glance at the book's cover, trying to make out the title. It looks like some sort of mystery novel. 

You glance down at her lap, hesitating before finally asking, “Can I?” She nods, not even taking her eyes off the book. You crawl onto her lap, resting your head on her thighs, and watch as Wednesday continues reading. 

You drift off to sleep, listening to the sound of her pages turning and her breathing. 

Once she notices that you are sleeping, Wednesday runs her fingers through your hair, pushing it back. You peek at her through closed eyes, your smirk widening. “Do you tan?” you ask, your voice raspy.

“You asked the same question twice.”

“Okay, maybe I phrased it wrong,” you finally manage, taking a deep breath. “I really just mean, have you ever gotten a tan? You know, from being out in the sun all day?”

She nods slowly, not taking her eyes off her book.

“When?” you follow up, trying to glean more information.

She raises an eyebrow at you, knowing full well what you're trying to get at. “You just made me tan in the sun to 'test something', didn't you?” she says, making air quotes with her fingers.

“Right, right. I forgot,” you mumble, kicking a rock in embarrassment. 

You take a deep breath and let it out, leaning back on her lap. “But-” you begin, catching yourself before you ask another stupid question. “You know, I've seen people get a nice golden glow from some time in the sun.” You try to play it off.

Deciding to change the subject, she pinches your nose. “Hey!” you hiss, swatting her hand away. “That's not nice,” you mutter. Wednesday just shrugs and goes back to reading her book. 

“Do you tan?” Wednesday returns the question to you, her eyes still locked on the page in front of her. 

“No, of course not,” you reply without hesitation. “I'm not the one dressed in black from head to toe in this heat.”

“Well, excuse me for having a fashion sense.”

“I didn't say it wasn't stylish,” you retort. “Seriously though, Wednesday, the sun has been beating down on us for hours, and you haven't even gotten a speck of color,” you continue, shaking your head.

“I'm not sure why you're so obsessed with my pale skin, but it's not going to happen, okay?” She punctuates her sentence with an even bigger eye roll.

You sigh, staring up at the blue summer skies. “Don't take me too seriously. I just think you'd look pretty cute with a little color in your cheeks,” you say, your voice soft.

“Yeah, right,” she mumbles, dismissing your opinion.

“I'm serious,” you insist. “Just imagine it, Wednesday: the sun, the sand, the waves. You, in an adorable bikini, enjoying the heat.”

“I'd never wear a bikini in a million years, but the sun and the sand... maybe.”

You're just about to give up and let her read in peace when you suddenly remember something.

“Wait,” you say, leaning forward a little to catch her attention. “Did you know that some people actually pay money to get a fake tan?”

“Well, not me,” you continue, “but I've seen it before. People go to these tanning salons and pay money to lie in a bed that shoots UV rays at their skin, all in the name of looking more 'healthy' and 'glowing.' Can you believe it?”

“Honestly, I don't see the point in paying money for a fake tan when you can just get one for free by lying in the sun.”

“You have a point there,” you say, grinning at her. “But then again, some people just don't want to put in the effort to tan naturally.”

Wednesday rolls her eyes at you. “To each their own, I guess,” she says, continuing to read her book.

You try not to stare at her for too long, not wanting to cause her any discomfort, but it's hard to look away. 

“You look exhausted,” she comments, her finger continuing to trace patterns on your chin.

After a while, you start to feel drowsy. The heat and the soothing sound of the rustling leaves have taken its toll on you, and you start to drift off to sleep, still resting your head on Wednesday's lap.

As you doze off, you feel Wednesday's hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you. “Hey, wake up,” she says softly, causing you to stir and open your eyes.

You feel embarrassed, not knowing how long you've been out.

“Do you feel rested?”

“Yeah,” you respond, still feeling a bit disoriented. “Thanks for waking me up,” you add, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Wednesday nods, closing her book and setting it aside. “No problem,” she replies. “I just wasn't sure if you were going to sleep on my lap forever.”

“What can I say? Your lap is pretty comfy.”

“You're ridiculous.”

“Maybe, but at least I'm comfortable.”

You sit up, quickly rolling up the blankets and stashing the snacks back into the backpack you brought.

“Do you have any more questions for me?” she asks.

You shake your head. “No, I think I'm good for now.”

“Suit yourself,” she replies with a smirk, then helps you load up the last few things that you packed.

“Don't move!” you say as you quickly grab out your phone. She squints her eyes, looking confused. 

“I want to take a picture of you. Stand right there,” you add, pointing with your finger to the perfect position. 

“For...?” she asks, wondering what kind of strange photo you have in mind.

Shrugging your shoulders, you reply, “Because my girlfriend didn't get tanned after walking in the sun for hours, and this is the proof of that.” You step beside her and take a selfie together, your cheeky grin contrasting with her blank stare.

“Let's go,” she declares before starting to walk away.

“Wait for me,” you call after her, your feet pounding the ground as you try to catch up. “You forgot to hold my hand? I might fall,” you say in a fake-helpless tone, trying your best to look pitiful.  

“Oh, fine,” she replies, stopping in her tracks and turning around to face you. “Are you a child? Because I'm not your mother,” she scoffs.

With a heavy sigh, she reaches out her hand, rolling her eyes as you clasp it in yours, swinging it back and forth as you walk together. 

“You want to hold my hand so badly?” she asks.

“Yes,” you reply with a cheeky grin. “I don't want to get lost or something.”

She shrugs and interlocks her fingers with yours, wondering how she got roped into this. “You're so annoying,” she mutters under her breath.

“What was that?” you ask, pretending not to hear her.

#wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x you #wednesday imagine #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday netflix #jenna ortega x you #wednesday addams x reader #i love beabadoobee

[sytoran]

𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ⌇ natasha romanoff

summary: natasha romanoff is your new secretary, and she's willing to help with your every need.

☰ PAIRING: sub!secretary!natasha x dom!ceo!reader

☰ TAGS: smut (18+), office!au, smut, risky sex, strap-on sex, rough sex, slight degradation kink, attempt at humour, cunnilingus, oral sex, overstimulation, cocksucking, spanking, bending natasha over your desk while she's in high heels and nothing else

☰ WARNING: 2.5k words of pure filth

masterlist

you slumped down into your armchair, letting out a groan so heavy it shook your seat with its weight. frustratedly kicking up your feet onto the desk, you tilted your head back, letting your eyelids flutter shut.

that day had been absolute hell, conference after meeting after documents. being the CEO of stark industries was far from heaven-like, when you actually took responsibility. (yes, that was a jab at tony.)

he was an eccentric man, never staying in one place for too long. deciding to travel the world with pepper, tony left you to his devices after reluctant agreement from your part. but then again, earning more money than you could keep track of was something you would never really complain about.

“dr. y/n? are you alright?” 

ah, yes. there only one thing better than being the CEO of the biggest company in the world. it was having a secretary by the name of natasha romanoff.

blood red heels clicked against marble tiling, stopping right before your desk. you eyes trailing up the low-cut, tight-fitting dress she was wearing. your wandering eyes were hardly discreet, trailing over the curve of her hips and the generous inch of cleavage she had decided to show off. 

natasha flushed slightly under your watchful gaze. she would be a liar if she said she didn’t enjoy being admired by you. 

she knew it was wrong, pining after her boss, much less the CEO of such a big company, but she couldn’t help it. you were just so alluring, an enigma of your own accord. 

looking up at her through half-lidded eyes, you sent her a slow smirk. “hey, nat.” 

fuck, that was hot. natasha’s hands on a binder tightened. you had been so demanding today, yelling that your voice grew raspy, commanding and dominating – if natasha was being honest, she wouldn’t mind being yelled at like that by you.

but then again, you were so good to natasha. a soft spot, some might say. an obsession, you called it. 

so maybe it wasn’t so accidental when natasha bent over to pick a pen up, right before your eyes, rounded ass in full view. or maybe during meetings, when the room was dark and she whispered a little too close into your ear. or even after hours, when she offered to give you massages but let her hands linger far too long.

but the way you looked at her sometimes, with the deliciously darkened eyes and the dangerous smile, it made her think her silly crush wasn’t so unrequited after all.

“good afternoon,” she said, giving you a cordial smile – or at least, she attempted to give you one. you could see the way her teeth dug into her plump lip while eyeing you in a black dress-shirt. it made your pride swell a little. or well, maybe a lot.

“been a tough day,” you murmured absent-mindedly, folding up the sleeves of your black shirt to your arms. natasha’s gaze burned holes into your forearms, then your partially unbuttoned shirt, then to your lopsided grin.

caught.

you chose not to respond to that, shifting in your seat to sift through some papers, leaving natasha to bask in her adorable embarrassment. oh, you were obviously showing off for natasha, but who could blame you? she was too good to be true. 

“is there anything i could do to help?”

natasha’s question had barely left her lips before your expression morphed into the one she had imprinted into every inch of her brain. 

the one where your eyes narrowed and digressed into hues of jet black. the way your lips curved, tongue darting to wetten dry lips. the one where you looked like you wanted to devour her. 

the one that she had spent countless hours dreaming of with two fingers shoved up her pussy, in the dark of the night, where her secrets got locked up with a gold key.

“i can think of some ways,” your murmured, under your breath, just loud enough for natasha to hear. the reaction was almost immediate, the redhead shifting her legs a little bit closer, thighs pressing together. god, she was so wet.

“oh,” she whispered, almost a whimper. you swallowed at that divine sound, throat suddenly running dry.

just as you were about to make your move properly, natasha’s phone began buzzing with the ringtone of a call. then the moment was gone as quick as it came. your secretary fumbled for her phone, almost dropping it once. 

“bruce needs some help with the project of JARVIS.” natasha tells you quickly as she ends the call, her cheeks flushed a rosy red that quite matched her hair. "i- i'll go now."

natasha turns haphazardly, not even waiting for your response before moving her feet to the door. fuck, why was she so aroused? she was probably just imagining it, of the possibility that you wanted her as well.

the redhead moved to grip the door metal, the cold metal feeling foreign in shaky hands.

but then cold fingertips were suddenly tracing along the back of her bare arms, up and down, sending tingles all through her body.

natasha gasped, not daring to turn around. god, those fingers were sinful.

"stay," you murmured quietly, right up against her ear. your secretary tensed up in your arms, knees bumping against the door. she could've buckled, there and then, folded right into your arms.

"unless i am reading this situation wrong, then you can take your leave, ms. romanoff,” you clarified with a husk in your voice, deft fingers leaving her hot skin for a moment. even those mere seconds without your touch left natasha feeling empty. 

two could play at this game.

"i don't know, your perception skills have always been quite good," natasha murmured in response, almost a purr, as she pushed back up against you. you could feel the curve of her rounded ass against your crotch, and it only made you crave her more.

the edges of your lips twisted upwards into a devilish smirk, and your hands dug into her hips so hard it was sure to leave bruises. "let me hear it," you breathed, hands exploring the area of her lower stomach.

"shit," the curse fell from natasha's lips in a hasty breath right before she could answer you, a snarky remark dying on the tip of her tongue. you had slotted your leg between her thighs, pressing right up against the wetness of her sex.

"let me hear you say it," you repeated, the lower decibels of your voice sending a jolt of arousal straight to her core, giving her a shallow thrust to temporarily appease her needs.

"hear me say what, daddy?" 

the moment those sinful words left her lips, natasha wanted to take it all back. god, why had she been so forward? why would she-

before natasha could finish the walk of shame down memory lane, you had let out a near animalistic groan, twisting her around and pushing your oh so beautiful secretary up against the wall.

pinning her wrists up against the wall with a singular hand, a long, steamy moan escaped natasha's mouth. you tilted your head to kiss her with a passion you didn't know you harboured.

the first kiss was ebb and flow, your bodies rocking like the gradual descent of a wave. it was a smoldering heat, not quite out of control, but just enough to make the both of you crave more.

the second kiss was harder, with natasha finally tugging onto the collar of your dress shirt, dragging you impossibly close. you licked and sucked at the sides of her open mouth.

the third kiss had natasha falling apart. you properly pushed her up against the wall, never ceasing to kiss her for all it was worth. your left hand tightened on her wrists and the other gripped her hip so hard it could bruise. 

and the fourth kiss, well, there wasn't a fourth kiss. because you had already lifted natasha off her feet by then, roughly setting down onto your desk.

"wait, wait," natasha breathed, pulling away from your wandering hands with a shaky exhale. "we should lock the door."

"right, right," you huffed, listening to her nonetheless. it was probably a bad idea to bend your secretary over the desk when anyone could walk by at a given time. 

when you turned back from closing the door, your jaw quite literally dropped. there natasha was, bent over your desk with paperwork pushed to the side, supple ass in your direct line of vision.

she turned back to look at you with a teasing smirk, hiking up the end of her scandalously short dress. you caught a flash of black lace.

"i'm waiting," she murmured, shifting her legs open wider. you stepped closer, drawing a gasp from natasha as you ran your hands over her ass.

"...i know, doll. you're dripping."

suddenly slapping the curve of her ass, natasha cried out, driving her hips back to reach you once again. you denied her of that particular pleasure, instead pushing the lingerie to the side and spanking her again.

purplish hues of red blossomed upon her pale skin. you did it again. 

natasha moaned out your name, begging for you to touch her properly. you did it again. 

you had a lot of fun watching the confident woman succumb to a mess of frenetic moans and incoherent whines. so you did it again.

by the time you were satisfied with spanking natasha, there wasn't an inch of skin left unblemished, all flushed and crimson from your ministrations.

"fuck, just touch me already." natasha whined, undulating her lower half against the tent of a strap in your pants. 

"so impatient," you commented teasingly, eyes darkening several hues when you noted the wet spot on her panties. "you're so naughty, wearing lingerie to work. you've wanted this, mhm?" 

the words died on her tongue when you thrust your hips forward, the thick strap entering her sodden pussy.

"please!" pretty mewls fell from natasha's mouth as you fucked into her, gripping at her sides with sprawled hands.

in no time at all, natasha was cumming all over your strap, dripping down her thighs. she had been stimulated by the spanking already, your actions only bringing her more arousal.

"cum already, pretty girl? so greedy," you groaned, fucking her thourgh her orgasm. using your teeth to pull down the zipper of her dress, natasha gasped at the cold air making contact with her heated skin.

you let your hands explore her body, going to grasp at natasha's tits. toying at her nipples seemed to be too much for her, the redhead spasming under you, gasps and whimpers escaping her mouth.

fuck, natasha could already feel another orgasm building up.

she had wanted this for so long, for you to rail her until she couldn't think, in your very office, over the very one you were fucking her into.

you forcefully pushed her back into the glass counter, her pebbled nipples being stimulated to no end. when you gave a particularly hard thrust, a lewd moan sounded from natasha, echoing around the confines of the room.

"hush, baby." you murmured, giving her two fingers to suck on. "don't wanna let everyone hear you, mhm?" your secretary nodded through bleary eyes, warm tongue tracing over your fingers.

just as natasha was about to cum, her phone that was in her pocket started ringing again.

"answer it," you said after two rings. even without facing natasha, you knew she was wearing that adorably sulky expression.

"don't wanna," natasha whined, still trying to chase the fragments of her second orgasm that were fading away. you frowned at her disobedience.

"answer it or i'll take out my cock."

the threat left natasha clenching even harder around you, which in turn only made you push the cock an inch further. "don't you dare stop," natasha gasped, hands reaching out behind to grab you.

deciding you had enough of her back-talk, you simply reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone and answering it for her.

"hey, nat? are you almost there? you told me you would come." bruce's voice crackled over the static of the call.

natasha's mortified expression quickly morphed into one of pleasure when you traced a finger over her glistening folds.

'you will be cumming,' you mouthed to your secretary with a shit-eating grin, as she rolled her eyes at you.

propping her up onto the desk, natasha was fully naked, save for her high heels, long legs hanging off the edge of the table. you had entrapped her in your arms, palms resting on either side of her body, still fully-clothed and standing.

"uh, nat? you there?"

you pressed the speakerphone next to her mouth, before gently stroking her clit. natasha bit back a moan, eyes accusing yet submissive.

"y-yeah," natasha managed to say somewhat steadily. then she fumbled. "i'll be there in a sex- sec! i'll be there in a sec,"

you bit back a chortle, distracting yourself by spreading her legs and moving to suck hickeys onto her thigh. natasha tried to push your head away, but she didn't really deny your touches.

"uhh okay, are you sick? you sound unwell."

natasha wasn't even half-listening at this point, eyes trained onto your mouth that was leaivng kisses higher and higher up her thigh. so close, yet so far.

you gave her a soft lick mid-thigh, and natasha nearly fell apart there and then.

"i'm - oh, fuck!" natasha trailed off into an airy moan when you delved your tongue into her folds, far too impatient.

"sorry, sorry! i'm- i saw a bug- it's very - jesus christ, it's moving very fast. bugs are pieces of shits who have no manners - ah! - you know what, i'll call you back later! bye!"

natasha was the one to break first, desperately pressing the 'end call' button. you smirked.

"oh, so i'm a bug now? can bugs make you scr-"

before you knew it, natasha was pulling you in to taste her further in. your tongue explored her warm cavern, lapping at all the juices she left in your wake.

when you found that one spot, it was then that her overstimulated cunt met its climax, the orgasm taking over a hold of her body in spasms of pleasure.

you shoved two fingers into natasha's open mouth to shut her up as she drooled, mouth dumbly sucking. her screams were muted into a blabbering mess of pleasured sighs.

before your secretary could even properly come down from her kaleidoscopic high, a knock on the door captured your attentions within a matter of seconds.

your eyes locked with natasha's, and fear flashed in hers. but all you did was move to sit at your desk, with an eerie calmness, hand hovering over the automatic sensor to unlock the door.

natasha spluttered as you gestured for her to crawl under your desk with a smirk of sinful delights. 

so when one of your co-workers walked into your office with a file report in hand, they were blissfully unbeknownst to that ever-willing secretary of yours, hidden under the desk, quietly sucking on your cock once again.

taglist: @gayestfeels26 / part 2 / masterlist

if you want to be added to my taglist, feel free leave a comment or an ask. as always, thanks for reading :)

#marvel women #marvel smut #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wlw smut #gxg smut #x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x reader #marvel #top reader #dom reader #bottom natasha romanoff #sub natasha #my works

[billybob598]

How Many People? (Sydney Lohmann x Reader)

I'm backkkkkk. My bad for not writing in like 2 weeks, but whatever. This was requested by an amazing anon. I hope you all enjoy it! My next fic is an Obi one so maybe I'll do that. I'm thinking of doing a part 2 to this in the near future. As always any feedback good or bad is welcomed! Have fun reading!

And shout out to @ares3460 @simp4panos @inlovewithwoso @wosofanstuff and the lovely 🧡 anon for helping me decide what kind of ending I should have

Word Count: 2.3K (Guys?!?!?!)

You watch fondly as Syndey runs around the paddock, taking pictures of everything she sees. While she had been to many races before, she just really loved Belgium for some reason. It could be that the track was nestled in the Ardennes forest or that the race was one of the most historic on the calendar. Whatever it was, Sydney was beyond excited to be there. She looked like a kid in a candy store the way her eyes darted around, taking everything in. You, on the other hand, were not that fazed by everything. Instead, you opt to stare at your girlfriend with heart eyes as you fall harder when you notice how happy she looks. Walking into the Williams garage, Sydney immediately seeks out Lily (our favourite WAG). They had become close friends as they watched you and Alex race around the track. 

The weekend forecast was less than ideal. Everyone is predicting heavy rainfall on both Saturday and Sunday. Even on Friday, the dark clouds sat overhead, putting everyone on edge. Everyone knew the dangers of racing around Spa in the wet. Lando had a massive crash in 2021 and tragically, Dilano Van’t Hoff passed away at Spa, also in the wet. When you heard about Dilano your heart broke. You had raced against each other back in your karting days and become good friends. He was destined to reach Formula 1, both of you had dreamed of driving alongside each other in the pinnacle of motorsport. Now, due to the FIA’s carelessness, your friend who deserved to be where you are today was gone. Racing at Spa in the wet scared you. Not that you would admit it to anyone, although Syndey had kind of figured it out. That’s when you know something is wrong, when a driver who is usually crazy and ready to do anything, fears for their life doing something they love. 

As you’re in your driver's room with your head in Syndey’s lap, her nails running softly through your hair, you can’t help but let your mind wander towards the conditions of the track. Your girlfriend notices the furrow of your eyebrows, indicating you’re in deep thought. 

“So you gonna tell me?” She asks gently.

“Hm?” You hum quietly back. She rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

“You gonna tell me what you’re thinking about?” Sydney says trying to coax an answer out of you.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking about the rain and stuff,” you speak softly as the rain patters against the window. Once the words leave your mouth Syndey knows what you’re thinking about.

“You don’t want to race do you?” She says. 

“No, I mean, I don’t know. Of course I want to race, I love this track and I always want to race, but…” You trail off. Syndey stops her hand midway through your hair and raises her eyebrows in question. “But, it’s just, how many people have to die before they realize that it’s not safe in the wet?” You sigh out as tears threaten to fall out. The midfielder looks at you sympathetically before continuing her previous motion in an attempt to soothe you.

“If it’s really bad then tell them it’s not safe,” she shrugs.

“It’s not that simple, Syd. I can’t just go to the FIA and be like, ‘It’s raining too much, I’m terrified to put my foot on the accelerator, I think we should just cancel the entire weekend.’ I can’t do that.” She nods in understanding, opening her mouth to speak but is cut off when a loud knock brings the two of you out of your little world. 

“Mate, let’s go! Quali is in like 20 minutes and the engineers want to go over some data,” a voice says loudly from the other side of the door. Both of you sigh as you stand up. Slipping your arms into your overalls, Sydney stands up and places her hands on either side of your waist. You freeze your movements and look at her. She places a feather-light kiss on your lips, then on your cheek, then on your forehead. 

“Please, please be safe, liebe,” she mutters against your forehead. Trying your best to give her a reassuring smile you whisper against her neck,

“I will. I promise.”

Lily and Syndey cling to each other as the qualifying session progresses. Both of them praying that all twenty drivers survive the session unscathed. It doesn’t help that almost every other minute somebody new has gone for a joyride through the gravel or grass off the track. What does help is that both you and Alex Albon made it through to Q2. Your first lap in Q2 was solid, with a few moments here or there, but all together a relatively tidy lap. The lap put you P10; on the chopping block but you knew there was time to find so you weren’t necessarily worried. On the downside, the rain had only gotten heavier, opposite to what the radar suggested. Now, instead of only being on intermediates the teams and drivers had to make the switch to full wets. So, when you went back out for your second Q2 lap with four minutes left, it’s safe to say Syndey was scared shitless. 

“Okay so, we have a good gap to the car in front of us so there shouldn’t be any problems with traffic. Gap to P11 is .098, again gap to the elimination zone is .098,” your engineer informs you over the radio.

“Copy. Visibility is very, very poor. So is traction. I’ll go for it, though,” you respond. Mentally you lock in. You tune out all the other distractions and prepare to give it your all for one lap. However, you can’t shake this bad feeling sitting at the bottom of your stomach. As you slam your foot down on the gas pedal, a ton of water smacks against your visor. Leaving you practically blind. At this point, you're just driving on instinct and memory. Smoothly gearing down as you approach Turn 1, you slowly apply pressure to the brake being careful to not lock up and slide through the corner. You straight-line it as quickly as possible and make the run towards your favourite corner, but also the most dangerous one, Eau Rouge. Usually, in dry conditions, you would take this flat-out, with no hesitation. The thrill of nailing it at 300kph was something you could never get enough of. As you turn left slightly to begin your climb up the hill, you feel the back end slip out. Immediately, you try to correct it, quickly switching the steering wheel to the right. This only causes the rear wheels to lose even more traction. The car starts to spin around wildly. Then, it smashes into the barrier with such force that your helmet jerks forward, threatening to rip your head off from your neck. A searing pain makes its way through your neck and your ribs rattle from the impact. It’s only when hit another solid object that you realize that you’re still moving. The second impact is a lot less painful, but you still figure that you hit the barrier at around 180kph. Everything stops shaking for a second. The rain continues to pour all around you. Yellow flashing lights can barely be made out in your peripheral. Your internal organs start to reorganize back to normal when through the sound of rain spattering on the asphalt you hear the roar of an engine getting nearer. Then, everything goes black.

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

The Williams garage is absolute chaos. Everyone is scrambling, trying to see if you’re okay if the ambulances are on their way, or trying to watch the replay of what happened. To Sydney, everything was happening in slow motion. The second Pierre Gasly’s Alpine collided with you, tears rolled down her face. Lily was also crying at the sight of your car broken in two. Out of the corner of her watering eye, Sydney could see your race engineer frantically repeating your name into his headset, trying desperately to get you to acknowledge him. Her head feels like it’s underwater with everyone's muffled voices. Her mind directly goes to the worst possible outcomes. All the negative thoughts swim around her brain for a few minutes until the wailing of the ambulance sirens breaks her out of her trance. Desperately, she looks at the cameras on the pit wall only to see that they have lost connection. After five more agonizing minutes that felt like hours, Sydney was informed by one of the team members that you were being airlifted to the nearest hospital. She was also told that they arranged a car to take her there. Lily refused to leave her side and slipped into the car with her, holding her hand as an act of comfort. Alex’s girlfriend also had the Sky Sports live coverage playing on her phone so they saw the camera zoom in on Alex’s wide eyes as the TV replayed your accident. It was like some sick joke the way your car just snapped in two like a twig. 

Finally, they arrived at the hospital, Sydney running through the rain towards the front desk. 

“I’m-I’m here for Y/N Y/L/N,” she pants out, her eyes watering and her clothes drenched making her quite the sight. The receptionist nods her head as she scrolls through her computer,

“Uh huh, Ms. Y/L/N is currently in surgery. You are welcome to sit in the waiting area,” the young lady says pointing towards a room full of chairs and concerned looking family members. The Bayern player mutters out a thank you before finding a seat. Lily comes in a few seconds later and sits in the chair beside Sydney.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Lily attempts to sooth your girlfriends nerves. She continues to talk about how you’re a fighter and how you’ll be fine, but this all goes in one of Syndey’s ears and out the other. After what felt like an eternity, but really closer to about an hour, a nurse comes into the waiting area saying your name. Instantaneously, Sydney shoots out of her seat and makes her way towards the nurse.

“Is she okay? What are her injuries? Oh God, please tell me she’s okay,” the young midfielder rants out quickly. Unfazed, the nurse replies,

“Relation to the patient?”

“Girlfriend.”

Sighing, the nurse looks down at her clipboard and starts to read,“Ms. Y/L/N suffered many injuries. Major trauma to the head, a collapsed lung, a broken leg, and severe damage to her spinal cord.” The tears threaten to fall once again as your girlfriend gets told the extent of your injuries. 

“Is she…Is she like stable?” Her bottom lip quivers. Again, the nurse sighs,

“She is in critical condition, currently she is hooked up to a heart monitor and an artificial ventilator to help her breathe.”

“Can I go see her?” The nurse nods before motiong to follow her.

“RIght now the doctor is just finishing up, but he will tell you more about Ms. Y/L/N’s condition.” They arrive at a brightly lit room, white covering every inch of the walls. Then, Sydney sees you. Your body laying limply on the hospital bed with what seems like a thousand different tubes and cords attached to you. You seem so small, your usually bright face now covered by an oxygen mask. The smile that can make anyone’s day better no where to be found. 

“Hi, I’m Dr. Khan, I’ll be overseeing Ms. Y/L/N for the next little while. Have you been briefed on her injuries yet?” Syndey tears her eyes away from you to see a tall man in a white lab coat talking to her. She nods in response to his question. “Perfect. Well, right now she is in critical condition. The next forty-eight hours or so will be crucial. If she makes it through the first couple days her chance at surviving and making a full recovery will greatly increase. I’ll give you some privacy now, but a nurse will be in to check on her every hour. If you need anything just give me a shout.” He then turns before briskly walking out of the room, leaving Sydney and your unconscious body alone. She takes a seat in a chair alongside of your bed. Her vision goes blurry as the tears flow freely,

“Y-Y/N, please d-don’t leave m-me,” she chokes out in between sobs, “I need yo-you. I don’t k-know what I’d do without you, please liebling.” 

For the next fifty minutes Sydney stays silent, her mind racing as her eyes rake over your body. The only thing brining her the slightest bit of comfort being the steady beep of your heartbeat on the monitor. Soon enough, a nurse comes in to check on you, inspecting all of the machines you’re hooked onto. Sydney for the most part ignores her, that is until a small curse leaves the womans mouth.

“What? What’s wrong?” She questions the woman. All of a sudden the nurse shouts for the doctor and presses a red button near your bedside. Within seconds Dr. Khan and more nurses come flooding into the room, one or two of them pulling Syndey out of the room. She tries to fight them, desperate to see what’s happening. 

“She’s gone into cardiac arrest!” Someone shouts. Her eyes widen as the words sink in. With one last tug from behind she’s taken completely out of the room. But, she sees one last thing before they slam the door shut in her face. 

The line on the heart monitor going completely flat.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #sydney lohmann x reader #sydney lohmann #gerwnt x reader #woso x f1 reader

[sluttywoozi]

I have been re-reading the supernatural svt and I just need to know more of your thoughts and headcanons for werewolf! Jun

okay so i have his origin story in mind but also some headcanons so i'll do both hehe

warnings: blood mention, food mention, even longer than vampire wonu

jun was going on a late night food run one night and to save time, he decided to use the walking path by his apartment instead of the well lit, safe sidewalks because those go around the forest and the path goes through. he wasn't nervous at all for some reason, even though it was nearly pitch black in the woods and he could hear every single animal moving through the underbrush. he was nearly there, even, when something tackled him from the side, throwing him off the path and tumbling down a rocky hill with him. by the time he stopped falling, he was dizzy and panting and likely concussed, and whatever tackled him was gone.

he had no idea where he was, or how to get back up to the path, so he just wandered until the sun started to rise and then he followed the light to find his way out of the dense trees. his side and back ached, stinging, sharp pains shooting through him with every movement, every step on the uneven ground, but he just attributed that to the fall and continued on his way home.

he didn't think anything was amiss until his roommate lost it at the sight of him, shouting about tracking blood and mud all over the floors and what the hell happened to his back?!

they shoved him to the bathroom and turned on the light, and Jun blanched at the reflection in the mirror. he was absolutely covered in dirt, with leaves sticking out of his hair and moss clinging to his clothes. he turned around and glanced at his back, his eyes growing wide at the large gashes cutting through his skin like claw marks.

he could barely even feel them with the way his whole back throbbed, but they looked ugly, torn, ragged, and above all, dirty. he didn't know what else to do so he hopped in the shower and went about his day, not registering the way sounds were louder and smells were stronger until they got so overwhelming that all he could do was cover his ears and breathe through his mouth.

things only got worse from there, his senses sharpening and his strength increasing with every passing day. he could hear the neighbors two stories up arguing about bills, he could smell dinner cooking in the basement apartment, and he could taste his roommate's confusion and distrust on the air.

the night of the full moon was when it all finally started making sense. well, the morning after really.

Jun doesn't remember what happened that night, just that he woke the next day to someone pounding on his door. he was covered in dirt and blood again, but the blood didn't smell like his or like a human's so he wasn't too worried.

he was a little worried about being able to tell the difference between human and animal blood, but all of his questions were cleared up as soon as he opened the door to find his coworker, Mingyu, large and grinning in the doorway.

"So you're a werewolf too! Why didn't you tell me, bro? We could have been going on runs together this whole time."

oh. a werewolf. huh.

Jun could only lift his shoulders in an exhausted shrug and say, "Nobody told me, my guy."

very puppylike, squirrels turn his head and he'll chase anything that runs

doesn't really have anger issues at all, only wolfs out (outside of the full moon) when he's anxious or scared or feels cornered

love/hate relationship with his heightened senses

loves how food tastes better and his sight is clearer and he can pick out every individual instrument in his favorite songs

hates that he can smell the garbage truck coming, that he can see every speck of dust in his room, that he can hear the couple in 9b arguing then fucking every night

used to be a bit of a homebody but started spending more time outdoors after he was changed

partially because mingyu drags him out on runs, mostly because the fresh air smells nice and the open sky makes him feel free

starts going to a farmers' market down the road from his apartment because he can taste the processing on fruits and veg from the grocery store

it's during one of his weekend visits that he meets you

or rather, smells you

he almost can't describe it, your scent, but as soon as he locked on, it filled his nose and his head and his heart

he practically floated over to your stall, drawn by your fragrance like he was a fish on a line being reeled in

he didn't see you at first, just the flowers covering every inch of the booth, and he thought maybe they were the source of the smell until you popped up from behind the counter

you had supplies in your hands, paper and ribbon and shears, but you jumped and dropped them all at the sight of him, gasping in shock like you'd seen a ghost

"what's wrong??" he asked, concerned, his hands hovering in front of him as he glanced wildly around the market for a threat

"nothing, nothing, i just didn't hear you come up and i didn't expect you to be there," you rushed to placate him, an apologetic expression on your face before you ducked to gather your materials again

he wished he could help instead of standing there and watching you, but there was a table in between you (why is there a table in between you there shouldn't be anything in between you)

"how can i help you?" you bounced up and beamed, laying your things out on the counter neatly, your eyes still on him

he was nearly laid out by the force of your smile, so it's a miracle when he's able to say, "it smelled really good over here, i just followed my nose."

you laughed and told him you were glad the flowers were doing their job, and he didn't have the courage to tell you it wasn't the flowers that brought him here

he bought three bouquets that day, just so he could talk to you longer

one went into his room, one was for his roommate who was only just starting to be nice to him again, and one was for mingyu, who almost cried when he received them, saying he'd never gotten flowers before

he went back to your spot the next week, but you weren't there

so he tried again, only to find the market still devoid of you

jun's not one to give up, he'll try even when he probably shouldn't anymore, so week after week he found himself at the market, buying produce and hoping he would be able to get flowers too, and maybe even your number this time

it takes two excruciating months, but finally, you come back

he smells you before he even gets to the market, your fragrance wafting down the closed off street and calling to him like a siren's song

he waves at the farmers he always buys from but beelines to your stall, finding you swamped with customers and joining the back of the line

you keep up with ease, wrapping bouquets at the speed of light and moving on to the next, until jun is standing in front of you with a shy smile and his hands clasped tightly together

"hi!" you grin like you recognize him, and he thinks maybe you do when you start to pull flowers, the same ones you'd used in the bouquets last time

"hi," he breathes, taking a step closer and taking in a deep breath before saying, "do you think maybe you'd like to perhaps go out with me sometime possibly? you can say no, and i'll never come here again! but if you say yes, then i- i will. all the time."

you're still looking down at your working hands, but he sees the corners of your mouth quirk up in a smile before you glance up and nod, "i would like to go out with you sometime."

he feels like he could melt, so relieved at your answer that it takes him a full minute to realize he hasn't even introduced himself

"oh! i'm jun, by the way," he laughs, holding a hand out

"y/n," you shake his hand firmly, and if you notice how hot it is, you don't let it show

you exchange phone numbers, then flowers and money, and with that, jun is on his way

he texts you as soon as he gets home and you text back almost instantly, sparking a conversation with no beginning or end, only a middle

you text all day, every day for two weeks, and jun wonders if that's a long enough time for him to ask you out again. mingyu thinks it's not, but he also loitered around his crush for a full month until she finally gave him a chance so jun isn't inclined to listen

it's a good thing he doesn't because he does ask you out again and you do say yes

you say yes with lots of exclamation points and jun's smile gets too big for his face and his heart gets too big for his chest

he knows you like flowers so he takes you to the botanical garden on the edge of town

it has a conservatory and fairy lights and tonight, food trucks and pop up bars

you ooh and ahh with every turn, munching on your snacks with wide, wonder filled eyes, turning to him every so often to make sure he's seeing everything you want him to see

he falls in love with you a little bit that night, and a little more every night after

he does wish mingyu had told him about the knotting thing tho, both for your sake and his

part two (surprise knotting)

#✨emily answers✨ #✨emily writes✨ #jun fluff #jun headcanons #jun scenarios #junhui x reader #jun x reader #jun x y/n #jun x you #seventeen headcanons #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #supernatural svt #werewolf!jun

[jean0farc]

STRIPPED

▶︎ TRACK 001.

bad liar | Johan Liebert x Reader

Banner Credit: @bunnysrph

Content Warnings: manipulation, inexperience, codependency, seeing through people, psychological play, implied nsfw, but still sfw.

“Do you think your sin will disappear when you lie?”

He’s circling me; it was like we were in a tango. His hands were formally placed in the back, and his mind probably wanders while I bow my head out of pure shame. He’s stripped me off of my dignity, I’m unable to form coherent sentences upon uttering what my pride told me to say.

His hand reached for the right areas, he’s being incredibly unfair. His eyes wandered. It was almost as if he saw right through me. This damn monster.

I refused to look back. I had to keep searching, search for a place to stare blankly into oblivion. I wouldn’t dare look back at the monster’s eyes as he cornered me like a hungry predator. But no, he wasn’t just any predator, he’s just playing dangerously innocent. I felt like a small, curious nymph before his gaze; he looks calm, but definitely not pure. This man was definitely far from being pure, I believe he’s hiding something from the untrained eye.

But I just know he got one or two things on his mind.

I bit my lip. My thoughts are filled with nothing but inner despair—I had to be careful with what I chose to mutter.

“I’m not lying, you’re just…..you’re just assuming things about me. I know myself far better than you do, Johan.”

“Johan, huh?” he asked, his bedroom eyes cornering me. I wasn’t looking up at him, but I can feel his haunting lips shape a crooked smile while I could only wish to escape. “Those sweet old memories of me going by that name. I’m quite surprised you’d catch up to me by deciding to pick up my call.”

“I answered your call out of respect,” I replied. “It’s not….it’s not like I like you or anything….”

“Oh? But you’re trembling. Are you perhaps curious? They say curiosity killed the cat, and it seems to me as if I dragged the cat in.”

“What?”

“Don’t play innocent, missy. You know your intentions have been quite obvious.”

“I don’t exactly know what you’re talking about, Johan.” I frowned at his remarks.

“I was just testing the waters. And it turned out that my then assumptions were correct. [Name], let’s be clear. You know very well that no one would want to sleep with you tonight, right?”

“Wha- I never said that!” I exclaimed.

“You never said anything, indeed. In fact, you never really say much. You don’t really do much, [Name].”

“So that means, you just called me for nothing?” I retorted.

He’s pausing. He looked elsewhere. This was my time to run away. He seems defeated. This was my chance. I tried to push him away. Not literally. I tried to deny him. I lifted my foot and stared at the exit.

“Staring into space, little one? Perhaps I can help with that.”

“Let go!” I retaliated. He raised his eyebrow at my response thereafter. “Oh, I’m sorry, I….didn’t mean to frighten you or anything. I just….I don’t know. Do I actually spend the night?”

“Sssshhhh…..you’re not leaving. Spend the night.”

He’s pulling me closer, I try to push him away, but he pulled me in. He’s calm, but his grip was far too strong. Next thing I know, he’s battling for access. I shivered, no fucking way. I struggled against his grasp, not because I didn’t like it, but because of my fears.

What if he’d discard me after this?

He pulled away.

“Such a sensitive, fragile little angel.” Johan smiled, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. He smiled. Even his smile was fake. “I’m glad you picked up the phone.”

I frowned at the remark.

“Why the sour face, angel? I just tell it like it is.”

I can’t speak, I can’t retaliate. But he’s got me in a trance, so I gave in. He’s there to show me the ropes, and that’s all I could ever lean on for the rest of my life.

“You’re lying to yourself. Is it a lie you don’t just tell yourself, but to me as well? Too bad. I see through you.”

“I-“

“You’re trembling. Is it because of fear? Or is it simply because you can’t stand one day looking away from me?”

“No.”

“You’re lying once again, so typical of your kind indeed.”

He lowered his voice, he’s being cruel. I tried to object but he pulled me in, and he’s losing his patience. I closed my eyes, not because I didn’t want it to stop.

It felt good, far too good.

The time ticked. I could hear the clock ticking as he slowly, yet skillfully explored every inch of me. Well, not all inches, but just the right amount. It was painfully awkward, but he pulled off our confrontation so well.

Then everything came to a halt.

That intoxicating voice of his spoke once more.

“I guess it’s time for you to reach home. I have one last thing to ask of you before we part ways.”

“What is it, Johan?” I asked.

“Don’t ever make me forget you.”

#johan liebert x you #johan liebert x reader #johan x reader #x reader #yandere x reader #johan liebert #monster anime #yandere johan #dark psychology

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: whenever you can would you be willing to write a piece about dominik and the reader being in the shy honeymoon stage of their relationship 🩷🩷🩷

Word Count: 1040 words

(author's note: my first dominik request !! i hope you enjoy it, my lovelies 🩷 i'm so sorry if you feel it doesn't match your ask, i've been so uninspired lately so i hope this makes up for my absence !!)

Anyone who looked at Dominik and Y/N would think they were a couple. They were inseparable. Being around each other at all times was normal for the pair, along with the subtle glances and their hands that were so often intertwined.

It was an average day for the pair. Y/N had gone over to Dominik’s house, eventually ending up in his bed, asleep in his arms. She couldn’t say she was surprised as it wasn’t the first time it had happened. Although the lines between friendship and romance had been blurred, the two adults still refused to address what was going on between them.

Y/N knew Dominik had training so she felt selfish for wanting to keep him tucked up in bed with her. Under the plush covers of his bed, wrapped in Dominik’s arms was her favourite place to be. He stirred softly, subconsciously pulling her closer to his body.

“Domi, it’s time to wake up. You’ve got training.”

The Hungarian grumbled, tucking his face into the side of her neck, clinging on to the last remains of sleep. He knew he had to wake up, but the bliss he felt in that moment clouded his rational thoughts.

“Five more minutes, it won’t take long for me to get ready.”

“No, you need to get up now. Your version of five minutes is more like fifty.”

He let out a laugh, now fully awake. He pressed a kiss to Y/N’s head and got up out of bed. He pulled on his training clothes and busied himself with getting ready. He ate breakfast, packed his bag and brushed his teeth before jogging back upstairs to say goodbye to Y/N.

“Bye gyönyörű, I’ll see you after training, okay?”

“Goodbye Dom, see you later.”

He waved at her as he exited the room and then turned his attention to putting his training bag into the boot of his car. Getting into the driver's seat, his mind wandered to Y/N. Dominik wanted nothing more than for her to be his girlfriend. She was kind, beautiful, and outgoing. He could list her good traits for as long as time. However, the fear of rejection had sunk its claws into him, and he remained silent about his feelings. 

He pulled into the car park of the training facility and turned off the ignition of his car. He grabbed his bag from the boot and headed to the reception to sign in. Making his way to the changing rooms, he spotted Curtis walking ahead of him.

“Curtis wait for me,” Dominik said, catching the attention of the scouser.

Curtis stopped in his tracks and turned around. He stood still as he waited for Dominik to catch up.

“You alright, Dom?”

Dominik nodded his head and the pair continued the short walk to the changing rooms. Once they arrived they pushed the door open and began to undress to put on their training gear.

“You know, I’ve been planning on asking this girl out. She’s the new social media intern. Have you seen her?”

Dominik’s heart dropped. He knew exactly who Curtis was talking about and the idea of them getting together made him feel sick.

“Are you talking about Y/N? I think she has a boyfriend.” 

“Oh really? Who’s her boyfriend?”

“Me.”

Curtis’ face fell.

“Sorry Dom, I didn’t realise.” Curtis scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with the man in front of him. 

“Don’t worry about it. Not many people know.”

Training went on as usual. Curtis tried to stay out of Dominik’s way while the Hungarian was having an internal crisis. He didn’t even know where the claim that he and Y/N were together came from. He was so blinded by silent rage that his thoughts weren’t coherent. He just said the first thing that came to his head. 

He had to make it come true. He knew that if he let Y/N fall through his fingers he would regret it.

Once the team had been dismissed, Dominik rushed to grab his bags and pulled his car keys out of his pocket. The journey home was short, but in that moment it felt like an eternity.

As soon as he was parked in the driveway, he sprung out of the car and unlocked the front door.

“Y/N? Where are you?” He urged, the adrenaline surge giving him the confidence to finally tell the girl he loved how he felt about her after so many years.

“In here,” she replied from the living room, “Is everything okay?”

Dominik strode down the corridor and stopped in the doorway of the room Y/N sat in and looked straight at her.

“We need to talk, now.”

Her eyes widened and she patted the empty seat next to her, signalling for him to sit down.

“What are we?”

“Dom, what do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Are we a couple? Are we friends?”

Y/N looked down at her hands. She picked at the skin on her fingers and fidgeted. She had been in love with Dominik for nearly as long as he had with her. The idea of them being a couple was something she had only dreamed of and now that Dominik had brought it up, she didn’t know what to say.

“Dominik, I don’t know-”

“I’m in love with you. I have been my whole life. It’s fine if you don’t feel the same way, but I can’t keep this to myself anymore.”

Y/N twisted her body to face the man who sat next to her. With trembling hands, she cupped his face and pressed her lips to his. Dominik was taken by surprise, but that didn’t stop him from kissing back as enthusiastically as he could muster. 

When they broke apart, Dominik smiled down at Y/N. 

“I think that answers my question.”

“I’d hope so,” Y/N responded, pressing a second kiss to his lips.

The silence that hung in the air was no longer filled with uncertainty and unsureness. It was filled with relief and reassurance. The silent agreement between the pair had been a long time coming, and both of them couldn’t be happier.

#dominik szoboszlai #dominik szoboszlai x reader #football #fanfiction #fanfic #hot footballers #request #liverpool football club #lfc #liverpool fc #by ts1m1kas

[jimhopperlova]

- Secrets (18+) pt.2

hello everyone! how was everyone’s thanksgiving? i’m so excited to get rolling with this one. i have a couple of other requests that i’ll get to as soon as i can. please enjoy the sexyness that this one holds. thank you!

Pairing(s): dads best friend!jim hopper, fem!reader

Summary: ever since the chief had kissed you, your mind wouldn’t stop wandering. what happens when he’s over again, and you have to confess your feelings?

Warning(s): large age gap (reader is 19, hop is 40), hop being a perv, masturbation (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), uniform kink, belt kink, unprotected p in v,

"sweetheart, why don't you invite your friends over?" your dad called out to you from the living room as you had begun to rummage through your dresser, trying to find your swimsuit. it was in the middle of august, so it was very hot out. your dad had managed to buy a pool after the fourth of july, so today you were finally able to enjoy some cool water onto your skin.

"because dad, i have no friends!" you called back out to your dad, continuing to go through your dresser. your eyes began to glow at the sight of your swimsuit finally found. it was boring, but at least you had found it. it was a one piece, all black. you had gotten it the last year, and it still fit. thank god you didn't have to beg your dad to take you swimsuit shopping.

thinking it was just you and your dad, you heard commotion downstairs. the door had opened and shut, and your dad was yelling something in the distance. you couldn't quite understand, so you gripped up your swimsuit and made your way downstairs. you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw that jim stood there in the frame of your front door, still clad in his uniform. suddenly, a blush rose to your cheeks. you didn't forget that kiss from last time, did you? you watched as jim looked at you as well, a soft smirk approaching on his face.

"oh, hey, chief. uh.. w-what brings you here?" you stammered out, not really sure of what to say. here you were, still stumbling on your words, even more so now. jim placed his hands against his hips, looking down at you. studying you, almost. it made you want to throw up.

"out in the area, figured i would come on by and check in. what do you got in your hand?" jim had then asked you. you looked up at him and let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head in the process.

"oh, just a swimsuit. dad here bought a pool and today is the hottest day of the year. figured i would, i don't know, go for a swim," you laughed softly, and jim could only nod. "it was nice seeing you again, chief. i'm gonna go get dressed now." you smiled and nodded, looking up at him one more time. he seemed way more relaxed with you now, despite the two of you not talking for the past month.

jim had been over a few times since the fourth, but not as much as before. you were worried the kiss scared him off, and of course you took this as an insult. maybe he really didn't want to talk to you anymore? you made your way upstairs and to your bedroom, the door shut behind you. well, so you thought. you started to get dressed into your swimsuit, you starting to take off pieces of your current outfit. first the shirt, then the bra. you had then managed to wiggle out of the shorts and before you knew it, your most private area was on show. you wanted to get dressed in the fastest way possible.

you were so oblivious and lost in thought that you didn't know familiar eyes were prying on you already. after you had gone upstairs, jim had excused himself to the bathroom (which was right next to your bathroom). your dad was clearly oblivious, but your dad thought it was the best flaw your dad could ever have. jim had also watched you grow, so your dad trusted him more than anyone. big mistake, probably.

jim had watched through the crack in your door, his blue eyes filled with lust the more you had taken off each article of clothing. he got there in time to see you wiggle your shorts off, as well as your bra. thinking you were going to get dressed, you had surprised him with your own actions.

you were deep in thought of jim, and the way he just sauntered into your home. the way he kissed you last time... well it got you curious. did he even want more? or did he just want to lead you on? you didn't know, but now that every time you saw him since then, you felt that familiar ache in your tummy. as well as that ache in your... well, you got more wet every time you saw him. the desire to touch yourself to the thought of him only got more worse when you saw the familiar police blazer drive by your house. but knowing he was in your home, the smell of him... you couldn't help it. your dad was currently busy with jim (or so you thought), so you had plenty of time to spare.

you dipped your hand down to where your nerves were kept, and the slightest touch had you aching for more. the most sensitive part on your skin felt the greatest you had ever felt before, and it was all because of him. the more you thought about him, the more you kept a pace. faster, harder... you continued in your own ecstasy, oblivious to the fact that the person you were thinking about was just mere inches away from you.

jim on the other hand, had to stop thinking about touching himself to your own pleasure. he had to grip himself through his uniform pants just to stop the ache that was going on. what if he just walked in there, maybe... helped you? well, he thought he could erase the urge, however you had moaned his name just then.

"fuck... j-jim.. please..." you had managed to slip through your lips, just loud enough for jim to hear. and alas, he had managed to stop his own curiosity to slowly open your door. thank god your father had kept up on this house so the door wouldn't squeak. but jim's footsteps could be heard, thanks to his heavy boots he wore.

you shot up out of your own desire, looking over at your door. your eyes practically bulged out of your head at the scene that held before you. jim was trying his best not to bug you, but the own tent in his pants made you aware that he was watching.

"jim- uh, fuck. i'm sorry, i didnt-" jim immediately told you to hush before he shut the door behind himself quietly. "jim, i don't understand? what do you-"

"i told you, shush. do i make myself clear?" jim told you, and you immediately shushed up. you swallowed past the lump in your throat, and you nodded. jim slowly made his way over to you, careful not to creak the floorboards under your bedroom too bad. he slowly sat next to you on your bed, your eyes drifting to his cautiously. what did he want? "now... that kiss. what did you think?" he asked you, finally talking about the elephant in the room. you realized you were completely naked under jim's eyes, so you started to pull at the covers. but instead, jim made you stop your actions. "you're beautiful. let me see it." you looked up at him nervously and nodded slowly.

"the kiss, uh... i only wondered what you wanted with me after that. i hadn't seen you much after." you squeaked out. jim nodded and looked in between your own lips and your eyes. he was contemplating on whether kissing you again or not. he really shouldn’t give in to these urges he just so happened to have for the past year. but now, the two of you were alone. and you were naked.

“can i try again?” jim asked you, and all you could do was look up at him. the both of your eyes interlocked, and you were staring at each other. maybe the both of you waiting for the right move. you nodded slowly at his question, and he immediately dived onto your lips. his hands found the sides of your face before his lips met yours with no time to waste. it was sweet, but much more passionate than last time. it was a deep, and lust filled kiss. you kissed him back with no time to spare, your lips moving in sync with his. jim had to admit. this was all he wanted to do since he showed up on your doorstep earlier. and now he finally had the chance to make it right with you.

jim continued to kiss you, but getting deeper and deeper with every passing second. before you knew it, he was now laying on top of you. the two of you not stopping one bit, moving in sync with each other. although, he did catch you off guard. his hand then dipped down to her clit, rubbing softly on the tender flesh. you broke the kiss to let out a small gasp at the sudden feeling, your hands gripping onto the uniform short he wore.

“that feel good?” jim muttered into your ear. you moaned softly and nodded back. he continued his moments, only going softly at first. you moaned softly at the reaction before he met your lips again. kissing harder this time, loving the way you moaned into the kiss. he continued his actions before he then dipped a finger inside of you, a small gasp yet again leaving your lips. you broke the kiss and looked up at him, love drunk off of him.

“please.. jim, i need you..” you sighed out as you looked up at him. jim could only smirk in response, his actions not stopping. he slowly fingered you, only before adding another finger inside you. your walls clenched down around his fingers, making it that much more pleasurable for you. jim had wondered how you would feel with his cock inside of you, as you were already tightening around his fingers alone. you let out a loud gasp, clenching harder against the uniform shirt. you looked up at him with a desperate look, wanting.. no, needing more. “jim.. p-please..” you practically begged out. jim could only chuckle and nod, slowly pulling his fingers out of you. thinking he couldn’t get any more sexy like this, he then dipped his fingers inside his mouth, licking and lapping up your juices. jim then leaned down to kiss you again, you tasting yourself on his tongue. you moaned softly, now getting completely needy. you couldn’t wait anymore, you needed him.

“how do you taste, baby?” jim cooed in your ear after he broke the kiss. he then leaned away from you, starting to unbotton his uniform shirt. you pathetically grabbed at it, shaking your head no.

“no.. keep it on.” you instructed him. well, begged. your cheeks then became a deep red, hoping that your little uniform kink wouldn’t pry him away from you. jim chuckled and smirked down at you before nodding.

“you gotta call me chief, then.” jim responded back at you with a small wink before you giggled softly and nodded. before you knew it, he stood from his bed and started to unbuckle his belt. you watched as he slid the belt off of his waist before unbottoning his pants as well as unzipping his fly. was it wrong that you wanted him to use the belt on you? you looked up at him with a bit lip, before you spoke how you felt.

“can you… um… use the belt on me?” you coughed out, and jim looked down at you in shock. well, aren’t you full of surprises? he chuckled softly with that same smirk he wore so famously, before he nodded. he then grabbed you and forcefully made you lay on your stomach, ass in the air. you felt your own sensetive area aching for more, the way you could feel your own juices rolling down your leg. normally, jim would make you cum already, making sure you were overstimulated when his dick was inside of you. but he really wanted you to cum on his cock.

“you’re really just a slut, aren’t you?” jim asked you before he rubbed his hand against your ass. it was smooth, and it was a nice gesture. until he slapped it, it echoing throughout your room. you gasped and bucked your hips forward. it hurt, but you didn’t mind it. especially if it was from your favorite chief. “answer me when i speak to you.” jim spoke, looking down at you with dark eyes. you nodded and quivered your lip.

“yes, yes i’m a slut. i want.. to be your slut,” you responded, jim only chuckling softly. it seemed like you knew what to say at the right times. thinking he wasn’t going to slap your ass again, he then used the belt this time. the leather snapped against your tender flesh, making you gasp out in pain and pleasure. “please, chief.. i need you…” you begged out once more, hoping he would oblige.

“such in a rush, hmm?” jim clicked his tongue before he smacked your ass again with the belt. it seemed the more he did it, you never got familiar. it was so painful, but it felt good. it turned you on even more, making your pussy throb with need. you moaned softly at the realization, jim only chuckling at this. “beg.” jim demanded and of course, you obliged.

“please, please, please, chief. i want your cock inside me. need you to fill me up.” you begged, and jim then realized it was time he did just that. he sat the belt down on your bed, before he pulled his pants and boxers down. his cock sprang out at full attention, already leaking pre-cum. wow, you really got him going. his hat still hung on his head, a delicious touch to what he was about to do to you. he stroked himself a bit as he looked down at your entrance, loving how wet you were. jim couldn’t help himself. he couldn’t continue to tease you or he would get blue balls quick at this rate. before you knew it, jim was slamming his cock inside of you, pausing for a moment so you could get used to the feeling. he was thick. length wise he was about average, but his cock filled your walls tight, and it felt all so good.

“oh, shit. jim-“ you hummed out. jim didn’t even care that you called him by his name, in fact he loved it. the way you spoke his name was the most angelic he ever had heard. he slowly started to thrust inside of you, going dangerously slow at first. you moaned, loving the way he made you get used to his cock inside of you. he wouldn’t be able to last long if he just plowed right into you.

“f-fuck.. you’re gonna make me fuckin’ explode,” jim hummed out, his eyes shutting softly as his head hung back softly. you were moaning softly, loving the way his cock really did fill you up. before you knew it, jim was starting to thrust faster, now. ans then finally, he was thrusting in and out of you at a dangerous pace. his balls continued to slap against your clit as his cock slammed in and out of your cunt. you moaned loudly, gripping your blankets tightly. you didn’t even care if your dad heard or not. you were high off of jim’s movements, and he was high off of how you moaned.

jim then gripped up the belt, and wrapped it around your neck. it made your back arch, letting jim hit that most perfect spot. jim continued to study how you moaned for him, moaned his name. his eyebrows knotted together in pleasure, as he rested his head against your own, his hand still gripped against the belt and your face just mere inches from his lips. he nibbled softly against your ear, his thrusts continuing to fuck into your deep aching cunt. he breathed into your ear, small grunts escaping his throat. you felt your stomach get tighter at the sound of this, feeling yourself starting to get closer and closer to your climax.

“chief, i’m.. i’m gonna-cum..” you moaned out loudly, as he found his lips against your cheek. he softly kissed your cheek, his thrusts dangerous. he was now slamming in and out of you to where it almost hurt. but it felt so, so good. finally, you shrieked out. “jim-please. don’t fucking-stop. fuck! i’m cumming.” you moaned out and jim could only smile against your cheek.

“cum for me, baby. fuck-i’m right behind you.” jim moaned out as he only continued to fuck into you. finally, you realized at his own words, your orgasm washing over you. and just like jim mentioned, he really was right behind you. he groaned out and you felt his seed entering inside you, it coating your walls thick full of his cum.

the two of you ended up collapsing on your bed. you looked over at jim who seemed pretty exhausted. his chest rose and fall rapidly as he was clearly sweating. after a couple moments of silence, he looked over at you with a soft smile. you looked back at him, smiling back at him as well. he really did think you were perfect, perfect for him. and he really didn’t care what anyone thought.

“i hope that was better than last time-“ jim started to speak before your door had then creaked open. your eyes shot wide at who was standing in your doorframe- your father. he looked like he saw a ghost, staring at both of your naked bodies.

“jim-what? sweetheart, are you..? what..?” your father stammered out, looking across at you with wide eyes. you quickly covered yourself up with the covers. jim’s dick was out, and it was clear the two of you atleast started to get freaky. fuck. what were you even going to say? you started to try and say something, but your dad cut you off. “james. how. fucking. could you..?” your dad spoke to jim, who didn’t know how to react. his hat was now laying on your bed underneath his head. he slowly stood and looked across at your dad, pulling up his pants and started to buckle up his belt.

“listen. i know what it looks like, and-“

“no. you fucked my daughter! you watched her grow up. you’re fucking.. s-sick!” your father exclaimed, before he pushed jim back. jim looked over at your father, and had to do his best to not punch him. jim then looked back at you, your eyes scared. you were shaking with fear, hoping you could atleast still see jim after all of this was done.

“calm down! let me just fucking talk, okay?” jim had told your dad, holding up his hands to try and calm your dad down. you didn’t think that would happen. when your dad was angry, he was livid. and nothing will change his mood until the next day. “your daughter and i.. well, we have feelings for each other. i have since she turned 19. and i know that sounds fucked up, but.. i can’t control the urges. i can’t control my feelings for her.” jim explained to your dad who looked ocer at you now. his eye was twitching with rage.

“huh? what say you? you have feelings for james?!” your dad asked you now. you swallowed past the lump that formed in your throat. you looked at both of them. you then nodded slowly, looking back at just your dad. “fuckin.. unbelievable. since you love him so fucking much, why don’t you move in with him? move into that shitty little trailer that’s always littered with pill bottles and beer bottles?!” your dad then told you, before he walked out of your room. clearly, your dad needed a minute to process. you looked over at jim who could only sigh.

“i’ll.. see you later.” jim exclaimed before he grabbed his hat and walked out of your room, shutting the door behind him. jim just.. left you? left you naked and afraid? all you could hear after jim left yelling, back and forth. your dad continued to yell until you heard the door shut. great. now what?

#chief jim hopper #david harbour #jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #stranger things