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itsjusthockey · 6 months

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Mornings Like These - Jack Hughes

Another Jack, big surprise

Request please and thx

Enjoy

w.c: 1,005 (credit to gif maker)

Jack can’t help but let a smile break across his face when he wakes up to find you wrapped comfortably in his arms, looking peaceful.

For a normal couple, cuddling at night is a given, but not for you two. Instead, it’s a rare occurrence because most times when Jack tries to initiate the intimacy when it’s time for sleep, he’s pushed away because you say that he’s a “fucking furnace” and “has no self-control.” He really doesn’t blame you for the first part because he does run a little hot, but the second part is beyond his control when you’re pressed up against a part of him that gets a little too excited whenever you’re near.

Jack gently brushes a bit of hair out of your face, and he quickly glances over at the alarm clock to see that it’s early. He then turns his focus back on you, who is still breathing heavily and looking serene, and it practically melts his heart. However, it is not enough to let you sleep because he is in desperate need of your attention.

He gently shakes you, and you let out a slight mumble. He stops for a second but then continues his attack. He shakes you a bit harder, and finally, you open your eyes, squinting a bit at him, adjusting to the light. Realizing who you’re with, you let out a hum, pushing yourself deeper into his hold and mumbling something into Jacks's neck that sends tickles up his spine.

“What was that?” Jack whispers, squeezing you further into his arms.

You remove yourself from his neck and peer up sheepishly at him, your eyes holding the weight of a thousand emotions.

“I said, I had a dream you were here. But normally, I wake up and get sad because you’re not.”

Jack's heart snaps at your statement, and he pulls you even closer, crushing you so hard you find it hard to breathe.

“I get those dreams, too; they suck.” Jack finally says, rubbing your back gently.

You chuckle a bit, and he leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss to show you that he’s really here. That you both are actually together after so long apart.

He lingers there for a moment when he feels you pulling away before he can deepen it, and he feels himself chasing after your lips.

“Cool it there, Casanova. I have to go shower.” You say, pulling away from him, wanting to get ready before Luke comes knocking at your door.

“I think you mean we have to go shower,” Jack states, hopeful.

You pause, knowing that his intentions are in no way innocent, and Jack puts on the sweetest smile he can muster.

“Come on, we’d be saving water.” He offers. “And I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

You shake your head, not yet convinced.

“I’m not buying what you’re selling here, Hughes. The second you get handsy is the second you get thrown out, okay?”

A smile breaks across Jack's face, and he nods rapidly. “You have my word, baby.”

He holds out his pinky finger, and you wrap your around it, laughing.

You waste no time moving to the bathroom, and soon enough, you both are stripped down to nothing and standing in the warm shower. Well, you're in the warm shower, and Jack is just there, getting splashed and enjoying the view.

He does keep his word and keeps his hands to himself, not wanting to be thrown out into the cold. He instead just focuses on washing his face and not letting his eyes wander down your figure too much because he doesn’t want something unfortunate to happen.

Jack is practically gleaming when he gets through the fifteen-minute shower with no issues, and he even manages to steal a couple of kisses. As you both finish up and climb out, you both task yourselves with getting ready for the upcoming day. You grab your clothes and pull them on, doing your skincare and whatever else you want while Jack drys his hair messily with a towel and reaches for his deodorant and cologne that’s next to you.

You both are content with the domestic scene as you throw smirks at one another while brushing your teeth when you're interrupted by a harsh knock on Jack's door.

Jack rolls his eyes, grabbing his phone. “Wow, he made it until 8:36.” He says sarcastically, toothbrush hanging from his mouth.

You jab him in the ribs. “Don’t be mean.”

Jack rolls his eyes and shakes his head, going to grab a shirt from his dresser.

“Are you two decent?” Luke sounds from outside the room, jiggling the door handle.

“If we’re not, will you leave us alone?” Jack says, finally unlocking the door and opening it.

Luke saunters into the room, hitting Jack's shoulder purposely and waving to you as you finish putting in your earrings. He makes his way to the bed, finding a comfortable spot. He seems content until he notices the wet hair of you two, rolling his eyes and giving you both a disgusted look.

A few minutes later, you’re all downstairs, grabbing keys and heading to your favorite breakfast spot in the area. You don’t make it far, however, when Jacks phone rings. He’s quick to answer it, and within seconds, a hard look crosses his face, and you know that something is wrong, and his statement confirms your theory.

“Thanks for letting me know. I’m gonna kill him.”

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yeollie-plz · 4 months

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Turtle Dove

Day 2 of Pedromas! | Masterlist

dbf! Joel Miller x Innocent! F! Reader

Synopsis: Being raised in the outbreak there wasn't much room for sexual exploration, until Joel came around.

Genre: smut

Warnings: 18+ smut, loss of virginity, p in v sex, age gap (reader is mid twenties, Joel is 50 something), kissing, oral f! and m! receiving, daddy kink, reader is innocent but also not so innocent, fingering, unprotected sex

Gif credits to owners!

You were young when the outbreak happened, so you missed out on a lot of milestones. No awkward middle school phase. No prom. No normal teenager relationships.

Sure, there were always boys your age, but they never wanted more than just sex. You knew it was a bit cliché but you wanted your first time to be special. No reason an outbreak should stop your romantic fantasies.

Now you were in your mid twenties and you had yet to even kiss someone. Its not like you were really trying, but it was still a little disappointing. Not to mention your dad was a bit overprotective. You wanted that knight in shining armor to just come in and sweep you off your feet.

Well, that knight did show up. But instead of being in shining armor, he was your dad's best friend, Joel. He was much older than you but that didn't stop you fantasizing about him. Its not like it was ever going to ever happen anyways.

That was until you were pushed into a bathroom by Joel at a party one night. His lips were pushed onto yours. He was like a starving man when he kissed you. It was like he had been waiting for this for a while.

"Can't take the way you look at me anymore. Need to teach you a lesson." He mutters into your mouth, massaging your breast in his hands.

You whimper out his name, as he trails his hands down to your thighs. He hikes your dress up.

"Let me take care of you baby, just need you to be quiet for me. Can you do that?" You nod enthusiastically.

Then he gets down on his knees and eats you out until you are writhing mess under his firm grasp.

That was a week ago and you haven't stopped thinking about it since. And Joel hasn't stopped eye fucking since. One week ago and you hadn't even had your first kiss. Now you were sneaking around stealing glances and kisses with your dad's best friend. He trusted him and now he was all but fucking his little girl.

One night your dad comes to you, telling you that he is leaving for a few days. Without a second thought, he decides to have Joel watch over you in the time being, not suspecting anything to be going. But you smile knowingly. Excited at the prospect of spending alone time with Joel.

The night your dad leaves, you put on your best lingerie, which isn't the best since you are in an apocalypse after all! But it will do, really your main draw will be letting Joel fully have you. Isn't it all guy's fantasy to take a girl's virginity? Well, you're hoping its Joel's fantasy at least.

You find Joel in the living room, reading some book. You silently walk over and grab the book from his hand, closing it you place it onto the table next to you. He cocks his head at you, eyes taking in your half naked form.

"Baby, what are you doing?" He asks in amusement, knowing damn well what you are doing.

"Joel, we are alone. I thought that maybe daddy could help me with something." You had found out one day when the two of you had snuck away into a closet, that Joel enjoyed being called daddy. So, you were now using it to your advantage.

His eyes darken, "What do you need daddy to help with, baby girl?"

"I feel funny down here," you let your fingers tease you swollen clit, "I need daddy to make it feel better."

He grabs your wrist, pulling it away from your panties. He stands, now towering over you, he takes your hand and places it on his crotch so you can feel him already hardening.

"Do you think you can help daddy too?" Letting go of your wrist he now reaches behind your neck. His fingers run up the back of your head, brushing through your hair, before he pushes you down onto your knees.

"I want to help daddy." You confirm after you are sure you are balanced on your knees.

"Good girl, why don't you help daddy out of his pants then?" Fingers start at the buckle of his belt, undoing it quickly and pulling it from his belt loops. Then you start with the button, slowly pulling it and the zipper apart. That's when Joel grabs your head again. He uses his other hand to grab his cock out from his underwear.

"Put it in your mouth before I do it for you." He tugs your head forward, urging you to take his dick. You oblige, running your tongue down the underside of his member before wrapping your lips around it. The hand that is in your hair guides your head into a steady pace. Not too far to choke you but enough that he feels good.

This continues for a few minutes, before he can't take it anymore. Either the pace needed to change or he needed to be inside of you. But he wasn't sure you were ready for that. So he slowly pulled you off of him. You look up at him in confusion. Doe eyes making him almost finish right then and there.

"What exactly do you want daddy to do for you?"

"I want all of you, daddy." Shit, apparently you were ready for that.

"Stand up." He orders, you do. "I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you want."

Your eyes lock onto his, "I want you inside of me. I want daddy to take care of me." A flicker of mischief flashes behind your eyes, Joel catches it.

He grabs your waist and throws you over his shoulder. Joel carries you down the hall and into your room. Throwing you onto the bed he hovers over you, smirking at you before going down between your legs.

A finger makes contact lightly with the rapidly soaking material of your underwear. He teases you lightly before slipping his finger into the waistband, pulling them down your legs. Now feeling your full wetness, he lets a finger slip pass your entrance. He pumps in and out of you slowly, causing you to wriggle under his grasp.

He lowers his head down and gives a light lick to your clit before pulling back to gauge your reaction. Eyes closed, back arched, your face is already contorting in extreme pleasure.

Deciding that he can't wait any longer, Joel pulls his finger out of you, gaining a whimper from you. He sits up and pulls his shirt up over his head.

"Baby, I need you to look at me." You do. "I'm gonna put my dick inside you now so I need you to look at me." A nod.

Slowly he presses the tip of his dick to your entrance, easing it in just a bit. He feels you clench in anticipation, pushing him out. Your hand reaches up to grab his hip in shock. He takes your hand in his.

"Relax, baby, let it happen. Let daddy take care of you." At his words, you breathe out trying to relax yourself. It works and he pushes fully inside of you.

Your hand grips his, hard. He waits to let you adjust to the stretch. Your hand starts to loosen, he takes this as a sign to pull slowly out of you. You whine at the movement.

"Are you, okay?" He questions after your sound.

You nod, "Yeah, it was just a bit painful at first."

"Do you want me to stop?" The hand in yours squeezes slightly to keep your attention on his. The other one strokes your hip, the callouses on his fingers send a shiver through your spine.

You shake your head, "No, please, I want this."

He nods, "The pain will fade in a minute." A peck to your lips.

His pace is slow as he thrusts back into you, head tossing back at the feeling of your walls wrapping around him. As he pulls out again, he lets out a groan.

"Fuck, so tight around me." He thrusts fully into you while he speaks. You moan as he bottoms out.

He keeps the rhythm slow and steady, letting you get used to and start to enjoy the new feeling. On instinct your hips buck you to meet his. Then all of a sudden he stops. He drops your hand and grabs your hips tight, keeping you still.

“Hold still or I won’t be able to hold back.” He says through gritted teeth, while concentrating on holding back his orgasm.

His breathing slows again before he speaks, “Sorry baby, but I’m not as young as I used to be.” His fingers tap your hips as he starts to move again. His thrusts continue to be slow, but now they seem a bit more careful.

"Daddy, please, I want to see you cum because of me." You admit, trying to show that you didn't mind if he couldn't hold it off for much longer. He grunts at your words.

"Fuck, you can't say those things to me. You're too good to me, baby doll." His pace now quickens with the memory of your words swimming around in his head.

He gets sloppier as he gets quicker, now seeming to be chasing that peak. Joel reaches down between your thighs and rubs your clit.

"Want you to cum with me, baby. Do you think you can do that for daddy?" You nod in response.

He works your clit in circles, quickly getting you to your own peak. Just as your orgasm is about to wash over you, his hips stutter a bit. He recovers quickly and works your clit faster. You clench onto his cock.

A few more thrusts before you are to your edge again, your walls clench onto him again. One more circle on your clit and you are thrown over the edge, spasming around his member. You writhe with the intense feeling of your orgasm.

The intensity of your orgasm seems to also throw him over the edge as he quickly pulls out of you. Working his cock in a fast motion, before cumming all over your stomach and tits. He groans while working himself through his high.

Joel slumps onto the bed next to you, wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you into him. His warmth radiates around you, letting sleep overcome you quickly. Just as your breaths even out, Joel places a kiss onto the crown of your head.

"Goodnight, my little dove."

<- Previous Day | Next Day ->

Taglist:

@britlord @kittenlittle24 @godlypresley

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cheriladycl01 · 5 months

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I can’t do this anymore - George Russell x Wolff! Reader Part 1

Plot: You are the daughter of Toto Wolff team principle of Mercedes-AMG Petronius, you’ve worked your whole life to become an Engineer. However, your dad has other ideas for you and doesn’t want you to become a race engineer. You start to confide more in the Red Bull racing Team Principle to help you get an engineering job, and see him as a present father figure.

Credit to russellius for the GIF

“Hey dad! Guess what!” You exclaim to you dad as you walk in to the Mercedes F1 HQ in Brackley.

“What sweetheart I’m a little busy right now” he says pointing out Lewis and George who are with him.

“Well I just got my university grade back! I got a First Class degree!” You exclaim, showing the grade on your phone to him.

“That’s really good darling but it’s not like you’ll need it for anything in life. Surely I provide for you enough” he smiles not fully listening. Lewis sends me a sympathetic nod. Lewis had been your idol in the F1 world, when you first met him you were 11 and he was 27. He basically helped raise you. You were on the road with your dad for most of you life, in between the mechanics tutoring you in maths and science and your mum helping you with English.

You managed to pass all exams at lower levels despite all the constant travelling and proceeded to ask your dad to attend university. Lewis was like your older brother, you were the first person he would always hug when he won a race. He’d take you out for dinner and make sure you ate well and he would buy you little gifts. You’d both constantly joke about how you’d become his engineer one day but little did you know that he wanted that as a reality so badly. You were and always would be his number one girl.

“But dad” you asked and he turned to look at you, and brushed you off once again. You walked out back to your apartment a little sad with your father.

This continued for the next few months, whenever you spoke to him about getting a job as a Data Analyst or a Car Designer or god forbid an engineer he quickly steered the conversation away and it was starting to frustrate you.

“I can’t do this anymore” you said to yourself sadly.

So when it came to the last race of the season, you made your way over to the RedBull garage. Looking around.

“Y/N Wolff, you can’t be in here” a voice smirks, you head turns to see the Mexican driver for RedBull, Checo.

“Erm, hi. I’ve actually come to see Christian” you admit, looking down shyly. This is when more people join the conversation, Kelly and Max have joined both looking intrigued as to why I’m in the garage of the enemy.

They observed you, you were still in your Mercedes stop which was white and made you stand out in the see of dark blue and red of the Red Bull colours. Max couldn’t put his finger on why the hell Toto Wolff their biggest competitor had sent his daughter to their garage. Or maybe they hadn’t sent her, was she here of her own accord?

“Not here to steal our data are you?” He asks, looking at you with a smirk.

You rock back and forth on your heels, a little uncomfortable with the situation you had put yourself into. Why didn’t you just message him, or not walk in in your Mercedes gear…

“No i actually have to see Christian” you say, and after cocking his head Max nods and directs you to where Christian is.

“Ahh Mini Wolff, what can I do for you?” Christian asks as you enter his office, Max left after shutting the door for the both of you, you’d kind of hoped he would stick around as a sort of buffer. But you knew Max was a busy man with a race to prepare for.

“I got my engineering degree in September, I want to work for you” you say bluntly. You take a seat at the other chair opposite him, grabbing the hair tie around your wrist slinging your hair back, trying to show how serious your facial expression was and that you weren’t here on a mere joke from your father.

“Excuse me?” He asks with a confused smile on his face.

“I want to work for RedBull, I know this is odd because your are Christian Horner Team Principle of Red Bull Racing and your probably sat there thinking why the hell is this Mercedes golden girl, here asking ME for a job of all thing. Well it’s actually a really funny story that starts like way way back in the day-“ you started by Christian coughs a little before interrupting.

“You’re rambling, just get to the point”

“I literally did, I said I want to work for you, and you said excuse me I thought that was you asking for a further explanation” you admit a shocked look coming onto your face, your eyebrow raised and head cocked to one side.

“Why don’t you go to your dad for a job? I’m almost positive he’d love to have you work on his team with him. You know pass the principle legacy onto you…” He asked.

“Well I tried but-“

“Are you telling me little Missy that you came to me as second choice” he exclaims and again your cheeks flush and eyes widen impossibly further.

“N-no it’s just that I have this degree and he won’t let me use it for anything and I want to be useful at something in life Yano? I love engineering and I’d love to help the current Constructors Champions out” you explain.

“Well you Little Wolff are in luck, Max’s race engineer leaves on Paternity leave soon, so we need a fill in. Then you can help with the car for next year? How’s that?”

“Are you serious?”

“Well how about we test the waters with your communication on Thursday with Max, then do a test drive on Friday with you. If it’s exceptionally shit, well we will figure something out. But I have faith in you!” He smiles, and stands up coming around the large white desk to meet you face to face, his Han chording out as to shake.

You take his hand, keeping eye contact with him, excited that you will finally be able to work.

“Oh also you’ll be needed in our uniform by Thursday I’ll put an express order out and have it sent to the hotel in Mexico for next week how’s that?” He queries tapping away on his phone rattling of stuff to his private assistant that they would need to cater for you on the next race weekend.

“Hmm, it’s Sunday today so, we’ll announce on Friday that you’ll be working with us for the remainder of the season. Hopefully that will stir up enough to get people riled up before the race” Christian gloats, his mind probably swimming with all the drama and news articles that would be floating around the paddock in a weeks time.

“I’m sure it will, especially my dad” you grunt.

“Thank you for the opportunity. I promise I won’t mess it up” you say and he nods you out of the exit, Max, Kelly and Sergio are all there waiting trying to look as if they hadn’t been snooping in on your conversation.

You gave a nod of understanding to them before exiting the garage trying to subtly make your way back to Mercedes without being noticed by anyone. However your luck wasn’t very good as none other than George, Charles, Alex and Lando rounded the corner.

“Y\N what are you doing coming out of the Red Bull garage” George questions, a confused look on his puppy dog face.

“Erm, I’m in a rush” you say before slipping past them, he goes to follow you but Lando stops him, nodding over to Max, Dani and Sergio that are all looking in their direction with smirks on their faces.

“What happened there then?” Charles asked confused.

“Why the hell was she in that garage, and alone?” George questions more to himself.

“Maybe she has a thing with one of the engineers?” Alex shrugged, easiest explanation to him.

“Surely not” George says a roughness to his voice after hearing that , that the others had failed to notice.

“Let’s go ask Max” Lando advises, starting to walk over.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x you #formula one #formula one fanfiction #lewis hamilton #toto wolff #george russel imagine #george russell #george russell x you #george russell x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fic

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undercoverpena · 7 months

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comfort came against my will

gif credit to @perotovar

joel miller x f!reader summary: it’ll begin with a little beg, a whispered plea—fingers wrapping around his chin, mouth ghosting over his: Let me ride you, Miller.

word count: 1.8k warnings: smut, p in v, jo's spelling and poetic nature. dedication: happy birthday to my friend, @swiftispunk - i know you love Joel, and i hope you love this. special thanks to @perotovar for letting me use their beautiful GIF that inspired half of my imagery, if not all of it.

There’s something about heavy rainfall.

The way it’s cleansing, renewing—almost reinvigorating, depending on when the last time it fell.

Joel found that the only downside is the scent it leaves behind.

Once, a long time ago, it used to leave behind a smell that others wished to bottle—a wish to burn it in candles or hang cheap versions from their car’s centre mirror in haphazardly cut-out trees.

Now, it has an aroma that reminds him of death. A stench which has dug itself into the hairs in his nose, unwilling to let go—clinging, desperate not to be forgotten.

But, you like the rain.

He'll always find you near the window when it pours, eyes tracing the droplets. Your chair purposefully, and with all intentions, pointing to the muck-covered window. Nothing more perfect, you’d murmur—fingers wrapped around one of the crystal glasses the two of you discovered on a run, pressing it to your cheek, off-coloured liquid sloshing as you sigh.

He’s pretty sure he could name a few other things more perfect than rain, but he does find it hard to argue that it isn't the most perfect soundtrack when your thighs are on either side of him.

Especially when the weather is like this. Where a flash of lightning can illuminate you, casting you in a brief spotlight that kisses over your curves and the evidence of your survival.

Tonight, it begins with you draining your glass, turning your head, eyes shimmering as you move from your place, coming to join him on the bed.

Your fingers, both a little rough and soft, wrap around his chin, before a little beg, a whispered plea fills the air—mouth ghosting over his: Let me ride you, Miller.

He couldn’t argue, would never protest. But, your mouth stealing any words he wishes to say. Because he likes having you under him—pinned, close, unable to look anywhere but directly at him. For when you stare, you make everything else pale in comparison. Made the world around mute, it all fading to nought.

You do so with ease, with a single look. One he imagines has always been there, all very much you, even if the state of things has tried to steal it away. He can easily imagine a younger you modelling it, one without the stress lines of living, it all softer, gentler.

Joel doesn’t mind that isn't the case now. He doesn't care for gentle or soft. He likes how sharp you are, that you can cut, wound and make him bleed. He enjoys that, even if he doesn’t deserve anything from you, you stand side-by-side with him, choosing him—wanting and needing, all raised brow with a smirk to match.

If you listen, the rain is telling us something.

You're close to his ear as you mumble it, lips ghosting down his cheek before a clap of thunder steals the phantoms of your whispered echo.

His hands fan over your hips, pushing up one of his tees that you're wearing, sliding it up with his thumbs—feeling how your skin moves, shifts, lengthening over your muscles and bones. His mind busy, occupied, only thinking about how beautiful you are, even when drenched in darkness.

How you’re all untouched except the few scars, the nips and scratches left by those who wished to end you, but found that you weren’t so easy to dispose of.

Joel knows that you’re vicious, all sharp teeth and a menace with a knife many shouldn’t ever want to meet in a dark alley, not that the world has cottoned on. Each try, each fail. He often watches, in awe, pleased, because you're like him. So smooth in the way you're prepared to split someone open, coat your boots in their ichor as the rest of them spill out. Leaving him, often, battling his feelings at the sight.

But while he knows that side of you, Joel also knows the other you.

The one who still believes the rain is romantic. A soul who wishes for a pretty print on a dress, even if you'll only wear it in the four walls of the place you two share. Modelling it for him, dipping your toe into a fantasy with him. You also like the little things, such as a pair of matching glasses, enjoying that they belong together, a metaphor for something you clearly desperately crave.

If he were an honest man, one not ripped to shreds and put together all wrong, he’d tell you you’re a more perfect sight than rain. Not just when you’re sitting on top of him or when you’re under him; not just when you’re panting, venom in your eyes and splattered with cherry-red. But, when you’re just beside him.

Breathing, existing, sleeping.

He’d tell you that you’re an image perfectly cut out of an old version of his happy ever after, slapped down and glued beside him now, even when he’s all tragedy and tragic. That your darkness dances with his faultlessly—making him less alone.

That for you, he’d want to be better, which included letting you go—even if you’re pulling him close—because a man such as him, with hands stained and scarred with horrors, shouldn’t get to touch smeared perfection. That you’re not really poisoned or rotten, just living, fighting—claws digging into the soil, all desperate for another moment.

It’s why he lets you have your fun, and then he flips you under him, palm to your cheek, stare burning into yours.

What’s it tryin’ to tell us? The rain.

You fit him inside of you perfectly—just like you’ve fitted yourself in his space. You’re all knotted around him, heat warm—inviting. Your thighs pressing close, legs crossing behind him, aiding, helping.

Not because you don’t think he’d get you there, but because you’re conscientious, caring—it appears in smaller gestures others wouldn’t notice, but he sees them. Bottles them. Keep them close when you’re not beside him.

Not that he shows it.

Unsure once again, for the billionth time since you stood beside him (and never left), what you see in him—what you think he can give you. Because he’s old, worn, somewhat broken beyond repair—not that it stops you from trying.

“More, Joel. Please.”

You don’t call him pet names, but he hears them in the silence.

They quiver and talk in hushed voices in the kitchen that is covered in grime and not fit for a beauty such as yourself. Some even sprout on his tongue, a fresh seedling, all untouched and unruined—not yet weeded from his throat.

He finds it harder to not let them fall when you sound as pretty as you do. When your nails press half-moons into his skin, leaving a tale of your own in his forearms and biceps, meeting him with everything you have as your walls tighten, delightfully, a match made in hell—because heaven would never allow him. Or you now, he supposes.

It’s why his thumb slides between the two of you, licked with his spit, mixing with the slick against your swollen clit. You gasp, spraying sweetness around the air that's heavy-layered with sex.

He’s forever starving, never quenched—a need for you that runs deeper than mere living and existing. Not ever able to purge you from his system, never wanting to either. Because you’re entangled with him, rooted, anchored inside of him so you can bob along and never go under.

Not that he’d let you.

Joel would never.

His hips punctuate that sentiment. Wanting you to know it, driving them in, so the words don’t go in one ear and out the other. He aims to stamp them in you, fuck them so deep into you you’ll never forget. The sound of skin on skin, groan and grunt, all filling the space, evidence of his determination, swirling around your returning breath, still moaning, murmuring—all scratchy and rough.

“—Let go, Joel. Fill me.”

It rips from him, your name.

Each letter is important, each sound giving the attention it deserves as it coats the air—mouth finding the space between your ear and neck, kissing, teeth nipping.

“Stuff me full.”

The rain hammers heavier, beating its fists against the glass as though it’ll only calm when he does as you’ve asked. As though you and nature are tied together, bonded—the real pairing made in paradise.

It’s then your lips find his, sloppy, messy, all uncoordinated. He can taste the bitterness of your drink on your tongue and the pleasure he’d given you. His mouth lapping it up, licking into yours, tongue far past your teeth as he grips you a little tighter, ruts into you a little deeper—as if hoping there’s more of you to explore, more vastness he can leave a mark on.

It's muffled, but you cut the air with his name as if your tongue is a blade. Your body tightens, mouth ripped from his as you bare your throat, chin lifted, eyes closed as it washes over you and your walls become a vice, hugging his cock in a way no one else ever has.

He's close.

So close.

Another flash, it all bright, exposing the sweat collected on your skin, the path it has made between your breastbone, the way your body looks under him.

Then it’s electric, ripping through him as he stains, writing you’re his all in thick ropes of white—his hips stuttering, slowing, riding it out what it is you do to him. It’s a feeling akin to being folded inside out and then put back again—making his muscles tense and relax, his bones forget they ache, as his throat burns with the force of his exclamation.

It’s minutes, little seconds clumping up until an expanse of time collects, and he’s ready to leave the space between your thighs.

Your eyes on him, all unwavering, mapping his features as though you’re an artist, ready to make him into a sculpture.

He doesn’t tell you to stop, he's learnt his lesson from doing as such—eyes ablaze, full of molten, words sharp as ice, all a twisted juxtaposition as you lay into him all the ways you were, are and am enamoured by him.

He’s sure his list is longer, but he swallowed that, too.

Joel had just nodded, left you angry for half an evening until his arms wrapped around you, and he felt you melt, less lava and more a candle-lit flame licking at him until he took you to bed.

Even if a scrap of time has passed since then, Joel is still no closer to finding himself comfortable with the look—the one he suspects comes with words. Ones you don’t thankfully spill, but ones he would mean just as much if he really asked himself.

It isn’t until you tap him, that he moves. You’re more nimble, quicker on your feet to fetch a rag to clean yourself and then him. Each touch delicate, your stare concentrated before the cloth is cast to some corner—a thing you’ll move and clean tomorrow.

And then, you’re beside him, finding the place you usually choose—all intentional, willingly given—as his arm finds itself around you. A flash of lightning displaying the two of your shadows pressed together, merged in ways the two of your souls are.

Swallowing, he finds your stare is back on the window, the world outside painting its own version of a masterpiece.

“Y’never said what the rain’s telling us.”

You smile, before you lift up your chin, looking at him through your brows. “Just stories. The rain likes to tell stories.”

an: ily, han.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #tlou fanfic #hbo the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfic #joel miller smut #pedrostories

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jobean12-blog · 1 year

Text

Face it, this is Love!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1,595

Summary: You have some shopping to do and Bucky is more than happy to tag along.

Author’s Note: So thank you to my lovely menace of a flower @flordeamatista just randomly sharing goodies with us and when she shared this tik tok HERE I was like OMG I must write it, so here we are! Hope you enjoy and thank you my sweet Ali for always being inspiring and wonderful, love you! 💕Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you sweets 🥰

Warnings: silly, fluffy and sweet fun!

GIF NOT MINE: Credit goes to @captain-james thank you lovely🥰

You grab your sneakers and sit on the edge of the couch, dropping them in front of you then crawling between Bucky’s spread legs and draping yourself over him.

“Hi Buck,” you say quietly and gently pull down the top of his book.

“Hi baby doll,” he croons, dropping the book to his chest and wrapping you in his arms.

“I’m going to the store,” you inform him with a quick kiss.

He pouts. “I thought you came over here to see me doll.”

“Well, of course I did,” you start, tracing his jaw with your fingertips, “but I have to go pick up a few things.”

“Can I come?” he asks, holding you tightly against his chest so you can’t escape.

“To Ulta?” you respond, lifting a brow.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“A beauty store…like make up and all that,” you explain.

“Oh,” he says. “Yeah! I’ll just follow you around.”

“Are you sure Buck? You might get bored. Really fast.”

“Nah, don’t worry doll. I have nothing exciting to do and if you go alone then I’ll miss you and if I come we can pick up pizza on the way home!”

You pepper kisses all over his cheek before murmuring, “I like this plan! Just make sure you don’t rush me. I like to mosey around and look at everything.”

With a firm finger pointed at his chest you give him a no nonsense look.

“You’re so cute,” he says and shifts so you’re straddling his lap. “Especially when you try to look like you’re in charge.”

Your mouth falls open.

He pops it closed with his finger then grabs your chin and pulls you in for a kiss. “Come on let’s go look at makeup…not that you need any, you’re gorgeous.”

His sweet words make you smile and almost forget his earlier comment.

“I thought I was cute,” you counter with some sass.

“That too,” he agrees with a wink. “Especially when…”

“Don’t you dare say it again Barnes.”

He chuckles and hops off the couch to help you with your shoes, carefully tying each one before stealing one last kiss.

The moment you walk into the store you see his nose crinkle up.

“What?” you ask quietly, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

“That’s a lot of smell.”

“A lot of smell?” you repeat.

“Yeah…it just kinda…bam!” and me makes the motion of something exploding in front of his face.

“This was a bad idea,” you sigh.

He takes your hand in his and smiles. “Come on, show me stuff. I’ll be good.”

You lead him down the first aisle, walking slowly as you peruse the shelves of lipsticks and glosses. With his free hand he reaches up to touch one of the lipsticks on display.

“Woah,” he says as he pulls his hand back and rubs his fingers together. “That’s real.”

“Of course it’s real! Those are the testers. Don’t touch!”

He gives you a sheepish look and puts his hand in his pocket, still holding tightly to yours with the other one.

“What is that?” he asks when you pick up an eye shadow compact.

“Eye shadow,” you say and gently tug your hand from his to open the small container and show him.

“Sparkly,” he comments.

He looks over your shoulder as you browse through the different colors.

“Wait,” Bucky starts, his hands settling on your waist as he moves closer and looks at the prices.

“That thing is thirty-two bucks!”

“It’s Valentino,” you state. “Look how pretty.”

“It’s so tiny…” he picks up another compact and rolls it over in his large hand.

You move down the aisle and look at some of the palettes. When you open one Bucky appears over your shoulder again.

“Now that seems better. Lots of colors to choose from! How much is that?”

“Sixty-nine,” you say nonchalantly.

“SIXTY…” he shouts then immediately lowers his voice when you pin him with a glare. “Sixty-nine!!!” he says, more hushed but still clearly shocked.

You snap it shut. “It’s Huda and it’s all the nude colors. It’s good stuff.”

“Naughty,” he reads from the cover. “Naughty nude?”

Your lips start to lift into a smile as he waggles his eyebrows.

“The lipsticks have some good names too.”

You dance over to the Charlotte Tilbury section and start looking through the colors. You find one you like and pull it out, handing it to Bucky when he slides up next to you.

He turns it over in his hands before opening it.

“Your lips are the prettiest color…you don’t need…” he continues, clearly searching for the name.

You point to the bottom of the lipstick and he reads, “pillow talk.”

His eyebrows reach his hairline. “Cute but still not as pretty as your lips and definitely not for thirty-two bucks!”

You make a kissy face at him.

“Speaking of those pretty lips,” he simpers as he leans down to kiss you, backing you into the lipsticks and rattling the whole display. You plant your hands on his chest and push him away.

“Bucky,” you playfully chide. “Not in front of the lipstick.”

He gives you a boyish and lopsided smile. “What’s next?”

“I wanted a new moisturizer,” you muse as you saunter over to the section.

“Can’t wait to see how much that’s gonna cost me,” he mumbles before immediately snapping his mouth shut when you give him a dirty glare.

You don’t notice Bucky stop at the candles along the way, the scent too enticing, and he starts taking off the covers and sniffing each one. You turn to say something to him and realize he’s not there then spot his head over the display cases.

“Enjoying yourself?” you ask when you walk over to him.

“Smell this,” he says and puts the candle under your nose.

“Smells like figs!”

“Yeah!” he scoffs, “and this one smells like coconut and now I’m hungry!”

“You’re always hungry,” you tease with a roll of your eyes.

You walk back to the face creams and study a few different brands before you search for Bucky again, not finding him right away and starting to wonder where he is. As you turn the corner to check out the Biossance products you spot him bending down to look into one of the small mirrors as he rubs his finger over his cheek.

“What are you up to?” you ask when you get closer.

“This one feels nice,” he says, shoving the container in your hand. “It’s really soft, feel my cheek.”

Your eyes widen and you stare at him unblinking before shaking yourself free of your amazement.

“Are you trying them out?” you ask with a hardly contained giggle.

“Yeah,” he says, “look, this one says ‘tester’ on it. Aren’t I doin’ it right doll face?”

“You sure are,” you beam at him. “Lemme see.”

You press you fingers to his cheek and run them over his skin.

“I mean your beard makes you scruffy but you’re definitely moisturized.”

“Right?!” he says with bright eyes. “Which one are you gonna get? You’re already so soft all over.”

He slips his hand into your jacket and under the hem of your shirt, pulling you close with a hand at your waist as his thumb brushes small circles over your skin.

“I saw one from Fresh I liked,” you tell him, dragging your teeth over your bottom lip when his hand moves higher.

“Bucky,” you admonish but it’s a weak threat.

“I can’t wait to get home,” he hums against your lips.

You pull away, nearly breathless, and tug him toward the Fresh display.

“This one,” you show him.

“Smells nice and feels,” he begins, before dipping his finger into the tester, “creamy.”

“Ok, so I want that,” you sing and grab a packaged one and drop it in his hand. “And this eyeshadow palette and this lipstick and also this eyeliner.”

“Anything else?” he asks with a smirk.

“Maybe,” you say with a lift of your chin.

“I’m just teasing ya doll face, get whatever you want, but I still don’t think you need any of it.”

“Thanks Buck,” you say sweetly.

When you get to the register you greet the cashier warmly and place your things down. She smiles at you and Bucky and starts to ring it up.

“That’ll be $198.22 please.”

You turn to Bucky and start to laugh at his horrified expression. When you look over at the cashier she’s barely holding back her smile and you explain, “it’s his first time here. I usually leave him home.”

“I understand,” the cashier replies.

“Thankfully my husband is paying today,” you add.

You hold out your hand and Bucky drops his wallet into it with a defeated sigh.

After paying and bidding the cashier goodbye Bucky takes the bag in one hand and holds your hand with the other.

“I think I’m gonna come with you again next time,” he states. “Maybe I’ll get something for myself!”

“Sure baby, anytime you want, especially since you’re paying!”

He stops by the car door and places the bag on the roof, backing you against the cool metal.

“You know I’ll buy you anything you want baby doll,” he whispers against your lips, “even though you don’t need any of it...you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You nod and your eyelashes start to flutter closed, the press of his body and his sweet words wrapping you in warmth.

“Now let’s order a few pizzas and go home so I can eat some dinner then have you for dessert.”

@book-dragon-13 @dreamlessinparis @hiddles-rose @loki-laufeyson-1054 @lookiamtrying @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @seitmai

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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halsteadlover · 9 months

Text

Under Fire

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Paramedic!Reader.

• Requested by anon: Hey! Could you write an imagine where the reader is a paramedic and one day a person starts shooting at the ambo and Jay is called? Then he would be worried when he sees the reader there.

• Warnings: mention of sex, blood, gunshot, bad writing (yes it’s gonna be a warning from now on).

• Word count: 4289.

• A/N: this is by far one of the ugliest fics ever and honestly I’m even ashamed I posted it. It didn’t turn the way I wanted but I was too lazy and had no time to write it all again so here it is 💀 Sorry for the ppl who expected a good worried!Jay fic 😭 I’m sorry for any mistake too and of course I know all the ‘medical’ staff was probably inaccurate so pls bear with me lol

“Baby, breakfast is ready!”.

Jay's voice muffled to your ears from the kitchen as you hurriedly got ready for work, super late. You tied your hair into a ponytail, not wanting to waste any more time trying to fix it before running to the kitchen where Jay had just set breakfast on the table.

“I'm late honey I can't eat,” you said frantically, leaning closer to him and kissing him on the lips before stealing a waffle which you popped into your mouth and began to eat as you looked for your car keys.

“Babe you can't go to work without having breakfast,” Jay retorted as he drank his cup of coffee and watched you amused.

“Yeah? And whose fault is it that I’m late?” you asked ironically “Have you seen my keys baby? Damn it… I can't find them anywhere.”

Jay chuckled and there was no need to say he found them as soon as he started to search for them. He was about to hand them to you but suddenly put his hands behind his back. “I want a kiss first.”

You giggled like a little girl and placed your free hand on his face, kissing him passionately, as if it was the first time you'd seen him in ages. No matter how much time passed, Jay managed to have on you the same effect as the first day, and for a moment, lost in your senses, you almost forgot you had to run away to work.

“Mmmh,” he murmured into the kiss, intensifying it as his arm went around your waist, pressing your body further against his.

“Stop…” you muttered between kisses as you giggled “No,” one kiss “That’s not…” another kiss “Fair…” and yet another one. “You’ve already made me late this morning.”

“Baby it's not my fault you're so stunning. You know I can't keep my hands to myself,” he kept kissing you, taking the opportunity to shamelessly squeeze your ass. “You were naked in our bed, you really expected me not to fuck the shit out of you?”.

“Stop, you're making me hot again,” you placed your hands on his chest to push him away, receiving a frown from him. In a moment of distraction you grabbed the keys from his hand and took your bag, before giving him one last sweet kiss and go to the door “See you tonight baby, I love you. Be careful okay?”.

“I love you too princess, text me when you can and be careful too. Don't you even dare come back with even a scratch!”.

But unfortunately, things don’t always go the way we want them to.

Your morning was going well, you were on shift with Sylvie who wasted no time teasing you, between calls, about being late that morning.

“If you're jealous because I'm having hot sex and you're not, just say it blondie,” you retorted laughing, getting from your co-worker a little slap on the back of your head as she kept her eyes on the road while driving the ambo.

“You’re really a bitch you know that? Of course I'm jealous! Do you know how long it's been since I've been with someone? I don't even know what a penis looks like anymore.”

You giggled. “If after every shift you literally fly home to go to sleep, don't complain if you can't find anyone. You need to go out Sylvie, Molly's is always crowded, you'll find someone who can't wait to rail you.”

She burst out laughing. “Rail me? Where did this come from?”.

“I mean… You know… I didn't know the meaning of these words before I met my boyfriend…” you answered and Sylvie let out a fake gag while you dreamily recalled your intense sexual life with Jay.

“You are disgusting,” the blonde replied even though she laughed. Before she could add anything though, there was a call of a shooting with victim and the joyful and playful air disappeared almost instantly.

You were about to text Jay, updating him on the progress of your shift but you mentally cursed as you noticed your cell phone was dead and that’s when you remembered you didn't charge it last night.

You put it back in your pocket, mental noting you’d charge it as soon as you got back to the station.

When you and Sylvie arrived with sirens blaring at the scene where the shooting had taken place, you couldn't help but notice the amount of people there looking on curiously and trying to figure out what was going on. That neighborhood was not the most idyllic and safe, given the unfortunate presence of criminals and drug addicts, and you mentally prayed you could finish as soon as possible since you didn't feel at all calm in that place.

A man in his fifties came running towards you, cell phone in hand and a terrified expression on his face.

“What happened sir? Where’s the victim?” Sylvie asked as you fetched the first aid kit bags.

“This way. There's been a shooting… There's a young man… I don't know if he's still alive.”

The man pointed to a person lying on the ground, immersed in his own blood and at a rough guess he didn't seem to be more than 16 years old. He was just a little boy.

“We'll take care of it from now sir. Thank you for calling us. Now go back in your house and stay safe,” you said and he nodded before storming off and locking himself inside his house along with his family.

You put on your gloves and leaned over the victim. You checked his carotid pulse and breathing. “He’s breathing and there is still a pulse. But it's too weak.”

Sylvie lifted the victim's shirt, revealing the shotgun at stomach level, and spun him on his side for a moment. “There is an exit wound.”

“I'm putting an IV,” you stated before taking the necessary kit while Sylvie controlled the bleeding by dabbing the wound with clean gauze which was soaked in blood in no time. After placing the tourniquet, it was difficult to find an accessible vein due to the copious blood loss but eventually you succeeded.

As you continued to do everything in your power to keep the still unconscious patient alive, you didn't realize all passers-by had left and that a suspicious car was approaching until the sound of a shot broke the silence.

Your heart stopped for an instant.

It all happened so fast and in just few seconds that you didn't even realize what was happening.

It was all so fast but so slow at the same time.

Everything seemed to stop around you, the world started spinning fast and slow at the same time which you didn't even believe was possible. The seconds seemed to have turned into minutes, hours, and in you kept wondering when it would end.

You and Sylvie threw yourselves to cover the victim, but not before a bullet went through your arm causing you to scream in pain. “Fuck!” you exclaimed as an excruciating pain made you bend to the ground for an instant.

“Y/N! Oh my god!” exclaimed Sylvie, rushing towards you regardless of the danger. Your hand covered your wound from where blood gushed and you tried to take a few breaths to try to regain control of yourself. You hadn't been shot at before by now, but damn it hurt like hell.

“I'm fine,” you murmured and when you opened your eyes you saw a woman lying on the ground not far from you. “Shit… Sylvie, go to that woman…”

Sylvie glanced between you and the poor woman lying on the asphalt, not sure what to do. “I am fine. Go! I'll take care of it here!”.

She nodded and grabbed a first aid bag before running to the woman, leaving you with the still unconscious victim. You checked him to make sure he wasn't hit and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw he wasn't.

You called for help on your radio before getting up with no small effort, dragging the victim behind a car, thus keeping you sheltered.

Your heart was pounding and you didn't know what to do, the fear they'd come back to kill you paralyzed you. You leaned against the car, bringing your eyes to the wound on your arm and noticing you were losing more blood than you would’ve expected.

“Shit,” you winched in pain even if the adrenaline rushed through your veins. You decided not to think about it and just treat the patient until help arrived, after all you weren't going to die from a shot in an arm.

You got up from the car and approached the patient, noticing the movement of his chest was no longer regular and that he was struggling to breathe. You took your stethoscope and listened to his chest, hearing crackles and a muffled sound in the right lung.

“Damn it,” you whispered to yourself, taking deep breaths as the pain became more intense and trying to focus solely on the victim and not on the excruciating pain you were feeling. The victim had a pneumothorax and you knew if you didn't treat it right away, you ran the risk of losing him before help even arrived.

You took all the kit needed to aspirate the air from his lung but your hand was shaking too much to be able to proceed. “Come on. You can do it,” you kept telling yourself and breathing deeply. With no little effort you managed to make a small incision and insert the small catheter to allow the air to escape. You listened to his lungs again after a bit with the stethoscope and breathed a sigh of relief when you realized the pulmonary sound was good and he was breathing properly. You fixed the catheter to his chest with a plaster and continued to treat the wound on the abdomen.

He was losing too much blood and if he hadn't gone to the hospital immediately he would’ve died there in front of you.

Your forehead was drenched in sweat, your arms and body were giving up as you noticed in the distance Sylvie giving a CPR to the woman who had presumably also been shot.

You heard the sound of sirens of the police and of another ambulance in the distance and for the first time in the last half hour your heart started properly beating again.

Jay, meanwhile, didn't have a clue what was going on, that you'd been shot, rushed to the hospital, or he’d completely lose his mind.

His day, unlike yours, was going on normally and no new cases had turned up so he spent the morning sorting through paperwork and old reports that were still incomplete.

He checked his cell phone to see if you'd answered him but still nothing. The last time he knew about you was when he saw you walk out the door of the apartment you shared and he couldn't stop the veil of anxiety that had passed through him. He knew he was exaggerating, as you were most likely having a busy morning and for this reason you hadn’t reached out to him.

He tried to keep his mind at bay, to stay calm and tell himself everything would be fine, that you were okay and he’d hear from you soon.

But when he saw Sylvie's name on the screen as his cell phone rang, he knew immediately that something wasn’t right and the slight feeling of anxiety was replaced by a real vice in his stomach.

“Sylvie? What happened? Is my girlfriend okay?” he asked as soon as he answered the call, without even giving her time to say anything. He knew something was up and didn’t want to waist time.

“Jay…” she breathed out, her voice clearly shaking but Jay couldn't care less.

“Sylvie tell me immediately what the hell happened. Where’s Y/N? Is she okay?” he ordered in a harsh and hostile tone, more than he ever wanted to.

“We are at Med's and…”

That was all it took for him to go crazy and not understand anything anymore.

Before she could finish her sentence he had already hung up the phone and, without even notifying his boss, he exited the unit at lightning speed, under the gaze of his worried and astonished teammates.

His mind kept repeating the last words spoken by Sylvie and never as in that moment did he feel like the world completely collapsed on him. He hadn't even asked what happened, whether you were okay or not, and as he drove like a madman through the streets of Chicago, he kept praying, praying and praying.

“God please let her be okay,” he kept muttering to himself, his heart pounding so hard in his chest he felt like it was going to stop at any moment. He tried to call you several times but each time it directed him to your voicemail. “Fuck!” he had exclaimed hitting the steering wheel in frustration and after throwing the cell phone on the passenger seat, without caring whether it broke or not.

You had to be okay, it couldn't have been otherwise. You had to be okay because you had to spend the rest of your life with him, he had to marry you, start a family with you, raise your children, maybe have pets, and to do that you had to feel good.

Jay knew that your job, as well as his, could be dangerous, but that didn't make the anxiety any less oppressive, the fear of losing you any less crippling.

It might seem like an exaggeration but he couldn't live without you, he couldn't imagine a life in which you weren't there, he couldn't imagine coming home and not finding you there preparing dinner with so much care and love, he couldn't imagine coming home and not finding you walking barefoot, the music blasting while you danced and sang as you cleaned the house, he couldn't imagine waking up in the morning and not feeling your body against his, the scent of your hair entering his nostrils, your arms holding him preventing him from getting up to go to work when you weren't on shift.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he babbled not wanting to even think about this possibility as he darted through the streets without even bothering to stop at red lights and risking causing accidents at least a couple of times.

When he got to the hospital he immediately ran towards the nurses' station, failing even to realize that Maggie was already talking to a patient.

“Maggie where is Y/N? Is she fine?” he asked frantically getting a glare from the gentleman who was previously talking to Maggie. She shot an apologetic look at the man and nodded to the room you were in before giving her attention back to the patient.

Jay ran towards the room and without even thinking twice pulled the curtain away, an expression of pure fear and concern on his face. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw you were lying on the crib, alive.

“Jay!” you exclaimed, not expecting to find your boyfriend in front of you in the hospital, lifting yourself up as if to reach him.

“Y/N stay still,” Connor admonished you, who was tending your wound.

“Oh thank God,” Jay finally managed to calm down and finally breathe again. He walked over to you and gently grabbed your face with his still trembling hands, leaving a kiss on your forehead. It lasted longer than it should’ve but Jay didn't care, he just wanted to savor the moment, smell the scent of your hair, your skin, and realize you were really there in front of him, that you hadn't left him.

“Halstead, you shouldn't be here,” Connor commented without looking up from the bullet hole in your arm.

“Shut up Rhodes, just focus about treating her,” Jay retorted and the serious tone in which he said it caused both you and Connor to chuckle but as soon as you looked at him you stopped immediately, noticing the expression of pain and concern with which he was looking at you.

“What happened baby? My God…” he stroked your face, your hair, “Why didn't you call me? What did they do to you?”. His eyes moved from your features to your arm and he immediately knew it was a bullet hole. He had assumed that you’d been pushed, maybe fallen somewhere, but he hadn't thought it was a shot at all.

Anxiety and worry were quickly replaced by anger and rage and in that precise moment he promised himself he’d make the bastard who had done this to you, who had dared to hurt you, pay.

“I told Sylvie not to call you…” you started talking, not answering Jay's questions but he cut you off, “Y/N please… I'm mad enough you didn't call me and I had to hear from your colleague you ended up in the hospital, don’t even think about making jokes right now.”

“Sorry Jay, it's just… You were at work and I didn't want to worry you. I'm fine as you can see and Connor will fix me.”

“You're not fine,” Connor intervened, glancing at you before continuing to treat the wound “If you hadn't continued to treat the victim your arm wouldn't be in so bad shape, the bullet had gone too deep. But luckily I'm very good at my job.”

If looks could kill, you should’ve been petrified after Jay's glare.

“Connor, you really don't know when to shut your mouth, do you?”.

“Y/N,” Jay spoke up “I'm not playing and I'm about to lose my mind. Tell me what the hell happened.”

You sighed, looking down at your belly as you recalled those moments of terror that seemed to have happened not long ago but at the same time, so long ago.

Jay noticed the way your free hand was shaking slightly and he felt guilty for raising his voice after the traumatic event you had suffered earlier that morning. “Sorry baby,” he said, caressing your cheeks and then giving you another soft kiss on your forehead. He held you as best he could, your head level with his stomach as he continued to stroke your hair, your cheeks, trying to calm you down. It was his way of saying he was there, that you were safe and never like then did you mentally thank Sylvie for calling him.

“It’s okay, I’m here now. Everything will be okay baby.”

God only knew how terrified you were, how afraid you were of dying, never seeing the love of your life again, never hugging him again and feeling him holding you, cradling and caressing you… Shit, this was one of the best feelings you ever had the pleasure of trying in your life.

You kept thinking over and over of those scary moments, the sound of those gunshots you knew would echo in your mind for far too long. No manual, no course would’ve ever prepared you for all this, you knew that being a paramedic would’ve taken you to places where danger was around the corner, but the adrenaline, the fear, that terror… No one would’ve ever been able to preparing for this.

You didn't even realize Connor had finished bandaging your wound until you saw with the corner of your eye he was getting up and collecting all the dirty gauze and other tools he had used. “I can't stress enough about the fact you don't have to exert yourself. You have to rest for at least a week, after that you can do some office work, but no work on the field until you’ll be able to move your arm.”

“Trust me she won’t. Thanks Rhodes,” Jay replied and Connor gave him a smile, then patted him on the shoulder with an ungloved hand.

“I'll leave you two alone.”

You tried to move you arm a bit but it was still numb from the local anesthetic. Jay sat on the edge of the bed, taking your free hand and intertwining his fingers with yours as his thumb stroked your back.

“You made me worry to death you know? I think I've died and risen a thousand times in the last hour.” He was the one who spoke first, but his tone was soft and reassuring. His free hand stroked your face, tucking a strand of hair that had escaped your ponytail, behind your ear.

“I'm so sorry Jay,” you mumbled back, feeling awfully guilty to see him like this, features contracted up with concern, eyes shining.

“You don't have to apologize, I'm just so happy you're okay,” he hugged you and you returned that hug, with your free arm. “God Y/N, I wouldn't have known what to do without you. I've never been so scared as today...” he kept talking “Don't ever do this to me again.”

“I was so scared Jay… I…” you stammered, trying to swallow the lump in your throat “I thought I'd never see you again…”

“Shh, it's okay. I'm here now and you're safe, I won't let anyone hurt you anymore,” he tried to calm you down even if he was feeling a storm inside. He was angry, furious, because he wasn't there to protect you, because if he had the person responsible in his hands he would’ve killed them with his bare hands, because he hated seeing you like that, scared, trembling in his arms. And he wanted to cry, cry so hard, because the fear he'd had of losing you was paralyzing.

Jay had never been in a situation where he’d even think you weren't next to him. To him it was like you were a superhero, immortal, that one way or another you'd always come back to him and he had taking all of this for granted. Reality had hit him full blown and left him breathless, making him lose the ground under his feet, the world collapsing around him and made him understand it wasn't like this, that fate was sometimes a bastard and that only event made him realize how important you were to him. Maybe even more than he could have ever imagined.

How much he loved you, for goodness sake, it was overwhelming. You were his whole world, and however absurd, ridiculous, cheesy, or over the top that might seem, Jay really couldn't live without you. It was a phrase he had told you so many times but in that particular absurd event it took on an even deeper and more real meaning and he really, really couldn't exist in a world where you weren't by his side.

And he didn't care how cheesy any of that sounded, it was the plain, simple, unequivocal truth.

“Baby you're choking me,” you muttered as he began to hold you so tight it literally blocked your breath. Your voice brought him back to reality, “Shit. Sorry, baby I didn't realize it,” he said giving you a kiss on the lips and you smiled at him, “It's okay.”

“Are you okay? Do you need something?”.

You shook your head, your lids suddenly feeling heavy. “No, just some rest.”

Jay smiled sweetly, looking at you with so much love and affection. “I know baby, I know. As soon as they prepare the discharge documents, I'll take you home and you can rest as long as you want.”

You nodded and the tender expression on your face made his heart explode. Had he already said how much he fucking loved you? “You'll stay with me right? I need you.”

“Do you really think I would’ve left you alone knowing what you've been through? I'll take the rest of the day off and, since I have a lot of accumulated vacation days, I’ll take the next few weeks as well.”

You smiled faintly. You didn’t want him to not go to work and felt selfish but God, you needed him so badly so you didn’t even complain. “Thank you love.”

“Do you feel like telling me what happened?” Jay asked, now impatient. You told him everything from how you were treating the victim, to the shooting and until help arrived. It goes without saying how furious Jay was when you finished speaking and how he looked ready to smash something against the walls.

“It's over baby, I'm really fine now, luckily they hit me on the arm and not elsewhere where it could’ve been so much worse. I'll get better soon, you know how these things go,” you tried to reassure him, placing your hand on his face and stroking his skin, a gesture that made him relax a little. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad Y/N, I’m furious. You are the most precious thing in my life and I’d kill anyone for even touch a strand of your hair in the wrong way. Knowing you were there alone, that you couldn't defend yourself, someone dared to hurt you… I can’t even explain the rage I’m feeling right now,” he replied, the tone of low voice as your words kept echoing in his mind. “I'm so sorry my baby,” he caressed your face “My precious princess. I’m so sorry for not being there and failing to protect you. It shouldn't have happened, especially not to you. If something…”

“No love no,” you interrupted him, not letting him finish that sentence “Let's not think about that. I'm here now, you're here with me and that's all that matters, okay?”.

“I know, I know,” he replied. But they’ll still have to pay for what they did to you.

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hellsburners · 9 months

Text

pain and suffering

summary: to which criminals run from the shadows, and the shadows run home to you. pairing: frank castle x male reader x matt murdock word count: 4k warnings: 18+ warning, unprotected s3x, dom!mattfrank, bottom!reader, double pen3tration, blowj0bs, mentions of violence a/n: i got this request like a whole month ago and im sorry to anon it took me a while to think of this

masterlist | more matt murdock

gif credit for frank & matt

The night air looms over Hell’s Kitchen. A normal person might hear the honking of cars and the loud chitchat of people in the street, but to a man like Daredevil, he hears everything. He hears Sally from down the street, crying as her husband comes home drunk, or Dominic, stealing another purse to pay for his brother’s medical bills. The city is not just a cluster of sounds for a man like the Devil, it’s a war cry. His city needs help, so he braces for the jump, a leap into the battlefield.

To him, pain and suffering is a saint. The pain of every hit, every jab, and every punch. To Matt Murdock, the pain of getting hit is like lashing for every sin he’s made. He is the fist of God, the guardian angel of the Kitchen, his suffering is the price for the safety of his people. So to him, yes, pain and suffering is the saint that guides him, the adrenaline to jump, to fight, to stand back up and fight again because he knows if he doesn’t, worse men will.

He sits wounded on top of a building, the hanging laundry hiding him from plain sight. He pants, blood gushing from his lower rib. But then he smells it: gunpowder. The sound of clanking metal and rubber boots walking closer to him. He knows that smell, the smell of danger, the smell of bad news, the smell of The Punisher.

“They hit ya’ pretty bad tonight Red,” his rough voice roared across the building. He smells of blood, not his blood, but the blood of at least thirty other men.

“I don’t need your help, Frank,” Matt said, wincing as he tried to stand.

“I doubt that,” he was closer to Matt, he took the rear end of his rifle and pressed it to Matt’s wound, he cried out in pain. “See?”

“I don’t need any help from you.”

“That’s your problem, Red. You’re so self-righteous. You’re out here bleeding yourself to death thinking God sent you here on earth to be his punchin’ bag,'' he puts the rifle down, the metal butt hitting the floor. “You think your God can miraculously heal your wounds? The Devil ain’t no saint.”

“And you’re any better?” Matt spat. “You wear that skull on your chest and you think that gives you the license to be a killer?” he licks his dried-up lips, the wounds weighing on him. “You’re a beast, Frank. A wild creature with no self-control, bloodthirsty, and—and inhumane.”

Frank was right, but Matt’s pride would never take any help from Frank Castle, he’s a murderer, a cold-blooded killer, and men like him have no place roaming the streets of New York. Matt tries to walk away from Frank, he could feel the blood drip into his waist, his head dizzy. Before he could even reach a meter away from Frank he feels the pull of the earth and drops into the cement floor, out cold.

“Dumbass,” Frank spat.

—

To Frank Castle, pain and suffering is a weapon.

Pain is the bullet to the head of a wife beater, a pedophile, a human trafficker, and any other demented fuck that helps in spreading crime in his city. He sniffs in the scent, it’s nauseating, the smell of garbage and piss, the smell of dead bodies piled in a heap for the cops to find. The blood pooled on his boots, painting them red. He reloads the gun, pulling on the lever that locks the bullet in the barrel, ready for the trigger.

“Please, man. I have a wife and two kids,” the bald man begged. His shirt was soaked in blood, a bullet grazed his hip. He walks backward achingly, his back hitting the wall. “Fuck, man I swear I don't know anything ‘bout this! ”the man kneels in front of Frank, his hands together like he’s praying.

Pain is the bullet that ends all suffering.

Bang!

The man falls on the concrete, blood dripping out of his skull. Frank wipes the blood splatter on his face with his sleeve. He takes the pistol and slides it into the holster on his thigh. He grabs the man’s sleeve and pulls him into the heap. No loose ends.

Frank takes his rifle and leaves. Taking the rooftops so the cops won’t see him. His body is sore, but it was never a hindrance. He sees a red blur across the building. The Devil himself, running from a bunch of men. Frank notices the Devil walking strangely, a hand on his left to cover a bleeding wound.

He takes the sniper rifle and aims it at the four men searching for the masked vigilante. He reloads the rifle, and one by one the men drop dead. The Devil was clueless as to where the bullets came from. He walks over to the wounded man, lumped over the side of a rooftop wincing in pain.

Frank had always admired the Devil’s determination, always standing back up after a fight, the line he wouldn’t cross, it amused Frank in a way. He liked to toy with it, always putting the red vigilante in positions where his moral code is tested.

You know you’re one bad day away from becoming like me.

Frank once told him, and he guessed it wasn’t true. Despite how hard the world hit him, he never crossed that line. That’s why when the Devil ended up face down on the concrete floor he took his body into his shoulder. Carrying his body to the only place he knew would understand the situation. To the person that knew the creed of pain and suffering.

He stands in front of the wooden door, the door was locked. Not his first instinct to knock, because he knew he would always be let in. He knocked on the door, no answer. He knocked louder, banging on the door, the sounds echoing throughout the hallway.

“Jesus Christ, people will hear you,” you said, answering the door.

—

To you, pain and suffering is a curse. The curse that binds people to hospital beds for years, slowly rotting into the sheets as more and more medicine gets pumped into their veins. The curse that brings people into the emergency room, stabbed my knives, with broken knees, amputated fingers, and gunshot wounds through bone and muscle.

You earn money from pain and suffering. Doctor’s fees from people you know can’t even afford it. You always wanted to give them pro-bono, but you weren't loaded like that. That’s why when injured vigilantes were involved, everyone in the New York underground knew your number.

You had known people like Maya Lopez, Misty Knight, Ben Reilly, Ty Johnson, and Tandy Bowen alongside other masked heroes. That’s why when The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen arrived at your door four months ago you didn’t second guess your decision to help him. To you, helping these people would absolve you of being complicit in the suffering of innocent people in the hospital.

“Got your number from Spider-man, hope you don’t mind,” he said, sprawled on your kitchen table covered in blood. His muscular body contracted from the pain as you sewed his wounds shut. You never truly cared about forming connections with your clients, it was more of a get-patched-up-and-leave type of way.

He would often flirt with you whenever he came by, his dimples forming under his mask whenever he smiled or laughed. “Don’t worry Doc’ I’m a big boy,” he said, smiling at you. The smile quickly faded when you dug into his skin to retrieve the bullets on his bicep, a groan leaving his lips. You tried not to think about it, but he's pretty cute.

On one night, a man banged on your door, you rushed to meet a shadow drenched in blood as if it was raining blood from the sky, a white skull on his chest. His hoarse voice groaned as you took him into your kitchen. Multiple bullet wounds, and gashes on his chest, in your personal opinion a person with that many injuries would've ended up on the morgue.

“Did you fall into a meat grinder? What the hell,” you said. You tried your best to patch him up but he needed some blood transfusions.

“Check the bag,” he groaned. Inside were bags of blood from the hospital, all type O, what the fuck.

He stayed in your house for two nights, you checked his vitals every hour to make sure he was still alive. This hasn’t happened before, you’ve never had a client that was on the brink of death. It was always some minor injury, but this man managed to wake up and stand after two days to leave.

You found a bundle of one hundred dollar bills in your mailbox the next day.

—

“Bring him to the couch,” you said. You took Matt’s body as Frank carried his legs, you took his limp body into the sofa, a deep wound on the torso, an easy fix for you at this point. It has been months since you first met the two men in your apartment. You’ve spent multiple nights helping them, in your apartment, or Matt’s, or Frank’s bunker. You were technically associated with them to the point that you know their real names.

“The emergency kit is on the kitchen counter.”

“Got it Doc,” Frank saluted, removing his trench coat and his bulletproof vest, his muscular form bulging through his black shirt. They reeked of blood, you could taste the iron on your tongue.

Matt’s eyes fluttered, his head turning to the sound of your voice. “Hey,” he said, groaning through the pain. You cut his undershirt open, the wound gushing out blood. You took some gauze to soak the viscous liquid, making sure the clotting starts.

“Sit your ass down, Red,” Frank ordered. You managed to sew the wound shut, you gave Matt some pain relievers as his eyes fell back into sleep. You let him rest for a bit, covering him in a fleece blanket. You walked towards Frank, a few cuts on his arms, he was already in the middle of sewing some of them before you helped. “Don’t worry about me, it’s nothin’”

“Make sure you don’t die in my kitchen this time,” you said, walking to the kitchen sink to rinse your bloodied hands. You opened your refrigerator to grab a drink. “Want a beer?”

“Sure,” Frank nods.

You took a cold beer from your fridge, the metal caps clanking on the floor. You handed him the bottle, he took a big swig like he was thirsty for water, some liquid falling from the corner of his lips. He sat on a wooden chair, legs spread, the hem of his shirt raising a bit to show a peak of his abdomen.

Matt soon woke up. Much to your disagreement, taking a beer of his own. He took a seat in your dining area, topless with bandages around his torso. The three of you are looking at each other around the table. “So–what happened tonight?” you asked.

Matt’s frown was deadset. Frank taking gulps of his second bottle of beer. You were taking sips of your bottle, looking at the heated tension between the two. It was annoyingly anxiety-inducing. “You know, I don’t know what’s the point of talking to you two—I’m a physician, not a therapist.”

“You need to stay away from him,” Matt said, his lips a straight line. “He’s a dangerous person with nothing good going on for his pathetic life.”

“Boohoo! Little catholic boy here feels entitled about being god’s little bitch,” Frank spat. “Is that what you think bitch boy?”

“See? He’s an immature old fuck that thinks the world’s answer to violence is guns and bullets,” Matt said, downing his beer.

“He’s just using his lawyer bullshit on you,” Frank said.

You rolled your eyes, it’s always like this, them bickering. You downed the beer, the bitter taste running through your tongue. You set it down with a loud clunk. The two men halted their bickering.

“I’m not taking sides but I think both of you are annoying cry babies that should just kiss and make out!” the two men frowned their brows. “You bicker like an old couple—the two of you need to suck it up because, at the end of the day, the two of you leave a trail of blood in this city that I clean!” you shouted.“You know how many people end up in the emergency room thanks to you two, I don’t even keep count of them anymore.”

Matt called for your name, to apologize or something, but you took another bottle of beer and gulped on the bubbly drink. Instead of talking you took his lips to yours, the bitter taste of his mouth shared with yours. His hands come to your neck, fingers wrapping around the flesh as his tongue meets yours. You smell his clean shampoo mixing with the alcohol, he smelled like a man who took hygiene seriously.

You pull back to walk towards Frank, bending down to kiss him, pressing on his shoulder with your hands to guide you. The bitter taste of both of your mouths intoxicates you. He grabs the hem of your shirt, pulling you in more. He smelled of cheap soap and gunpowder. You pulled away to catch them frozen, feet glued to the floor, aghast.

“See,” you rubbed your hands. “Not hard at all.”

Frank was biting his lip chuckling, his fingers massaging his lip. He pulled you to his lap, kissing you harder, his hands falling to your ass. Your hands run through his dark hair, his stubble pricking your face. You moaned from the contact, Matt’s enhanced senses making the sound echo in his head. He hesitated but his groin turned to the noises you made. Frank’s lips fall to your neck, nibbling on the skin eliciting more lewd noises from you.

“See this red?” he said. “This little slut likes it.”

“Play with his ear, he likes it,” Matt ordered. Frank hadn’t known that.

“He also likes it when I do this,” he pinches your nipples, and you shudder from the slight pain. The two men didn’t know that you had experiences of having sex with them on different occasions. “So you’re a little whore huh, you do this to all of your clients?”

“No—,” you gasped. “Just you two.”

Matt chuckled. Frank had set you on his lap so that you were facing Matt, his hands playing with both of your nipples as he left purple hickeys all over your neck. Matt had knelt in front of you palming your growing erection. The ache in your groin grows from the lack of release. Tonight these men offer you more pain and suffering but in ways that elicit nothing but pleasure.

He takes your trousers off leaving you with nothing but your shirt, finally something to ease the pain. Matt stood to open his pants, his thick cock standing tall, the hairs neatly trimmed. “Take his dick inside your mouth,” Frank whispered, while he stretched your legs open so his fingers could tease your hole. He took his fingers to your mouth making it wet.

Matt’s hands ran through your hair, his tip teasing your swollen lips. As you took his length into your mouth, Frank's finger entered your hole curling inside drawing out muffled sounds from your mouth. You were quickly bent over by Frank, his head in between your ass cheeks licking and fingering your hole, while your head was bobbing up and down on Matt’s cock.

Frank smacked your ass so hard it left a red print as he continued to toy with your rear. Matt groaned as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. Frank pulled you back with your hair, popping Matt’s cock out with a string of saliva. It was painful the way they carried you, but in some sick twist of events, it turned you on even more.

“My turn,” Frank said, as he takes your mouth to his sex, you engulf his thick uncut cock, your nose hitting his unkempt hair taking in his scent. Matt bent down to toy with your hole, curling and stretching two fingers inside you stimulating your prostate. You were turning your lips as you sucked on Frank’s cock, a hoarse groan leaving his mouth as he grabbed onto your hair tightly.

Matt stroked your cock as he moaned, eating you out with his wet tongue and playing with the rim of your hole. Frank took control of your mouth, fucking into it like you’re his sex toy, his cocking hitting the roof of your mouth at a constant speed. Frank could feel his climax coming so he pulls out leaving you a wet mess next to Matt.

“Can I fuck you?” Matt asked. You nod, taking them into your bedroom.

Frank undressed and took a seat on the small sofa chair in the corner of the room, stroking his hard cock. You were on all fours on the bed, facing Frank. His eyes glued to you as he stroked. Matt lubes your hole before slowly pressing his cock into your hole. You gasped as he sheathed into you. Frank smirked, this turned him on even more, his large arms contracting as he stroked his cock.

Matt started to fuck you slowly, his hips slapping your ass. He started to let out guttural moans, his hips becoming rigid as he gripped onto your waist, his nails digging into your skin. He bends down to kiss your neck, rutting into you, his hard thrusts ramming into you. “I’m close,” he moaned. He jerks your cock to the point that you yelp out, cum shooting out of your cock as he continues to jerk his hips before he emptied inside you, a deep groan leaving his lips as his cum fills you. You two collapsed on the bed, his body weight on top of you.

“Move over Red,” Frank said, looming over you as Matt moves over before Frank mounts you. Matt’s cum formed a slippery lube that made Frank’s cock ease its way as it thrusts. Your body was still weak from your high. He grabs onto your hair as he ruts into you, continuing his hard pace against your body. “You like that?” he said, stroking your sore cock back to hardness.

“Ye–yes, fuck,” you moaned.

Matt was at the edge of the bed, soothing your hair as he peppered kisses all over your face. The bed creaked as Frank humped you, veins popping across his arms as his grip on you tightened, you’re sure it would leave marks. He pulled out, leaving you to gasp from the sudden lack of fullness. He sits back on the headboard of your bed, legs sprawled as he gestures for you to ride him. You mount yourself on his hardness, sitting on his thick and hairy thighs. Matt sits on the edge of the bed, his erection coming back from the sight of you two.

“Take it like a good boy,” Frank praises. You hold onto his chest as you feel the hardness enter you, some of Matt’s cum leaking out. You take Frank’s lips, you now realize how abrasive his stubble was. You move your hips around and around, Frank lets out curses here and there. He pulls your head back, littering your neck with more marks, his fingers find your nipples, teasing them to draw out more moans from you.

Franks sees Matt on the side, his hard already leaking precum just from watching you take Frank’s cock. He calls for Matt to come to you two, to join back in. You feel Matt’s fingertips on your skin, your body is now so filled with stimulation, his mere touch driving you wild. You feel his erection on your back, his lips attached to your shoulders. He takes his leaking cock and presses into your hole, the size alongside Frank’s was a tight fit, your breathing quickens from all the pressure. The two men made sure to guide you and praise you as you take both of their lengths.

You cry out from the sensation. Frank takes your lips to stifle your cries, tears fall from your eyes as your tongues touch, and Matt inches to join your kiss. The three of you kiss into the pain, The two men slowly moving inside you. The pressure was so intense but the arousal overcame, your sex was so hard, leaking so much into Frank’s abdomen. They start to thrust, Matt could feel his sensitive frenulum rub on Frank’s, it made his eyes roll back, his senses overflowing.

All of you reeked of sex, the sounds of slapping skin and wet tongues fighting for dominance against the grunts and moans. The constant rocking was making the bed hit the wall, the mattress moved as if there were an earthquake. You were all covered in sweat, hair sticking onto skin, Hands gripping the wooden headboard, fingertips roaming skin, and tongues lashing on each other.

Everything felt like a blur to you, you were being rocked back and forth like a playground swing, your core sore from the fucking, and there were pairs of hands all over you touching your most sensitive spots. You could feel the climax, creeping into your body tingling your coccyx to the highest peak of your spine. You felt their erratic thrusts, Frank was a groaning mess under you, his neck all red and his face flushed. Matt was a noisy mess on your ear, cursing and calling your name like a prayer, his arm wrapped around your waist as he fucked.

You were at your peak, arousal overflowed from your body into theirs. Their cum filling into you. You all yelped out in pleasure as you rode your highs. Frank dug his hands into your thighs as Matt hid his forehead on your shoulder, rutting their fill into you. The next few minutes came to you in flashing lights, like fireworks spraying colored lights all over the room.

You woke up the next day to two heavy bodies at your sides. Matt’s arms around your waist with your head resting on Frank’s chest. All of you reeked of sweat and cum. As you turned you saw Matt’s eyes flutter, his long lashes flicking as his golden eyes beamed under the sunlight.

“Sorry about last night,” he whispered.

“Why? I had fun,” you said, peppering kisses all over his cheeks.

“You sure?” he said, as he rubbed his thumbs on your cheeks.

“Pretty sore but nothing a pain reliever won’t fix,” you said.

“I guess you’re right, making out fixes everything,” Frank said, his voice deeper. He joins you and Matt, pressing kisses all over your shoulders. Matt takes this as a sign to kiss you all over your neck, their hands snaking all over your body. “What’s good for breakfast around here?” Frank said in between kisses.

“There’s a good diner across the street,” Matt said, leaving soothing kisses on the marks they left on your neck. Your body was so sore and painful, but these men made sure to make it up to you. You woke up last night to them cleaning you up, Matt wiping you with a damp cloth and Frank rummaging through your closet to grab something for you to wear. Despite their rough lifestyles, they made sure you were taken care of. Maybe a little less pain and suffering next time though.

“But first,” you said, pulling away from them.” Shower.”

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

#matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #daredevil smut #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x male reader #daredevil x male reader #matt murdock x male reader smut #daredevil x male reader smut #punisher smut #frank castle x reader #frank castle x male reader #frank castle x reader smut #frank castle x male reader smut #punisher x reader smut

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inblurtub · 4 months

Text

all i want for christmas is you ft. ‘colormytree’ website

warning: platonic relationship!

in which you sent each drivers on the grid the ‘colormytree’ website url and asked for xmas messages. here are some of their responses:

max verstappen

named his puppy ornament ‘MAX’

“hey y/n, so how’s spain nd everything? just thought that i would text you a merry xmas gif later today:) too bad they do not have that option here. btw it’s lovely to know that i’m the first one to hang an ornament on your tree, did you text me first, if so i must say that i’m really honoured:) anyway merry christmas and happy new year, looking forward to see you in jan!!”

lando norris

named his santa claus-on-a-ski ‘doubtinglife’

“my twin flame✨🍀💥💐 ya must have miss me so much huh??? happy merry christmas to you and to little eilie too!!! i’ll back in monaco this thur, do you wanna catch up w me?”

“ps: ooops lo siento i forgot you are still in spain. pick a day and pay me a visit then, you owe me a fancy dinner!!!”

george russell

named his wrapped present with red ribbons ornament ‘gr’

“this is honestly kinda cute, really giving me your vibe mate. so uhm… for today only i will say nice things. merry chrismas y/n, i wish u all the best. let’s have a fearless life and maybe got urself a bf or a gf who will madly love you next year. nighty🌛”

charles leclerc

named his polar bear ‘🎄’

“hi y/n merry christmas, wanna take a guess on who am i? btw love this idea of yours, the tree is sooo beautiful and i love the doodles ornaments too, well i might make myself a tree later:) i’ll send you the link first! and i heard that you are in spain? stay safe while visiting barcelona, the guys their are a bit wild in my opinion😂 anw hoping to see u asap🫶🏻”

carlos sainz

named his kitten face ornament ‘hotsummernight’

“ciao ciao, merry xmas to you ms. silly disney princess. don’t need to write a whole paragraph here, do i? i have prepared a present for you, pls come over at 7pm for dinner! but hey i still need u to text me later, u know, for a confirmation:) have a g’day then, see you!!”

oscar piastri

named his orange ornaments ‘theawardshow’

"nice try from you to steal my attention. so how have you been? hope things don’t mess up with u. merry christmas and happy new year, i’m grateful to have you as my friend this year, you’re like a gift. and not the kind i’d return for store credit:) that’s it, enjoy urself and have fun.”

“yikes i hope that no one can read this thing but you, if this message got revealed to the others so there’s a good chance that i might quit racing next year, too embarrassing honestly.”

#formula one fanfiction #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #fi x reader #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #george russell x reader #formula one x you #max verstappen x you #charles leclerc x you #carlos sainz x you #lando norris x y/n #female reader #oscar piastri x you

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alomone · 3 months

Text

: ̗̀➛ You gifted Brahms a sweater for the winter

Brahms Heelshire x GN!Reader

Masterlist

Requests and asks are open!!

gif is not mine , credit to the person who made it

You had been thinking about buying some clothes for Brahms for a long time now, winter was settling itself, temperature going down and you knew that Brahms didn't have that much clothes, beside the one he already had or the one you bought for him disguising them as yours knowing how much he liked stealing your clothes.

Leaving the house has been more acceptable this past few weeks, you had talk with Brahms, he understood that sometimes you needed to leave the house for a few hours but that never meant that you were going to leave him alone for too long.

"It's only for three hours, Brahms, I will be back as soon as I finish shopping! I promise I will go as fast as I can and will get home immediately, you can wait for me, right?", you had reassured him as you put on your coat and took the car keys, looking up at the tall frame watching you for the corridor.

You waved him goodbye, reminding him that it won't take long. It took a good two hours to make your way into town and find the right sweater that would suit him best, opting for a simple sweater with a nice fabric, you had made your way back, hoping that Brahms would like it.

When you got back from your little shopping trip, Brahms was waiting for you at the door, as you enter with a bag of the few new clothes you just bought, you smiled at him. "Brahms, I have something for you!" he was approaching, ready to follow you around like he always does. Brahms looked almost surprised, which was hard to tell with his mask on.

"Do you like it?" You asked with the calmest tone possible in the moment as your heart fluttered at the sight of hands shakingly holding the sweater up to his face. Brahms nodded quickly and started walking back to his room when you stopped him.

“Brahms, it needs to be washed first, I will give it back to you!” You had heard a sigh before he went back to you, letting you take the new sweater from him.

If a simple sweater could make this man happy then you would buy him even more because that made you happy too.

#˗ˏˋalaric writes´ˎ˗#brahms x reader #brahms the boy #brahms heelshire #brahms imagine #brahms heelshire imagine #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #gn reader #brahms heelshire x gn reader #slasher x you #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #Slasher

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channelinglament · 11 months

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Is it okay if I send this idea. Imagine yandere hsr hearing you singing love songs. Imagine you singing a song like call me maybe. The characters would think you are asking them for their number.

AHAHAHHAH THIS IS GOLD✨️✨️

Since no one specified characters, I'll chose randomly (I actually started spinning the wheel in google lmao-)

- this is a reaction, not a drabble like I attempted ;w;

@2broschlininahotub

Trailblazer(Caelus and Stelle)

(You can think of one or both, I referred as they/them because I wanted you to pick the one you're comfortable with, or both if u want to. I mean, they're the same person-...but I can't help but think of them as twins lmaooo)

╱|、

(˚ˎ 。7

|、˜〵

じしˍ,)ノ

^ this is them.

"Did our Aeon just started singing??"

- they would just stand there and listen

- until they understand this is a romance

- Are you proposing your love for them?🥹

..You're asking for their number?

...💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥 (this is Welt's credit card)

- You can get not only their number, but their(Welt's) money aswell!

- Also wdym by "You just met them"..?

- If they somehow manage to hack your phone (50/50 chance) then they'll 100% call you

...10000% call you if they manage actually..

They will not leave you alone afterwards tho..

You love them right?

Dan Heng

- ...

- * blushes and looks away *

- ૮ ˶ᵔ . ᵔ˶ ა

- Would definitely find a way to hack your phone and get your number. Though, probably, by this moment, you'll be at Herta's space station.

- would not question why did you start singing. Actually would ask you to sing more, he absolutely loves it.

..just don't sing it nearby others..

-2/10 would not recommend. Sing only to him. At least only romance songs (or around the trio)

March 7th

- Uwah!♡

- This is so cute!

- Ofcourse you can have her number!

- Would you like to take pictures with her?

- Maybe a date even?????

- *Furiously writes in her diary several pages about your "confession" for her*

/ᐢ⑅ᐢ\ ♡ ₊˚

꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ ♡‧₊˚ ♡

./づ~ :¨·.·¨: ₊˚

`·..·‘ ₊˚ ♡

Please sing it only to her.. just in general

She loves your voice, but

She can't chose, if she wants everyone to hear you, or if your voice should be only to her (or trio)

Silver Wolf

(Yes 2 gifs)

This two gifs is literally what she is doing after hearing what you just sang (while you're still singing-)

- Hacks your phone, takes your number and adds her.

- Even tho Herta froze her game accs...is willing to work with her and that robo-guy to bring you here.

- Doesn't wanna share with Herta and others..so would steal you afterwards

- Say hello to life with Kafka and Blade

- Until others find you..

Gepard

- *Blushing intensifies*

- He would turn into tomato

- His face would be redder than Riddle Rosehearts's hair

- Stutters

- Malfunctions

- But happy

- When you're here, would take you on a date. And give you his number almost immediately.

- Sadly cannot do anything before Herta, SW, Welt and others bring you here.

..He's so angry that he wanst the first one to see you, but at least you're here now

He understands that you need to communicate with others but..

Make sure to pay attention to him

___________________________________________

..Want me to make part 2?

..if yes then what characters? Or should I spin the wheel again?

https://spinthewheel.app/RJM6E2G5Di/link

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itsjusthockey · 5 months

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December - Adam Fantilli

Officially in Adam era. Enjoy

I miss him at Michigan

w.c: 1,923 (credit to gif maker)(don't steal my work)

You learned quickly that December is a lot colder without him here. All the Christmas lights seem a little less bright, the hot chocolate tastes a little more bland, and the joys of the season are still there, just slightly muted.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault. He was busy, so were you. College and hockey don’t stop, and the world will never cater to your relationship, no matter how much you wish it would sometimes. Instead, you both learned to figure it out. You FaceTime, call, and text as much as you can. Adam even suggested writing letters, but with his handwriting, you suggested something else.

You both send each other care packages, his typically filled with snacks you knew he’d love or books you insist he needs to read. Yours were always filled with new merchandise and one of his sweatshirts that still smelled like him. It is a good system, and you love how you make it work. But alas, Adam isn’t in Michigan, and you wish every night that he was.

A pound on your door jolts you out of your daze, and you check what time it is on your phone; it’s around 6:30, and you aren’t expecting anyone to your apartment. You’re confused when you look through the little peephole, but that all of a sudden disappears when your second favorite Fantilli is on the other side of the door. He’s not alone either, standing patiently with Rutger.

Each boy is clad in Michigan gear from head to toe, and Luca giggles about something when you open the door. The boys turn to you with the wildest smile that immediately makes you suspicious.

“What do I owe this pleasure?” You ask, narrowing your eyes a bit.

The boys dramatically roll their eyes, and Rutger places his hand on his heart in mock betrayal.

“Are we not allowed to visit our favorite person ever?”

You roll your eyes at Rutger and shift in the doorway, opening space for them. With bright smiles, they shuffle in, dropping their bags and immediately making themselves comfortable. So comfortable, in fact, Rutger opens your fridge and grabs out Capri Sun.

“I love this, don’t get me wrong, but why’re you here? I know you’ve both had a busy day.”

The pair grow quiet, and Rutger looks toward Luca to lead.

“Adam said you were a bit sad today.” Luca pipes up. “And we’re good at making you happy.

A small part of you feels terrible; it’s not their job to check on you, but most of you want to cry happy tears. You love these boys, and it means a lot that they still care about you, even when Adam is gone.

“So, we’re taking you out. No arguments, go change.” Rutger says, shooing you to your bedroom.

You give in because, of course, you do. It has been a bit of a rough day, and it didn’t help that your boyfriend has only texted you a few times today, telling you about how busy his weekend is going to be and he might not be around much.

You pull on some of Adam’s old Michigan gear, and within a few minutes, you’re walking out of your apartment with the boys. They don’t tell you where they’re taking you, but you just follow, content with being with your friends.

“She actually said that to her face?” Luca asks in disbelief.

You are telling the boys about some friend drama when you reach your destination. It’s a cute little pasta place close to campus, and It is one of your favorite spots. Adam took you here a lot in the last year, and you haven’t been able to go as often now that he’s been gone.

You smile as you follow Luca in, Rutger trailing behind you as you continue telling your story. Soon enough, you’re seated in a booth, food ordered, and you’re listening to them tell you about their own lives, hockey, and whatever the hell else.

You’re soaking up every minute with them, and you realize as you’re talking that you miss being around them. You miss the jokes, the laughs, the chaos, and you know that you have to get out of this little funk. They’re still your best friends, and you have to start seeing them more.

The pasta comes, and you dive in. It tastes like heaven, and you’re transported back to all the times you’ve eaten this meal with Adam. Your heart twinges slightly, but you shove the emotion down and continue laughing with the boys.

“So what’d you get A for Christmas?” Luce asks, mouth full of pasta. “Promise I won’t tell.”

You shrug your shoulders a bit. “A couple of little things. But I was thinking about visiting him, but I’m not sure he has time.”

You looked into it a bunch, but every weekend before Christmas was jam-packed in both of your schedules.

“You guys will figure it out.” Luca hums.

“Yeah, besides, he hasn’t seen you in a while, and I bet all he wants is to unwrap you like a pres-“

“Gross Rut,” Luca interrupts him, and you both laugh at his disgusted face.

The rest of the meal goes by, and at the end of it, you’re feeling much better about life. You’re super happy with this reunion, and you want it to continue, but Luca's phone buzzes on the table, and he gives Rutger a look.

“Ready to go?” Rutger asks, and you nod, heading back outside into the Michigan cold.

It’s a beautiful night, and when you step out, you see that light snow has started to fall. It looks picturesque as you stare at the snow and the decorations for the season. You feel your heart swell, then get slightly sad again, but you smile anyway.

“It’s perfect out.” You whisper to the pair, and they nod. “Are you guys going to come back up? Watch a movie or something?”

The pair share a quick look, and Rutger shakes his head.

“We can’t, we gotta head back.”

You’re a bit disappointed, but you don’t show it. They both have lives, and you can’t expect them to stay forever just because you’re a little lonely.

“All good, this was so nice. Thanks, you guys.”

Both the boys smile at you, and you walk back to your apartment. It’s still snowing, and when you reach the building, they stop at the entrance.

“Are you good to go back up yourself? My mom’s calling me.” Luca says quickly.

You nod your head, say a quick goodbye, and watch as the boys walk briskly away. You’re a bit confused, but you wave anyway as they speed off.

You make your way to the elevator, and you feel good as you climb the floors. You’re happy you got to spend time with some of your favorite boys, even if it was just for a while.

When you step out of the elevator and round the hall to your place, you smell a Christmas candle, and a wave of nostalgia hits you. It’s your favorite Christmas scent, and you almost want to cry. However, you don’t because as you come to your door, you realize the smell is wafting from your apartment.

You’re so completely lost, but when you unlock the door, everything falls into place.

There he is, standing in the center of your apartment wearing a cozy ugly Christmas sweater you’d bought him and smiling as though he’s the happiest man in the world.

You freeze, taking in the decorated apartment. You see a small little Christmas tree with a few presents, lights that line the space, and your favorite fucking candle lit on your dining table.

You drop your keys to the floor, and tears flow as he crosses the room to meet you. When he envelops you in his arms, you cry even harder, knowing that this is probably the happiest moment you’ve had in a long time.

“Hey baby,” Adam says into your hair. “Merry Christmas.”

You release him just enough to see his face. His beard has grown back, his eyes are a little glossy, too, and his smile is one of the brightest you’ve ever seen.

“Did you miss me?” He asks, wiping a tear from your face.

You pull back even further and give him a slight glare. “Yes, you asshole.”

You pull him back in, but this time, you pull him down slightly to meet his lips for the first time. In a simple moment, it’s like a world of color appears again before your closed eyes. Almost every thought in your brain is stripped out and replaced with him. He’s here. Really here. He’s here pressing his lips to yours and pulling you closer. He’s cupping your face, running his hand up and down your back and into your hair. He tastes familiar, and everything about him makes you feel complete. You finally feel whole again within his arms.

When you finally convince yourself to pull away, you meet his eyes again. You want to tell him you love him, but instead, your brain fails to string any thoughts together. So you simply pull him back to you and hope your kiss will show him those three words.

———————-

The night goes by slowly, and you couldn’t be more thankful. You spend hours talking, laughing, and staying cuddled on your couch. Only removing yourself when it gets late enough and you can barely keep your eyes open. You eventually make it to your bed, and everything is right as you lay against Adam’s chest, listening to his heart steadily beating.

“So Luca and Rut were your pawns?” You ask Adam, tracing little shapes on his chest.

He lets out a small laugh, and it's music to your ears.

“I mentioned I needed help surprising you, and the team had to draw names to see who would be the distraction.”

You smile at the thought and cuddle even closer to him.

“I missed you.” You say after a minute.

You grin as he pulls you impossibly closer and kisses you gently on the head.

“I know,” he says. “But this doesn’t last forever. It’s just tough right now.”

You nod, agreeing with him. Right now, it sucks, but soon enough, you’ll be done with school, and he’s already out there making a name for himself. You know he knows how proud you are of him, and you support his dreams, even if it means you have to spend a couple of years like this.

You have your own life and your own dreams to keep you busy. But even then, you crave being with one another, and a piece you is always missing when he isn’t around you. But you do it anyway. You love him, and it’s these little moments that remind you why you put yourself through the pain. When he’s with you, when you’re together, everything is aligned, and it's nothing but perfection.

Yeah, December might be much colder when he isn’t with you, but when he is, it’s like you’re on fire. The only feeling you have is endless warmth.

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 5 months

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First Kiss Since 1945 » Steve Rogers/Captain America

Pairings: Steve Rogers x SHIELD Agent!Reader with Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Y/N is Steve’s first kiss since 1945.

Warnings: Fluff, language, kissing, pet names (sweetheart, baby)

Written on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes or typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

“Wait a minute. So you’re telling me that the guy who you threw your shield at has a metal arm?” You say, walking next to Steve.

“Yes.” Steve says.

“That’s fucking cool.” You say.

You’re a new SHIELD Agent and you were just tagging along with Steve and Natasha. This is most you’ve talked to Steve since you started working for SHIELD.

“So what is it we’re doing again?” You asked.

“We’re trying to figure out what��s on this hard drive Fury gave me.” Steve says.

“Oh ok.” You say.

When the three of you walked into a computer store, Natasha took the hard drive from Steve and put it in the laptop to see what was on it.

“Is there anything I can help you folks with?” A employee asks.

“Uhh…” Steve says, trying to come up with an answer.

“Me and my fiancée asked our friend to help us look up honeymoon locations.” You say with a smile.

Steve smiles and wraps his arm around your waist to make it look believable.

“Congratulations! Where are you two thinking about going?” He asks.

“Uhh…” Steve takes a quick glance at the laptop screen. “New Jersey.” He answers.

“My family has a cabin there and we thought it would be nice to go somewhere quiet and peaceful. Isn’t that right, baby?” You say, looking up at Steve with a smile.

“That’s right, sweetheart.” Steve says.

“Well, I hope you guys enjoy your honeymoon. Let me know if you need anything.” The employee says before walking away.

You and Steve let out a breath that you guys didn’t even know you were holding. Steve’s arm left your waist and went back to his side.

“So you two are engaged and I’m helping you guys look for a honeymoon location?” Natasha says, teasingly.

“That was the first thing that came to my mind!” You say, slightly embarrassed.

Natasha chuckled and took the hard drive out of the laptop.

“Let’s go.” She says.

You guys walked out of the store and got on an escalator.

“Uh oh.” Natasha says.

“What?” Steve asks.

“HYDRA Agent.” She says, nodding her head towards the other side of the escalator.

You and Steve looked over and seen a HYDRA. Your guys’ eyes widened in panic.

“What do we do?” You asked.

“Kiss.” She says.

“What?” Steve says.

“Public Display of Affection makes people uncomfortable.” She says.

“I know that, but who’s kissing who?” You asked.

“We don’t have time for this.” Natasha says more to herself.

She put her hands on the back of yours and Steve’s heads and pushed your heads together to get you two to kiss. Both of you were caught by surprise. Steve placed his hands on your waist to make the kiss look real. Natasha ducked down, hiding on the side of you two. The HYDRA agent looked over to see you and Steve kissing and looked away.

“He’s gone. You guys can come up for air.” Natasha says.

You and Steve pulled away from each other, staring into each other’s eyes.

“Uhh Steve…” You say.

“Yes?” He says.

“Your hands.” You say.

“Oh right, sorry.” He says, taking his hands off of your waist.

The three of you walked in silence after you guys got off of the escalator and found a car.

“Doesn’t this count as stealing a car?” You asked, looking at Steve.

“We didn’t steal a car. We’re simply borrowing it.” Steve explains. “And get your feet off the dash.” He gently swats at your legs.

You giggled and took your feet off the dash.

“I’m sorry, but I have to ask. Was I your first kiss since 1945?” You asked.

“Yes.” He says, slightly embarrassed.

“What was it like to kiss Captain America?” Natasha asks, leaning in between the front seats.

“He’s a good kisser.” You say, looking back at her.

“You guys do know that I’m right here.” Steve says making you and Natasha giggle.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

-Bucky’s Doll

#captain steve rogers #captain rogers #steve rogers #captain america #chris evans #chris evans characters #the avengers #avengers #marvel #captain america the winter soldier #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers imagine #agent!reader

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cheriladycl01 · 1 month

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I think you're full of shit! Yuki Tsunoda x Artist! Reader

Plot: You get lost in Japan when your travelling to get inspo when a boy claims he drives really fast cars.

Credit to renrapp for the GIF

You were currently lost in Japan, you'd been on your way to an art gallery and studio when you'd taken one wrong turn and ended up in the middle of Tokyo.

You also didn't know enough Japanese to get you out of this situation and you didn't want to be that annoying tourist. So you set yourself up in a public park opposite a huge cherry blossom tree in full bloom that was hanging over the lake there.

Your easel was out facing the direction you intended to paint while all of your tools were rested in your little pop up desk to the side of the easel. You been painting for at least two hours now, only having captures the basics of the landscape.

You were getting hungry but knew you couldn't just leave the art here incase someone tried messing with it or stealing it. So you continued on, some people would come up and gasp when they saw what you were painting, the compliments in Japanese getting more and more common as your painting started to get to the final few steps until it would be done.

"Hello" a voice calls from behind you causing you to flinch a little, the English catching you off guard. Luckily your brushes were no-where near the canvas that had your art on.

"Oh!" you smile looking at the man that was standing behind you gazing from the art to the backdrop that you were using as your muse.

"That's really good!" he smiles stepping next to you, and you now notice that your a little taller than he is, however that was an uncommon thing in Japan with you being on the taller side of women.

"Thank you, I erm wasn't actually supposed to paint here but I'm really glad I did. It's a beautiful location" you admit looking around the other area of the part that the square of your canvas wasn't capturing.

"Where were you supposed to paint?" he asks.

"Erm, some gallery in Shinjuku, but I got lost and I ended up here. I didn't want to look like one of those annoying tourists!" you smile awkwardly.

"Well, I don't know about you still being able to paint in the studio but the gallery should still be open if you want me to take you there?" he offers and you eye him carefully.

"How do I know you aren't going to kidnap me?" you ask crossing your arms.

"I have a reputation that I would heavily damage if i did do that!" he jokes but see's that you still don't look convinced.

"I drive for a living, in really really fast cars" he offers to you, making you cock your head to the side. So he was on TV, and drove cars if he had a reputation.

"So like Top Gear?" you ask.

"Mmm not exactly more competitive than that" he laughs and you look over him again.

"I think your full of shit!" you laugh, not believing this kind and humble man has any ounce of fame behind him.

"Mmm, come find out!" he offers and you look at him like he's crazy.

"Sorry?" you laugh.

"I'm an F1 Driver, I'll get you tickets if your still here for the Grand Prix next week. It's my home race after all" he offers, of course you'd heard of the racing sport but you weren't ever one to pay much attention to it.

"Alright, you've got yourself a deal..." you press wondering his name.

"Yuki, my name's Yuki!" he smiles. You slowly start to pack up, having finished your painting when you were first talking to him.

"I need to take this all back to my hotel first, then can you take me to the gallery?" you ask, making sure all your paints were sealed so they wouldn't spill out into your shoulder bag.

"Sure, where are you staying?" he asks and you show him the address of the hotel on your phone, you both walk back through the streets of Tokyo him pointing out little things you'd missed in your time here. He brought up other places that he thought you'd like to paint and in seconds had you rambling about how you didn't just paint you just preferred to.

You'd got to the hotel in just a 30 minute walk and you placed all your stuff back in your room making sure the canvas wasn't near anything that would make it too hot and run. You grabbed your professional camera knowing having Yuki around he'd find some good places for you to get photos of the city.

In minutes you were back out on the busy streets of Tokyo Centre, as you were going across the Shibuya crossing Yuki grabbed your hand so you wouldn't get lost. With it being the late afternoon, all Japanese office workers were finishing their days up in the office and heading for their commute out of the city.

"It's very busy so you have to stay close!" he yells a little over the loudness of the crowd on the crossing.

"I know, I'm right here" you beam back, watching roughly where the end of the crossing was coming too. You could see the gallery at the end of the road Yuki was starting to head down and you could already tell it was going to be fantastic with the architecture from the outside.

"Oh woah, let me get a picture!" you exclaimed, the way the sun set down the street flickering off the building and the way it light up the graphic design on the back of Yuki's denim jacket.

"Oh sorry! I'm ruining your shot" Yuki says stepping to the side noticing you looking through your camera and kneeling down to get the perfect shot.

"No no stay back where you were facing away. You looked great!" you say looking at his bright smile through the camera making you snap an picture of him facing you and laughing.

"Are you sure your this super fast race car driver not a model?" you shout over to him as he starts to squat in a pose for you.

He comes over wanting to see the work done, the pictures he's been in.

"Woah, you have such an artistic eye." he smiles looking through the pictures you'd caught. Seeing how it made him look exactly like you said ... a model.

You continued to the gallery and walked around with Yuki, taking pictures and checking out the art.

"I really want to be in a gallery like this one day" you sigh looking at a particular group of paintings that had a similar style to yours.

"Mmmm i think you will. You really have an eye for all this!" he smiles.

"Thank you, really!" you smile.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #yuki tsunoda #yuki tsunoda x reader #yuki tsunoda imagine #yuki tsunoda x you #yuki tsunoda x y/n #yt22 #yt22 x reader #yuki tsunoda fluff

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