Bed Chem ━━━ Iwaizumi Hajime

bed chem ━━━ iwaizumi hajime

03. she’s an attention whore

# fun fact !

y/n is ready to throw hands with anybody she needs to

masterlist. previous | next

summary. when an unfortunate incident kicks you out of your university and risks your reputation as one of the top figures skater in the country, you find your place in sendai. but when you discover they only have one rink, designated to their a-league hockey team, your chance at a comeback slips from your grasp. your only in is with the captain of the hockey team. the issue with that? he couldn’t care less who you are.

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𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓓𝓲𝓪𝓻𝔂..

Pt2. Captain Rex x F!Reader x Fives What happens when two of the men you admire suddenly begin to show just how interested they are in you, days after your secret diary goes missing? Word Count: 3514 Warnings: Edited but most likely has some grammar mistakes, reader is scared of water. A/N: Ugh this took my poor little brain too long to write but it's here now and I'm very proud <33

The rhythmic buzzing of cicadas paired with the summer heat and sunbathing on the beach was the perfect situation to find yourself in. The negotiations had gone smoothly, and your squad was permitted a spontaneous shore leave.

Navy blue waves licked lazily at the sand; the water contrastingly cold to the desert-like temperatures of the beach. A cool breeze accompanied the waves, providing a semblance of comfort as it danced with tall, sparse strands of wild grass.

You were seated on a sunbed, just beneath the dark shadow of an umbrella, enjoying the distant echoes of laughter from your squad. It was extremely uncommon for them to enjoy anything but the popular bar, 79s, on their days off.

You had to bargain with the Jedi council for a solid half an hour before Master Windu had finally given you the nod of approval.

Now, Rex reaped the benefits of shore leave in the form of a nap in the sun. You had made sure to apply a kriff ton of sun cream onto his back and shoulders and neck before he had fallen asleep, a mumbled 'thank you' rolling off the tip of his tongue as his eyes became droopy.

He was severely sleep deprived; always being assigned to Skywalker's side rather than yours. It wasn't that he didn't like Master Skywalker, it's just his missions and plans were always reckless and exhausting, and they ended with a few too many casualties.

Of course, that was always inevitable, and Rex did his best not to linger on the fallen, but it didn't always come to him easily.

But with you, he could rest assured.

With you, he could relax under the warm sun, feel the burning sand, and enjoy the comfort of seaside waves.

His caring nature also ensured that everyone would be provided for whilst he was asleep. Bringing extra sun-cream, a cooler filled to the brim with water bottles and ice lollies, and extra towels as well as beach balls.

Where did he get the credits from?

Well, that was a code that nobody could decipher.

Nevertheless, there you were, relaxing with your beloved Captain. Fives had dragged most of the squad into the waves, insisting that they play volleyball. He had tried to take you too, but your reluctance and uncertainty deterred him.

He had waved you off with a 'Watch me, General' and a wink before he engaged in a series of games of clumsy water volleyball.

Since they'd undergone ARC Trooper training, it became more uncommon for Echo and Fives to join the 501st on longer campaigns.

Each time they were reunited, Fives would glance to Echo with a small smile. And now, he was busy wrestling with Hardcase in the shallow parts of the water, laughter escaping the two as Echo hit the ball into the air.

A series of hoorays and pats on the back erupted as the ball hit the water with a splash.

One score for Echo's team.

You were content with watching from the side lines, if you remained far from the water.

If you still had your diary on you, you'd probably busy yourself writing down the details of this day, so the memory could continue to live on long after the war was over.

But just a few days prior it went missing. You thought you misplaced it and ransacked your entire quarters for it. By the time Rex had knocked on your door, nothing was in its' correct spot. Crumpled bedsheets, swinging closet doors and a chair in the middle of the room as you had searched under your desk.

He wanted to question your panicked state, but as soon as the words 'Mission' and 'Jedi Council' were said, you had put a halt to your search mission.

Rex hadn't tried to ask since.

But now, forced to sit by idly, you were mesmerised by the beauty of none other than Fives himself. He was an ARC Trooper for a reason. His shoulders were broad, his waist slim and his thighs - thick and strong and defined from hours of battle and constant training. His tan skin was wet with salty sweat and even saltier water, and if one were to squint hard enough, they could see droplets running down the side of his neck.

You often found yourself feeling grateful to Jango Fett for having such fine genes.

As if reading your mind, Fives decided to stretch, and in the process flexed his biceps. How big were they?

Was it just you or did it get twenty degrees hotter?

His head slowly turned, and for a moment, you made eye contact. It was quick, but it was still enough to have your heart racing. A smirk stretched across his lips as he caught sight of your blooming blush.

The moment was cut short as Jesse splashed salty water right in his face. You didn't even get a chance to process the expression on his face, the water having wiped it away, as a surprised yelp escaped Fives.

His hand flew to his face, a guttural groan leaving his lips as he swore. His form was hunched over, his hand wiping at his eye.

Before you knew it, you were up and running towards the water, your sunbed abandoned and dusty in your wake.

"Fives?!"

His attention snapped to you at the sound of your voice.

A gasp left your lips.

His eye. The usually tawny skin surrounding his eye had now gained in darker colour, the area a faint red under the sunlight. Tiny, crimson vessels coated his sclera, reaching with thin, curly tendons towards his iris.

Just what was in that water? Surely it shouldn't be this bad.

Jesse was quick to utter apologies, his mouth cast into a downturned smile.

"Jesse it's fine," Fives insisted, "It's nothing." He continued, rubbing at his eye, the corners of his lips fighting an oncoming scowl. His attention quickly diverted from Jesse, focusing on you just as your feet reached the water.

Your body stuttered, your movements faltering as you glanced down at the waves.

Fives eyed you wearily, noticing the hesitation plastered all over your features.

But then in a flash, the water was already hitting your knees, lazily crashing against your waist as you progressed further. Goosebumps rose all over your body, visible under the blaring sun.

Your stomach twisted into a ball of thread, bile rising in your throat. You squeezed the water bottle and towel in your hands, then proceeded to raise your arms into the air like a cheering fan.

The water was now waist-deep, splashing against your torso and swaying your body back and forth.

Pieces of broken pebbles dug into the balls of your feet, and you had to supress the urge to scream when a floating piece of seaweed tickled at your ankles.

A small wheeze left your lips though, and as you reached Fives and looked up, you noticed the concerned expression on Jesse’s face. Was it for Fives or for you? You couldn’t quite tell.

"Let me see." You requested, placing your busy hands on top of Fives’ shoulders.

"General, I'm fine. It's just a bit of water." Fives winced as he attempted an eyeroll, his hands having wrapped around your wrists.

He failed to notice the brief flash of panic in your eyes or the tension in your jaw as the water splashed onto your chest.

"Just a bit of... Water?" You repeated, swallowing harshly. Tugging your hands from his hold, you looked back up at him. "You look like you’re on some hard spice, Trooper. We’ll get your eye rinsed; we don’t know just how safe the water is."

The men behind him had gone awfully quiet, Fives noted as he silently pleaded with you. His eyes searched yours, his head tilting just the slightest. He wasn't a fan of silence, at least not when it came from his squad mates. And he knew all to well that they were watching like hawks, supressing their laughter.

However, as you stood there looking up at him, he couldn’t help but allow his resolve to crumble just a tiny bit. Who could say no to those sweet puppy eyes? Maybe Echo. Most definitely not Fives.

"Alright, lead the way." He finally let up, heaving a sigh. His eye was stinging a bit too much and it’s not like he minded the extra attention from you.

A snicker left one of the men behind you, and Fives was quick to whip his head around, motioning for them to ‘zip it’.

"General?"

"Fives?" You pursed your lips as you looked up at him, though you didn't last long as your gaze faltered, focusing on your primary target, the sunbed. You wouldn’t be rinsing his eye on the sand; it was too hot, and it felt like walking on lava rocks.

“Is it that bad? Or did you just want me all for yourself?” He asked, nudging your side with his elbow.

Wordlessly, you pushed him onto your sunbed.

“Aggressive, I can work with that.”

“Shut it.” You laughed out, shaking your head.

By that point, Rex had slowly begun waking up, rubbing tiredly at his eyes.

A confused hum left his lips as he noticed the state of your clothes. They were wet. Soaking wet, in fact.

"General?" His voice was deeper than normal, more guttural as he was recovering from his nap. "Why are you...Wet?"

“No reason, Captain.” You shrugged your shoulders with a wink.

Rex looked to Fives, giving him a confused look. He sat up in his sunbed, crossing his legs and rubbing his face. “There’s a first time for everything, I guess.”

“First time? First time for what?”

“Oh? Didn’t you know? Our General- “

“Rex.” The way his name rolled off the tip of your tongue had shivers running down his spine. It carried authority and a warning, but the captain was feeling quite daring. His chest puffed up, his whole demeanour changing. This wasn’t your sweet Captain Rex, this was cheeky Cadet Rex, ready to tell the most embarrassing of stories to his brother.

He looked over to Fives, leaning back on his hands.

“Our General over here is terrified of water.” He mused, recalling a specific memory, “On one of our first missions together, we were sent to a swampy planet. The General had us all fooled at first,” He paused, snickering at the displeased expression on your face, “The second a frog swam by, she was screaming and jumping into my arms. Jesse almost blasted the poor thing to bits!”

“Rex!” You exclaimed, throwing the damp rug at him, “You promised not to tell anyone!”

Rex sputtered as the cloth hit him square in the face, launching it into the air in retaliation. “Fives isn’t just anyone! Am I right or am I right?”

Fives looked between the two of you, his brows raised in shock and his eye looking much better.

“General? I’m not just anyone, I’m your favourite ARC Trooper!” He shook his head, pressing a hand to his chest. “I can’t believe you!”

Before you could deny his words or assure him, Rex was already stood by you.

“See General? You hurt his feelings.”

“N- No I didn’t! Fives you are my favourite, just don’t tell anyone, alright?” You pleaded, attempting your best puppy eyes yet. Your attempts faltered as he shook his head, feigning a hurt look.

“I’m not sure, General. You’ll have to make it up to me somehow,” He paused, exchanging mysterious looks with Rex.

“How can I make it up to you?”

“Oh I don’t know.. I’ll have to get back to you on that.” He retorted, pouting at you. Sometimes you forgot just how childish the man could be. You clutched the empty water bottle in your hand, readying it as your next weapon for Rex.

Turning towards him, a fake scowl twisted your expression.

“Don’t look at me like that, General, it’s a waste of a pretty face.” He quickly said, shielding his face as you raised the water bottle. Before it could leave your hands voluntarily though, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist.

“H- Huh?” A gasp left your lips as your body was swiftly rotated and slung over Fives’ shoulder like a sack of rations. That man really harboured more strength in those biceps than you knew. “Fives? What are you doing?”

“I’m having you repay me! Starting now!” He exclaimed and began moving. Rex moved to his side, keeping in step with Fives. Your eyes widened as the sunbed slowly moved further and further, becoming a distant promise of safety and comfort as salty waves made contact with Fives’ feet.

“Fives! L- Let me go! Please!” Your voice was reaching new peaks, rising higher and higher as you began kicking your legs. “I- I can’t swim!” You continued, lightly hitting his back.

His steps began to slow. You held your breath, leaning your head as far from the water as possible.

“You can’t swim? Are you serious or are you bullshitting me, General?” He asked, looking towards Rex, who only gave him a shrug of his shoulders.

“I promise! Please, please, please don’t go any further.” You pleaded once more, looking over to Rex too. Your hands were clasped together, as if you were praying to the two men. He exchanged glances with Fives, wordlessly communicating.

Rex looked over to you, pursing his lips.

“What’s holding y’guys up?” Hardcase shouted, coming closer and closer. “And since when did the General go into water that isn’t a part of her refresher?” He asked, coming to a stop with the three of you.

“Hardcase! You know I can’t swim! Help me, please!” You began kicking your feet again, leaning your head to the side. Your hands pushed against Fives’ back, attempting to heave yourself off.

His grip on you only tightened, and a squeak was forced from your chest as his palm squeezed your thigh.

“The General is a worse swimmer than me! At her level she isn’t even a swimmer, she’s a sinker!” He exclaimed, pointing to himself, Fives’ shoulders shook as a small laugh escaped him. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, setting your skin aflame.

“Fine, I’ll let you go, but only ‘cause I trust Hardcase.” His voice was gruff as he lifted your body, slowly placing you in the water. Goosebumps attacked your skin once more, but this time from the chilling cold that encased you. Looking up, Fives wore a grin that challenged that of the cheshire cat. “You should see yourself, General. You look like an angry loth cat.” He said, pinching your cheek with one hand as the other rested on your waist, his hold firm but gentle, his thumb caressing your waist in small, centred circles.

Swatting his hand away, you looked back down to the water. It rested just below your hips but would venture higher up as the waves moved back and forth.

“D’you wanna go further?” Fives asked, his voice much closer now. Looking around, you noticed that Rex and the others had moved further into the water, where it now reached their chests.

Shaking your head, you turned back to Fives. “I can’t swim, plus I don’t have the same height advantage as you,” You paused, pointing to the others, “I’d be under water where they are now.”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, crows’ feet tugging at the outer corners of his eyes. Your hands rose to his chest, steadying yourself as a rogue wave lifted your feet off the ground.

“C’mon, you can sit on my shoulders? I’m sure the others would be more than happy to have you around.” He asked, giving your waist a faint squeeze.

You took a moment to think over his proposition. Sure, being on his shoulders would mean you get to, mostly, stay out of the water. But what if you fell off? You cringed at the thought of water invading your nose, burning your windpipe and choking you from the inside out.

“I- I don’t know…” You paused.

Slowly, you looked up, your breath hitching in your throat. He was already watching you, admiring the tiny expressions you made as you watched his brothers. There was this smitten look resting across his face, as if you were the prettiest little thing he’s ever seen.

His face was so close, his body slightly brushing against your own. His scent invaded your senses, so much so you could almost taste it on the tip of your tongue.

The sunlight reflected in his eyes, outlining the different shapes and shades as if you were looking into a kaleidoscope. His irises had this gorgeous colour of warm honey, and they sparkled like a pair of amber crystals under the soft sunrays.

His skin glowed under the warmth, the rich olive colour becoming tanner the longer he sat outside of his armour, making Fives look healthier and happier. All of the men, in fact. Though their armour kept them safe and sound, you couldn’t help but marvel at the sight of them. They were in their zone.

Fives’ hand moved up to your face, his eyes concentrated on a stray piece of hair. The soft smile kept playing at his lips, never fully going but never fully staying.

There was a tension in his jaw, however, as his fingers toyed with your hair. It was like he was holding something back.

He moved the strand away, gently tucking it behind your ear, as best as it would go anyway.

“You’re gorgeous, cyar’ika.” His words came out as a whispered prayer, his gaze so tender and loving as he caressed your cheek with his knuckles.

It was as if your brain short-circuited again; his words dropped on you like a heavy boulder, so sudden, and yet your heartbeat was now racing a thousand miles per hour. Your breath was caught in your throat, and your mouth suddenly felt dry. Was this normal? Were you panicking or were you blushing? Were you going crazy? What was happening?

“F- Fives…” You whispered, your grip on his chest tightening. You never expected those words to come from him, or anyone at all. They weren’t meant for you. But if so, why did they make you so happy? So ecstatic and why did he make you swoon so hard?

He leaned his face a tad closer, just enough for you to feel his breath fanning over your lips.

You could feel his warmth, it was comparable to the sun itself. It rode in your veins, it had your blood bubbling up in excitement the longer he looked at you. You were just a small planet orbiting his sun, being pulled in closer and closer until all you could feel was the heat and the burn of him.

His tongue darted out to lick at his bottom lip, ridding it of dryness and discomfort.

But that small action had you going wild, feral even.

In that split moment, your gaze flickered to his lips. For a man who spent the majority of his life on a battlefield, his lips sure looked plump and made just for kissing.

It was like you were gravitating towards him, like a comet curve-balling around his planet, entangling around his soul and burning brightly at each twist and pull. His hold on you had your legs melting, as if you were nothing but a shard of ice, being thawed away at by his warm touch and sweetly whispered nothings.

His hand tilted your jaw, just enough for your lips to rest an inch from his. Any closer, and you’d be kissing, melting into one another.

Before either of you could do more, say more, the distant voice of Hardcase called out to you.

“Are you two comin’ or what?!” He shouted, cupping his mouth with both hands.

You jolted in your spot, effectively snapping out of whatever spell the man before you had cast on you. Clearly, he had been put under a spell too as his hands retracted and his posture stiffened.

“We’re on our way!” He shouted back, waving Hardcase off. His attention quickly returned to you, but the spell was now gone.

A lump formed in your throat, and you swallowed it down with struggle.

Uncertainty and fear tugged at your heartstrings, and Fives knew exactly what that meant.

“G- General-“

“I need to go.” Your voice was meek and shallow as you retracted from his touch, as if he left your skin with painful burns and sears wherever his fingertips touched. “Alone.” You continued, placing a hesitant palm on his chest as Fives attempted to follow you.

This couldn’t be happening.

With your back turned to him and your figure disappearing into the distance, Fives couldn’t help but curse under his breath. His lips slightly agape, he stood in the same spot you left him in just moments ago.

How could he have ruined everything in such a short amount of time?

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snoowply

5 months ago

sorry, wrong number! — tanaka ryuunosuke. chapter three; crazy crazy.

content ; smau. profanity. reader being a LIGHT stalker. dirty jokes. school rivalry coming into play. kenma & hinata friendship mentioned. ennoshita struggling with history class.

< previous ; masterlist ; next >

Sorry, Wrong Number! — Tanaka Ryuunosuke. Chapter Three; Crazy Crazy.

taglist ; @sahrii @kameyyy @cherrysurf @standcom @44twentytwo @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @mayyhaps @mimi3lover @evilari111 @s6rine @taefanclub @3stela @heartmaddie @suvakrpa @autlantic @jayathelostdragon @sickpatientt @strawbbrysworld @le000xxgrd @gumims

172 notes View Post

snoowply

4 months ago

YOU HAVE A PLUSH OF THEM | SMAU

ೃ⁀➷ tsukishima, bokuto, oikawa, hinata, kuroo

2K notes View Post

snoowply

6 months ago

Last Man Standing

Summary: You make a bet with Daryl.

Pairing: S9! Daryl Dixon x F! Reader

WC: 2.1k

Warnings: pwp, smut: fingering, masturbation, public sex? Not really but they’re in someone’s house, pet names (baby, pretty girl, darlin’), kissing, gripping back of throat, panty sniffing, pinv, quickie, mdni, if I missed anything let me know not proofread

Notes: this was requested by @wishyouloveme. I am so so so sorry it’s taken me so long. Writers block and real life troubles are a bitch. Thank you for your patience, and although I know this isn’t my best work, I hope you enjoy.

When you first met Daryl Dixon, the rugged archer of Rick Grimes’ group, you had been face to face with a walker who was just looking to eat your face. One shot of a piercing arrow through the back of the skull, and Daryl had single handedly saved your life. As repayment, you invited him and his group to join your home — Alexandria.

Since then, you’ve stuck to him like glue.

The Grimes’ group settled in nicely at Alexandria, and it wasn’t long before you struck up a relationship with Daryl.

That had been six months ago, and the two of you were still in what the other towns folk called “the honeymoon phase”. PDA was high, fights were extremely low.

Currently, the two of you are cuddling in your shared bed, when you ask, “Wanna make a bet?”.

You watch as Daryl turns towards you, questions brimming in his blue eyes.

“Wha’ kinda bet?” He grumbles, his voice raspy. Your thighs clench at his voice, heart racing with what you’re about to propose.

“The naughty kind. If you can go a… week,” you begin. “Without touching me — no holding hands, kissing, or having sex.”

Daryl huffs, “What?”

You swallow thick saliva coating your tongue, rubbing your palms on your jeans. Daryl’s staring at you with such intensity.

“You heard me. If you can go a week, we can do that thing you want to try.”

The thing, being a position Daryl wanted to try that you weren’t too sure about. It had seemed too complicated when he explained, but the more you thought about it, the more the idea had excited you. Thus, it was the perfect reward if he could win the bet.

“And if I lose?”

You think for a moment, not really sure. The bet was honestly just a way to see how long he could go without you. So you decide on something easy.

“I get to be on top, next time! It’s been ages.”

Daryl doesn’t hate — far from it, with the way you leave him a whimpering mess — when you’re the dominant one in bed, but he does prefer to be in control.

Daryl grunts, “Don’ really know why ya wanna do this, but yer on.”

You grin; Daryl can never resist a ‘challenge’.

You wake up, curling on your side and reaching to grab Daryl. Only, your hand meets thin air and a cold mattress. Your eyes snap open, and for a minute you panic.

Where is he? Why is he not with you?

But then you remember; the bet. Last night Daryl slept on the couch, and he’ll continue to do so until your challenge is over with.

You press your palms to your eyes, breathing in the stale air. Right at this moment, you wish you hadn’t even made the bet.

Getting up, you don’t bother with dressing in your work (which are really just a tee shirt and jeans) clothes before you’re rushing downstairs. You breathe a sigh of relief when you see him sprawled on the couch.

“Daryl?” You call, voice soft, but it still makes him jolt awake. Ever since you’ve known him, he’s been a very light sleeper. You kind of have to, to survive an apocalypse.

His eyes are blurry before they focus on you, and he grunts his acknowledgment.

“Ya?”

“I missed you,” you say, eyes roaming his form.

He never wears a shirt to bed, and you can see his muscles and the dark dusting of hair on his pecs leading down to his happy trail. Your tongue flicks out to run along your bottom lip.

Daryl’s eyes narrow, “I know what yer doin’.”

“An’ what’s that?” You say, watching as he gets up from the couch and slowly stalks over to you, his eyes heavy lidded. He leans towards you, but never actually touches you.

“Tryna seduce me. Ain’t gon’ work, though.”

And with that, he leans away from you with a smirk.

Well played.

On the second day, it went much like the first. You tried to tempt Daryl, but he was still holding strong.

And you? You were fucking miserable. So pent up with need for your boyfriend, that it was driving you mad. Your cunt was aching, and all you wanted was to jump Daryl’s bones. Why did you think this bet was a good idea?

It’s not until the third day that Daryl breaks.

You’re both at a party hosted by Michonne to celebrate Rick coming back. Truly, it was something to celebrate. And while Daryl was trying to pay attention as Rick retold the years of his service in the CRM, it was hard when you looked good enough to eat. You’re wearing one of the only good dresses you have. The color is beautiful, making your skin pop.

Similarly, you can’t stop staring at Daryl. He looks good. He always does, but there’s something about him right now that’s setting your heart aflame with desire. Maybe it’s the fact that his eyes are dark with lust, or maybe it’s the way his bottom lip is subtly tucked between his teeth. Either way, when he looks you up and down slowly, eyes staying locked on your legs longer than they should have, you can’t take it anymore and excuse yourself to the bathroom.

The house has two bathrooms — one on the main floor, small and near where everyone’s gathered, and one on the second floor. The second floor bathroom is tucked away, and there shouldn’t be anyone going up there. You decide on that one, taking the steps slowly and ignoring the way that every walk makes your thighs press against your throbbing nethers.

The bathroom is clean, and in your lustful haze you forget to lock the door behind you. You lean against the countertop, and your hands trail up and down your body. You want to take your time, you’re so pent up, but you know you can’t. Your fingers trail lower and lower, under your dress and then up, up until they reach your panties.

Your fingertip presses against the wet fabric, right where your slit is. You shiver at the contact, and tip your head back against the mirror while pulling your underwear to the side.

Just as you slide one of your fingers into yourself, a cough rings out.

You whip your hand out from under you and snap your eyes open, face burning in embarrassment. But it’s only Daryl. And if his tented pants are anything to go by, he liked what he saw.

“Don’ stop on my account, baby,” he says, voice thick and heady with desire.

You swallow a thick glob of saliva, and narrow your eyes at him.

“Why don’t you come over here and help?”

Daryl raises an eyebrow, and turns to lock the door before he crosses his arms and leans against the frame.

“Can’ do tha’, don’t wanna lose the bet,” he replies. You huff, but shimmy off your drenched panties. Once they’re off, you throw them at Daryl, who quickly catches them with one hand. He brings them to his nose, and with eyes on you, sniffs them languidly. Your eyes flutter at the sight, and that’s all it takes for you to hike your dress above your hips so he can get a good view of you.

“Fuck, darlin’, can see how wet ya are,” he mumbles, the crotch of your panties still held to his face. A pit of desire continues to bubble within your lower abdomen, and you thrust a finger within the depths of your cunt. Your back arches, a quiet moan falling from your lips.

When you open your eyes, you lock onto Daryl’s erection. It’s straining against the stained denim of his jeans, and his hand is palming it through the material. You lick your lips, eyes watching his every move.

“Like what ya see?” He says, voice gravelly in a way that makes your cunt clench tighter against your finger, arousal dripping out.

“You know I — shit — do,” you moan when your finger curls against that soft spot within you, and you quickly slide a second in.

You whine as you press your thumb against your clit, rubbing in small firm circles. That ball ignores further, hotter and hotter until you can’t take it. Sweat dribbles from your neck down to the valley of your breasts, and you spread your fingers inside you to give Daryl a better view. You can hear the way his breath hitches, and you smirk.

“Please, touch me. Can’t take it, ‘m so close,” you whine, and you know you have him hook, line and sinker when he swallows thickly and takes a small step forward.

“Ta hell with the damn bet,” he grumbles.

He drops your underwear, and unzips himself to take his thick cock in hand when he stands in front of you. The sight leaves you breathless, as it always does when you see his dick. It’s thick, long, and has a perfectly rounded head that you love to have between your lips.

You look up at him, slipping your fingers out from you, mourning the loss. But Daryl is quick to replace them with his own, the stretch of his thicker fingers inside a delicious burn. You whimper, arching into him. Your stiff nipples rub against his shirt. His cock is hot against your skin, the precum leaking onto your tummy. With his other hand, he pushes the hair away from your neck, before wrapping his hand around the back of you. Daryl’s grip on your neck is light but firm enough to cause your toes to curl in pleasure. Your eyes stare into his, and he shakes his head before leaning down to crush a bruising kiss to your lips. You immediately moan into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing closer.

The kiss is hypnotizing, taking your pleasure to the next level. His tongue clashes with yours, teeth scraping and bruising. You love it. You can taste the desperation on his lips, and you match with your own fierceness. It’s been too long, even if it has only been three days.

You break away from him, only to let out a reedy moan when he curls his fingers and rubs your clit, the dam of pleasure so close to breaking.

“Ya like that, pretty girl?” He whispers, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. You nod, sucking in a shaky breath.

“Gon’ cum fer me?”

You nod again. Your voice is lost, it seems.

Daryl tsks, clicking his tongue.

“Know you can use yer words, darlin’,” he mocks, crooking his finger just right. He presses his hips closer to you, cock pressing harsher into your stomach.

“Y-yes, fuck, fuck! Jus’ like that,” you cry, hands circled around his shirt. Your hips thrust minutely to meet his fingers, and when Daryl grins and leans down to lick your neck before biting down hard, the dam finally breaks.

“Jesus fucking ch-,” you whimper out, pussy clenching so tightly around Daryl’s fingers you think they’ll break.

He doesn’t give you a break before he’s removing his fingers and propping you up on the counter, before he slides his cock inside. Your orgasm hasn’t even resided before he’s thrusting in and out, pushing your arousal back inside. The intrusion is bearable with how wet you are, but he’s so thick you can feel him everywhere. With each thrust, he hits that spot within you that’s making you dizzy.

“Fuck, baby, missed this. This pussy is jus’ fer me, ya?” He asks, but you don’t answer. Too fucked out. All you can do is pant and whine with each movement, and when he adds his finger to rub your clit, it’s over. You’re coming again, back arching off the counter and letting out what would have been a loud moan, had Daryl not pressed his palm to your mouth. With his other hand, he uses it to steady you, resting it on your hip. He keeps thrusting, but you can tell he’s close with how erratic his movements are.

“‘S too much, Daryl,” you say, voice muffled. Tears spring to your eyes. You’re in so much pleasure that you think you could ascend to Heaven.

“You can take it, can’t ya? ‘M close,” he responds, stopping for only a minute to raise both your legs around his hips, before jackrabbiting back into you. At this angle, your lower back is digging into the faucet of the sink, but you can’t find it in you to care.

Daryl leans down and captures your mouth with his, and he thrusts once, twice, before spilling his hot spend inside you.

You gasp when he pulls away, chest heaving. Daryl isn’t faring much better. He’s sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead.

You giggle, reaching up to swipe the hair away from his eyes. He smiles down at you, slowly sliding out. You both watch as your mixed arousal leaks out.

“Guess you couldn’t go longer than a week, huh?”

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snoowply

5 months ago

Ah yes Suna flash us 😩

Credits to Loonzy Z

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snoowply

1 year ago

this is fire yo ❤️❤️❤️

🏹🩷🫦🔥

"bad" girl | carlos sainz

synopsis: in which you can't catch a break from the criticism

a/n: based on this request! i based this when Charles and Carlos were still teammates in Ferrari

pairing: carlos sainz x leclerc!reader

my masterlist

The Monaco sun bore down on the paddock, its golden glow making everything seem brighter—everything except the storm brewing inside you.

It wasn’t the first time you had been caught between your brother and your boyfriend, and knowing the way the media twisted narratives, it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

"She's in Carlos' garage again?"

"Guess we know where her loyalty lies"

"Poor Charles. His own sister doesn’t even support him"

The whispers never stopped. No matter what you did, someone had an opinion about it. If you were seen with Carlos, you were a bad sister. If you were supporting Charles, you were a neglectful girlfriend.

There was no winning with them.

But today, after months of keeping quiet, you had had enough.

♡♡♡♡♡

The weekend had started out promising. Monaco was home for both you and Charles, and it was always a special kind of race. One where your family was present, where old childhood memories resurfaced as you walked the familiar streets.

You had been excited, looking forward to seeing both Charles and Carlos fight for the top spots in qualifying.

That excitement, however, had quickly soured when you saw the headlines flooding social media.

BREAKING: Charles Leclerc’s sister chooses sides: Spotted in Sainz’s garage instead of her brother’s.

Your grip tightened around your phone as you stared at the article. They made it sound like you were betraying Charles just by standing next to Carlos before his qualifying session.

Never mind the fact that you had been in Charles’ garage just thirty minutes earlier.

Never mind the fact that you loved both of them in completely different ways.

Carlos had seen the article, too. He could always read your mood, even when you tried to mask it. When you arrived at his motorhome later that evening, his first words weren’t hello but instead a soft, “You’re upset”

You sighed, flopping down on the couch.

“I don’t get it. How is it that no matter where I stand, I’m always wrong?”

Carlos sat down beside you, his hand immediately finding yours.

“They don’t know you,” he said simply. “They only know the stories they want to write.”

His words made sense, but they didn’t make the situation any less frustrating.

You were tired of walking a tightrope, tired of constantly having to prove your love for both your brother and your boyfriend.

“I don’t even want to check Twitter,” you muttered, resting your head against Carlos’ shoulder.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Then don’t” he whispered.

You wished it were that easy.

♡♡♡♡♡

Race day was no better.

You had split your time between both garages as you always did. Before the race started, you had been by Charles’ side, giving him your usual pre-race pep talk, something you had done for years.

The cameras had captured the moment perfectly — the way Charles smiled at you, the way you squeezed his hand just before he climbed into the car.

But then, once the race started, you had shifted to Carlos' garage. It was an unspoken agreement between you and Charles that you would support Carlos during the race.

Charles had Joris, his mom, and the entire Ferrari team backing him up. Carlos, while also surrounded by his own support system, had you. And you knew how much it meant to him.

The moment you stepped into Carlos’ side of the garage, you could already hear the murmurs.

“She was just with Charles.”

“She really can’t decide, can she?”

“Maybe she should’ve dated someone from another team.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to block out the noise.

It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

You watched the race unfold, fingers gripping the edge of your seat as both Charles and Carlos fought hard on track. Every overtake, every pit stop, every strategy decision had you on edge.

You just wanted them both to succeed. Was that really so wrong?

When the checkered flag waved, Charles had finished P3, Carlos P5. A bittersweet result.

As soon as you made your way to parc fermé, you congratulated Charles first, wrapping your arms around him. He hugged you back tightly, murmuring a soft "Merci" against your ear.

And then you moved to Carlos, giving him the same love and support.

The cameras caught it all.

By the time you reached your phone again, social media was already on fire.

Does she not realize how bad this looks?

She barely even celebrated with Charles before running to Carlos.

I feel so bad for Charles. Imagine your own sister prioritizing your teammate over you.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, itching to reply. To defend yourself. But you knew it wouldn’t change anything. They had already made up their minds about you.

Carlos must have noticed the way your face fell, because he gently plucked your phone from your hands and locked it.

“Enough of that,” he said, voice firm but gentle. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

You hesitated, your eyes darting to your brother's side of the garage.

“But Charles—”

“—is fine,” Carlos assured you. “I’m sure he’ll be the first one to tell you to ignore all this bullshit.”

And he was right.

Later that night, as you sat on Charles’ balcony overlooking the city, your brother nudged your shoulder.

“I saw the things people were saying,” he said. “It’s stupid.”

You sighed, your shoulders slumping.

“I just hate that they make it seem like I have to choose between you and Carlos.”

Charles frowned, shaking his head at you.

“You don’t. And you never have to. We both know where your heart is.”

You blinked, looking at him. “You do?”

He nodded. “Yes. And if they can’t see that, then they’re not worth your time.”

A lump formed in your throat, as you tried to keep yourself from crying.

“I just don’t want you to ever feel like I don’t support you.”

Charles gave you a small, reassuring smile.

“I’ve never doubted you, chérie. Not once.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but before they could fall, Charles pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly.

Carlos found you both a few moments later, pausing in the doorway.

“Can I join?”

Charles rolled his eyes but opened an arm, letting Carlos pull you into his chest.

And for the first time that weekend, the noise of the outside world faded away.

You weren’t just Carlos’ girlfriend.

You weren’t just Charles’ sister.

You were you—someone who loved them both with all her heart.

And that was enough.

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snoowply

4 months ago

press start! — bonus #2

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a/n: ahhh icb press start is already over 🤧 thank you all to everyone who read this series and to everyone who took time to send such sweet messages 🫶

a/n 2: also yes this is 100% self indulgent for my love for kuroo tetsurou

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