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#( so yeah might need to do that but I’ll know for sure in a week )
farfromharry · 1 day
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Summary: Lando finally wins a race and learns all he needed was a good luck charm
Lando Norris x Reader
w/c 933
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It had been a long and tiring journey for Lando in regards to getting his first race win. 5 years in Formula 1, almost 700 points and 15 podiums and he thought it was never going to happen— at least not if Max Verstappen had anything to say about. And then came along you.
At first you were nothing more than a friend of a friend, someone who had suddenly started appearing at group hang outs, who maybe caught his eye once or twice, purely for the fact you were an unfamiliar face. Suddenly you were everything.
It was a party for someone’s birthday when you spoke for the first time. He had come to the bar for another drink, only to be completely ignored by the bartender in favour of some pretty girls down the other end of the bar. You appeared a few moments later, grinning at the racing driver’s clear annoyance. You tapped his shoulder gently to grab his attention, “Watch this.”
All you’d said was excuse me, which he had already tried, and the man came running. You ordered your own drink and urged Lando to do the same. From that point on he was in complete awe of you. It was such a simple action and yet he thought you were completely fascinating. He had found himself so speechless that he didn’t even say anything to stop you from walking away afterwards. Only then did he realise he’d gotten a free drink too.
It felt like the next few weeks of his life were consumed by thoughts of you, until he finally bucked up the courage to start asking around. It all felt pointless until he saw you again at a party he’d thrown in the hopes you would show up. And you did. It seemed his plan was off to a good start.
He tried not to make it obvious that he was looking at you, or for you. He didn’t want to creep you out. In the end it was you that approached him, which took a lot of the fear out of the situation. No longer did he have to find the courage to go up to you— which he was really struggling with.
“I heard you’ve been asking about me?”
His cheeks burned pink. “I, um… yeah, I—“
You laughed. The sound was music to his ears. “It’s okay. I’m honoured, really. A world famous racing driver is interested in me?”
His eyebrows raised. “You know who I am?” The first time you’d properly met you made no indication of such, so he’d just assumed you didn’t know.
“I might have done my own research,” you shrugged. Not a single part of you seemed embarrassed about it though, not like he had. You were owning up to it, you were outwardly telling him he interested you.
And he knew in that very moment, he was completely hooked.
The first race you attended, not only of the year but ever, was the Miami Grand Prix. Lando insisted it was a good atmosphere, unlike a select few that weren’t always the greatest. It was also warm and there were places he could take you after that he thought you would like. You had no hesitations. All you wanted was to see your boyfriend succeed. You didn’t know all that much about the world of motorsport, but you knew Lando hadn’t won before and seeing it in person would surely be something special.
But he had his doubts. He had qualified 2nd, beside Max, for what felt like the thousandth time. He knew exactly how this would play out. But you didn’t feel like letting him get in his head.
“You’re going to win. You’re such a good driver, Lando. Believe in yourself.” He wished he could have taken your words seriously, but he didn’t have it in him to do so. He had already spent 2 years doing his very best just to get stuck behind the world champ anyway. His hope was burning out the more it happened, it was almost ashes at this point. But even if his hope did disappear, you were there to believe in him on his behalf. It was refreshing to have someone think he could win for once.
“I’ll try.”
You frowned. “If you won’t try for you, try for me?”
Apparently that was all the motivation he didn’t realise he needed. He was going to go out there and win it for you. He couldn’t let the first ever race you attended be one that was forgettable.
And when he crossed the line in P1? Everybody went wild.
While waiting for him to get out of the car, you were almost lost in the sea of papaya surrounding the barriers, but there was no way he would let that happen. He threw himself at his team first and as soon as he pulled off his helmet he was throwing his arms around you.
“You did it! You’re a race winner!” you cheered.
“I’m a race winner!” It felt so good to say. He couldn’t stop grinning. “You must be my good luck charm. Gonna have to come to all my races now.”
Your expression was a mirror of his. “If this is how you’re going to perform at every one, count me in.”
So it had taken him 5 years and a whole lot of time, effort and emotion to get him to that top step of the podium, when all along he had been waiting for the final piece of the puzzle to make it happen; you.
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alagaisia · 10 months
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I’m reminded of that post about how goths and people who wear only lots of pink are actually the same because “wearing only one color” is a specific choice in opposition to just looking Normal
I’m flying to a friend’s wedding today, and I recently acquired from my neighborhood free page a very pretty vintage suitcase in like a brocade upholstery texture in all of my good colors, so of course I needed a coordinated airport outfit à la Midge Maisel. You guys don’t know me, but I usually dress very put together, in what my sister calls Outfits, with a capital O to distinguish it from just wearing clothes. And since getting a full time job I’ve been slowly adding to my collection of vintage and 50’s-vibes clothes, because I just really like that aesthetic (my bridesmaid dress for the wedding is a vintage tea dress I got from Etsy. The fabric is in great condition but I had to reinforce pretty much every seam with my sewing machine, because the structural integrity of the original thread was breaking down, so that was an interesting learning experience).
All of which is to say that I Dressed Up for the airport in a vintage-y outfit that coordinates perfectly with some of the colors of my suitcase, and my hair is curled, and I have a vintage leather purse that my grandma gave me that matches her watch that I’m wearing and the shoes she bought me last summer at the same vintage store that my skirt came from, and a teenage-ish girl with whatever you call the 2023 teenage equivalent of emo/punk vibes, like the dark maroon mullet and not a lot of makeup and dark comfy clothes but like, very on purpose, told me I look cool when I walked past on the way to security
And like, she Gets It! We have different fashion goals but I think we put a similar degree of intention into the way we look compared to just wearing regular clothes. Which is cool! It’s validating. Not that I really need validation, but it’s always nice to get compliments, of course. And the way I dress is really not terribly distinctive most of the time, other than being Outfits and a little dressier than maybe the norm is, like I think most people who see me one time in passing would see that I look Nice but not necessarily see it as a cultivated Look. But punk mullet girl gets it.
#struggled with not sounding *too* pretentious here#I don’t feel pretentious but I have a hard time talking about like. specific choices and things in any detail#like to my friends I just said what happened with a picture of my outfit and was like ‘and she gets it!’ and they were like ‘yeah!’#but to strangers I have to go into much more detail to get the point across#even though really it’s not like I’m putting all of that into it every day I just get up and go ‘i want to look nice today’#in accordance with my personal fashion preferences#and then having to explain those preferences like ‘my name is alagaisia midge maisel darkness way and I’m wearing vintage whatever’#i do look so cute though#i got these shoes last summer and then lost the heel cap off of one of them the very first time i wore them#finally took them in to have them fixed last week so I could wear them to the wedding#needed a deadline so that I would actually get around to it#i hate flying it’s really a testament of how much I love my friend that I’m flying#instead of driving ten hours to Nebraska#but it made more sense and to make sure i won’t be late or run into car trouble or anything#and I’ll stay looking nice right away instead of getting gross and sweaty in the car or having to change for bachelorette activities#i only know the bride so I’m definitely going to make a very specific impression on all of these strangers lol#i joked with my dad about adopting a trans Atlantic accent for the whole weekend just for shits and giggles#turns out you cannot do it over the top. have you ever listened to JFK’s ‘we choose to go to the moon’ speech#it’s very silly sounding#we had a good time saying things one might say at a bachelorette party in a goofy voice#‘we cho~ose to ohdah thihs maiule strippah… ahnd the othah things.. nawt becahse it is easyh..#but becawhse he is hahd’#highly recommend#mine#personal
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zappedbyzabka · 7 months
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Ignore everything I said last night ty.
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lewisvinga · 1 month
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both of them | charles leclerc x fem! reader x alexandra saint mleux
summary; fans think charles is cheating in alexandra after fans see his interactions with y/n, the truth shocks them even more
fc; sabrina carpenter
warnings; cursing i think
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03
note; requested ! slowly but surely recovering from this cold, so expect some more posts soon ( hopefully 🤞 )
masterlist !
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yourusername uploaded to their story !
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[caption 1; guess where i’m going 😁] [caption 2; forza ferrari sempre ❤️]
alexandrasaintmleux replied to your story !
alexandrasaintmleux make sure charles isn’t being such a worrier ! i miss u both sm:(
yourusername oh babe u know our cha, he worries about every little thing ! i think he might go crazy if i spend any second longer getting food 😬😬
yourusername n we miss u 2🙁
alexandrasaintmleux classic charles😅 idk how he survives races when neither of us are there 🤔
charles_leclerc replied to your story !
charles_leclerc WHERE ARE YOU
yourusername i swear alex can feel how nervous u are from here😭
yourusername IM OMW!!!!
charles_leclerc im not that nervous 🙄🙄
yourusername yeah sure lolllll😂😂
yourusername u just need a hug bae
charles_leclerc yeah true
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liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and others !
yourusername: slayrarri
tagged; scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc
scuderiaferrari: we’ll invite u everytime slay y/n 😁❤️
yourusername: oh yes please
username: MOTHER
username: THE HALTER TOPPP😍
username: no wonder charles kept staring at her bc AWOOGA
charles_leclerc: come back in 2 weeks, yeah? 😉
yourusername: only if u play nice 😁
username: what is going on in the house of commons…
username:,)-;@3:
username: charles 😭😭😭
username: whyd charles add a winking emoji like sir u have a gf 🤔🤔🤔
username: AND ALEX LIKED THIS?? like in front of u gf is embarrassing he has no shame 💀💀
username: it’s weirddddddd, like if that was my man i’d say it’s cheating but that’s just me
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liked by yourusername, alexandrasaintmleux, and others !
charles_leclerc: my girls, both of them.
tagged; yourusername, alexandrasaintmleux
yourusername: CHAAAAAAA
alexandrasaintmleux: chaaaaaaa ( lowercase )
charles_leclerc: Y/NNNNN ALEXXXXX
yourusername: my sweet boy n my sweet girl, ilysm😢🫶
alexandrasaintmleux: love u, pretty girl, love u both💓
charles_leclerc: and I love u both the most
alexandrasaintmleux: y/n let him win this or else hem get pouty😕😕😕 yourusername
yourusername: fine i’ll let him win 🙄🙄🙄 alexandrasaintmleux
charles_leclerc: i don’t??? get??? pouty????
carlossainz55: this is you everytime 😾😾 and unfortunately i have to deal with it🙄
username: he said i want ‘em BOF
username: WHAHSOAJD
username: waittttt i like this 🤭🫣🫣
username: they’re all dating ???&2@;&😭😭
username: how’d charles pull both of ‘em holy shit they’re gorgeousss😭😭
maxverstappen1: a lot of stuttering and blushing i must say😕😕
username: MAX???? LMAOOO
username: not max exposing charles 😭😭😭
charles_leclerc: maxverstappen1 stop lying on my name
pierregasly: you still blush at the mention of their name wdym?? 🤔 charles_leclerc
lewishamilton: remember when he came up to us and asked for advice on how to approach them? 😂 pierregasly
charles_leclerc: ok that’s ENOUGH pierregasly lewishamilton
yourusername: no keep going boys pls 🙏maxverstappen1 pierregasly lewishamilton
alexandrasaintmleux: i’m liking this 😁
username: JWODKWKS WHATS GOING ONNN😭
username: poor charles he’s getting violated under his own post
username: THEYRE A THROUPLE???
username: YOOOOOO😨😨😨😨😨
username: wdym they’re all dating WDYMMMM
username: do u guys need a dog??? i can bark😖
username: KANKAKXKAKKD???!1@;&/&/
username: i audibly gasped whaaaa
username: the way they all slay so hard
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mypoisonedvine · 7 months
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𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | boyfriend's dad!cillian murphy x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | for some reason, your first instinct after the breakup was to talk to his parents; maybe because you'd come sort of uniquely close to them, for a relatively short relationship. you might not have gone to their house if you'd known you'd find mr. murphy there alone...
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ ONLY!! unprotected sex, creampie, oral m and f receiving), age gap (reader's age unspecified, cillian is 45+), hurt/comfort (but, you know, sexual comfort), infidelity, slight manipulation/coercion since the reader is very vulnerable at the time, somewhat inexperienced reader, degradation and praise, a little bit of breathplay, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia?, reader is slightly implied to be an immigrant/foreigner
note: yes I use his real name but this is just fiction and not meant to have anything to do with the real cillian murphy or his life/family so please keep that in mind!
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He had a smile on his face as he opened the door and greeted you, but it fell instantly when he saw you biting down on your quivering lip, looking down to hide how red and watery your eyes were.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, voice heavy with concern as he reached out and rubbed your shoulder. "Oh, god— come in, come in— what's going on?"
He ushered you into the house, shutting the door behind you and wrapping his arm around you as you sniffled. "I-I'm sorry—" you began instantly.  “I thought— I don’t know why I even came here…”
But, actually, you sort of did.  You’d been wanting to talk to Cillian’s wife, hoping for some motherly advice, until he answered the door and you abruptly remembered she was in England on business for a week or something.  And you couldn’t exactly show up on somebody’s doorstep crying and say ‘oh, sorry, I thought your wife would be home— I’ll come back in a few days’.
You weren’t disappointed by running into him instead, really, you just felt a little weirder about it.  The two of you had never actually been alone before.
"Don't apologise," he soothed, "it's okay, just tell me what's happened. Are you alright?"
"Yeah," you sighed, trying to compose yourself a bit as he guided you to sit on the couch with him. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just... um, well, it's sort of stupid—"
"I'm sure it's not," he offered with a small laugh, "if it's got you this worked up."
"We, um... I think we broke up?"
"What?" he breathed, knitting his eyebrows together— he cared more than you expected... but it sort of made sense, Mr. Murphy had always made you feel welcome here. Mrs. Murphy too, maybe ina different way. Yes, it's bizarre to respond to being dumped by going to visit the guy's parents, you needed a sort of... mature, familial presence right now while you were so far from your own.
You took him through the whole drama as efficiently as possible, trying to regulate your crying so he could actually attempt to make out what you were saying. He listened thoughtfully, perhaps with too much attention compared to what you expected— after all, this was stupid college drama and he was so much more mature than all that. Still, you appreciated a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.
"And, uh, that's how he ended it," you finished with a sigh, sniffling as you recalled the heartbreaking conversation. "He basically told me that he's too young to be stuck with one person, and he needs to 'explore his options'..."
"Then he's an idiot," Cillian groaned, "and I hate to say that about my own son— but he's a fuckin' idiot."
"Well," you mumbled, "I don't know— I thought maybe he had a point. I mean, we're pretty young..."
"But look at you, honey," he offered pityingly, "you can't tell me this is what you wanted."
"No, but—"
"And yes, you're young," he added, "but not too young— not if it's real."
You bit your lip to stop it from shaking any more, and he cooed at you gently as he reached up to rub your shoulder.  
“Poor girl,” he breathed.  “Honestly, I always… well, maybe I shouldn’t say it now…”
You looked up at him expectantly, and he smiled nervously as he glanced away.
“Well… I guess I always thought that you could do better,” he admitted with a soft laugh, “but, you know, I didn’t want to say anything, of course.  He was lucky to have you, and I just hoped he would treat you right, but…”
“I thought I was the lucky one,” you replied with a thin smile and another little sniffle.  “He could be really sweet, you know— he used to be.  And I always thought he was, uh, sort of… you know, out of my league.”
“Oh, honey, no,” Cillian frowned, moving his hand up to your face and holding your cheek, wiping a small tear away with his thumb.  “You’re gorgeous.”
You laughed awkwardly, not sure what to think— or how to think— with him looking at you like that.  “I… I don’t know, you’re sweet, but—”
“No, really,” he assured, and only when you met his gaze did you realise how close he was.  You wouldn’t call it too close, only because it didn’t bother you like you knew it should.  “You’re so beautiful.”
You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing actually came out… there was nothing to say.  He was coming closer, you knew it, and you wanted to reach up to stop him just as much as you wanted to shut your eyes and give into it.  You ended up sort of splitting the difference: you rested your hands on his shoulders, but didn’t push him away, and gasped slightly just before he kissed you.  Even a second of resistance could’ve given you some plausible deniability, but no, you fluttered your eyes shut and kissed him back; it didn’t help that you could feel how warm and strong he was through the t-shirt, holding on tighter to his shoulders with a hum.
His hands wandered to your waist, pulling you into him— and you were like putty, embarrassingly enough. With him kissing you like that, you really couldn’t do anything but let him pull you around wherever he wanted.  His lips were soft and gentle, his tongue teased you so carefully, and he even sighed against your skin in the sweetest way… you were totally helpless already.  
Sure, some part of you knew how fucking bizarre this was— that you were kissing Mr. Murphy, your boyfriend’s dad— well… ex-boyfriend’s.  You weren’t blind, you noticed how attractive he was when you met him, but you’d managed to successfully ignore it since then.  It made sense, after all, since the first thing you’d noticed about your boyfriend was his good looks… but Mr. Murphy was handsome in a totally different way.  Strong and broad— not especially massive or anything, still a lean guy— with thin streaks of grey in his hair, a patient sort of smile, subtle wrinkles around his eyes that added a sense of wisdom to his expression… really, he was a bit more of your type.  But that was something you had forced yourself not to acknowledge— until now.
You sat up slightly, holding onto his neck, breathing in sharply through your nose as you kissed him back a little harder.  You could feel him smiling— god, even just that made you feel so desperate— and he even moaned ever-so-quietly when you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathed against your lips, breaking away just enough to make you open your eyes— his lashes seemed especially long as he looked down at your legs curled up on the couch (and his hands petting them slowly.  “You haven’t been treated properly for a long time, have you?”
You whined in the back of your throat involuntarily as you nodded— how could he see right through you like that?  It wasn’t like it was bad with your ex, it was just… not good.  Not enough.  You wanted to feel wanted, not used— not a means to an end.
“Will you let me?” he asked softly, breathing beside your ear on his way in to kiss your neck.  You gasped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close, head falling back to give him as much of you as he wanted.  His tongue was fucking fiendish, the way he used it to tickle along your pulse, the sharpness of his teeth making you jolt only for him to soothe you with his plush lips.
“Yes,” you panted, “fuck— I, god, I can’t believe we’re doing this…”
He laughed a little.  “I can,” he admitted.  “All I could fucking think about since I met you…”
That surprised you— you’d never noticed anything that would’ve made you think he thought of you that way… but knowing that he, apparently, had made a shiver run up your spine.
He certainly hid it well, playing the part of the slightly-embarrassing dad and polite husband so well that you never would’ve known… oh god, his wife.  You didn’t want to think of her now, yet the unavoidable memory stirred arousal alongside guilt in your gut.  You had no idea you were this sort of person— but you weren’t really operating logically right now, anyway.
He held your face again as he pulled back, petting your cheek— it made you feel especially juvenile when he did that, holding your chin to examine you.  This wasn’t really the ideal state for you to be looked at, in your opinion, with you having been crying all evening.  But he looked amazed by you, even if it was just for a moment before he looked down at your body and smirked.
“Take this off,” he instructed, tugging at your shirt slightly.  You thought it would’ve been a little more romantic if he helped you out of it, but it was alternatively a bit sexier that he was just going to sit back and watch you strip for him.  It must have been his way of demonstrating his power over you, that you were just going to take it off and toss it aside without question.  Which, of course, you did.
He smiled proudly at the sight, and before you could even get your bra off, he started to carefully tease you through it— fingers running around the edge, moving the straps off your shoulders, tickling up your sides as you shifted nervously on the couch.  
“Look’t that,” he whispered proudly, and you took a second to realise that he was referring to your nipples getting hard enough to poke visibly through the fabric; you felt self-conscious all of a sudden, even if he was clearly enjoying what he was seeing.  “So needy, huh?”
“Y-yeah,” you admitted, whining when he reached inside the cups and ran his fingers over your breasts— they usually weren’t so sensitive.  “Fuck,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as a way to try to escape his gaze.  “I… I need you.”
“Fuck, baby, don’t talk like that,” he groaned, “m’gonna try to take my time with you— how am I supposed to do that if you say such lovely things?”
His lips were on your neck again— and he was leaning you back, laying you down under him, tugging your shorts down with a bit more urgency than he’d had before.
When you were basically naked— or at least, your bra and panties pushed out of the way enough that he could see what he needed to— he purred at the sight, grinning as you hastily undressed yourself the rest of the way.  
"Of course he couldn't appreciate this," Cillian sighed, baring his teeth just a bit. "Of course he couldn't appreciate a perfect fucking body like this— a perfect little pussy like this..."
You were about to open your mouth to say something, though you hadn't even decided yet what it would be, but only a low moan came out when he held your legs open and dove between them, humming as he lapped at your clit. You couldn't imagine why you were so sensitive, but your whole body was shaking already just from the gentlest motions of his tongue...
"Fuck," he said, muffled against your skin, before he pulled back enough to bite playfully on your thigh. "Fuck, darling, you taste delicious. Christ. You're too perfect..."
He devoured you again, exploring all over you with his tongue as your thighs kept instinctively clamping down on his head. He kept looking up at you through it all, even when you couldn't stand to meet his gaze and had to arch your back from the pleasure. "Fuck!" you yelped, grabbing tightly onto his hair. "Fuck, Mr. Murphy, I— oh, god..."
"He never made you come like this, did he?" Cillian realised with a groan, nearly growling when you shook your head. "Has anyone?"
"N-no," you shakily admitted, and he moaned around you as he suckled harder on your clit for a moment until you whined loudly.
"Oh, poor thing," he cooed, "how could anyone taste this sweet cunt of yours, and not want to spend hours between your legs?"
He didn’t need to spend hours, though— the taboo nature of the situation seemed to turn your body into overdrive, making you so sensitive and desperate… or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, but it was hard to say.
The point is, all too soon, you were shivering under him, back arching up off the couch, holding on tightly to his hair.  He hummed approvingly, even moaning against you as he slid his tongue inside; he must have been able to feel you pulsing, moving closer and closer to the edge, because he shut his eyes tight and seemed to focus harder and pushing you further until you couldn’t take anymore.
“Fuck, fuck!” you sobbed, thighs shaking around his head; there really was no exploration to it, no teasing, he just went right in and expertly played you like he’d done this a thousand times.  Maybe he had… but, obviously, he’d never done it to you.  Were you that easy to solve?
Obviously, that question suddenly became the last thing on your mind as your orgasm wracked through you.  He growled encouragingly, still keeping his pace, but you could barely hear it past the ringing in your ears— and your own cries of his name, of course.
He only broke away when your squirms turned into real avoidance: you could only take so much, especially with him suckling on your clit like that.
You were almost nervous to open your eyes again— and you were right, he looked so gorgeous between your legs, obviously smug with having just made you come, it was nearly criminal.
“Is it really that easy to make you come, honey?” he laughed, petting your legs sweetly as he pulled back, looking up at you with a proud grin.  “That’s so fucking cute, baby…”
As he sat up again, wiping the slick off his mouth with the back of his hand, you got this weird, clingy feeling— wanting to chase him even just as he barely moved away.  
But he’d sat up for a reason, and you started to realise it when you sat up, too, and noticed the thick bulge in his jeans.
"Why don't you show me what you can do, sweetheart?" he encouraged with a smile, opening his belt for you. "I'm sure you've learned a thing or two..."
Though you still felt terribly nervous about it, you leaned forward towards his lap. Would it be awful to admit your mouth watered when he freed his cock from his jeans and boxers, holding it out for you as a little bead of precum formed at the tip?
"Show me, baby," he whispered again, "and look up at me."
You nervously blinked up at him, meeting his gaze from his lap, as you wrapped your lips around his swollen head. He bit his lip right away and reached up to hold onto your hair, groaning as you swirled your tongue.
"Fuck," he smirked, "you're sort of a tease, aren't you?"
You weren't trying to be, really, but it didn't sound like he minded too much...
"Oh, fuck," he moaned deeply, making you pulse inside as he tilted his head back. "Fuck, baby, that's good— your mouth is so fucking warm..."
He gasped and panted as he held your head, guiding it to bob just a little faster than you had been moving. "Sweetheart," he choked, "you're so fucking good... fuck!"
The praise made your chest fill with warmth, even if there was still some part of your brain that was recovered enough from the orgasm to remember how horrible this all was.  It was horrible, but perfect— and feeling his cock throb against your tongue was perfect, too.
You’d never been told you were so good at this before, but he kept moaning and petting your head encouragingly, whispering the most wonderful and filthy things.  “Just like that, honey,” he cooed, “mm— pretty thing… knew that mouth of yours would feel so fuckin’ good… just keep sucking my cock, sweetheart.”
That you did— harder and faster, stroking what your mouth couldn’t fit, moaning softly around him.  As you tried to take it deeper, desperate to please him, you gagged on his thick head.
“God, it’s so cute when you choke on it, baby,” he chuckled.  “Do it again.”
This time it was almost too much, but he held your head down and groaned deeply.  It would’ve bothered you more— not being able to breathe— if he didn’t sound so sexy right then…
Thankfully, he pulled you off just in time, making you yelp as he held you by your hair— only to kiss you hard, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.  Moaning, you melted into his arms, and let him guide you to straddle his lap.  Feeling his jeans against your thighs and his shirt against your chest made your heart skip.
He took another long look at you when he broke away, a new darkness in his bright eyes.
“You’re so sexy,” he laughed softly, running his hands over your nude form and raising a brow as he watched goosebumps break out over your skin.  “God, I need to be inside you…”
You bit down on your lip but it didn’t do much to suppress your whimper; lifting yourself up a bit, you grasped his cock and slid it through your folds, guiding him to your entrance.  
You both gasped when he slipped inside, even when it was the slightest penetration— his whole head wasn’t in yet, and you just knew it would stretch you more than you were used to.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned loudly, tilting his head back, “you’re so wet, sweetheart…”
Lowering yourself, you took in a shaky breath, whining slightly as he opened you up one inch at a time... and each one seemed somehow thicker than the last. His fingers seemed to dig deeper into the skin at your hips and ass the lower that you sank onto him.
You could barely believe that you took it all; that you relaxed into his lap fully even when you feared being split in half by how thick he was.  “Oh my god,” you blurted out, operating on instinct as you started to move— grinding back and forth, desperate for friction despite having been satisfied by his incredible mouth just a few minutes ago.
"Fuck, there you go," he encouraged with a growl, looking down at your hips rocking in his lap. "Ride me, just like that— fuck, ride my cock, little fuckin' whore..."
You whimpered at the insult, holding tighter onto his shoulders, but it only made you move faster. "S-so... so deep, Mr. Murphy," you whimpered.
"Yeah? You can take it," he promised darkly, holding tighter onto your waist as he dropped his head back with a low groan. "God, you're tight— fuck."
You gasped as he bucked his hips up, creating more pressure against your over-sensitive clit. "Oh, fuck," you breathed, struggling to cope with all the sensations he was giving you.
Both of you settled on the right pace, and he switched between resting his head back against the couch (giving you a nice view of his gorgeous neck, how could just a neck be so sexy?!) and looking down to watch you go.  “So fuckin’ cute,” he praised— though you were sort of surprised to hear him describe you that way at a time like this.  “So needy, honey… you want more, don’t you?  You wanna go even faster.”
Now that he said it: yeah, you did.  You bounced up and down, your moans coming out all shaky and uneven because of the movement, and he grinned proudly.
His hands wandered up from your waist to your chest, groping you eagerly as you gasped out his name in response.  “Love these tits of yours,” he informed you, sounding oddly sweet for how dirty of a compliment it was.  “Took everything in me not to stare at them when you’d come over for dinner… see what you do to me, sweetheart?  Haven’t felt this desperate since I was your age.”
Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing, reminding you of how much older he was at a time like this.  He purred when he felt you clench on him, obviously affected by the comment.
“Should’ve known you’d give in right away,” he went on, softening his voice to nearly a whisper as he watched you move with heavy eyes; you angled your hips back and moaned louder, his cock rubbing against just the right spot every time now.  “Hungry little thing like you— now I wish I hadn’t waited so long.  We could’ve been doing this the whole time… I could’ve shown you how much better it can be, when somebody really takes care of you.”
Whimpering, you felt another heady pang inside you— if he kept talking like that, you wouldn’t be able to keep your head on straight… then again, the fact that you were here proved that you were less stable than you thought.
“Faster, sweetheart,” he ordered again suddenly.  “I wanna see how desperate you can get.”
You furrowed your brows together, almost pouting, but did exactly what he wanted— you wondered if you looked as pathetic as you sounded, riding him recklessly, chasing another peak even when it took all of your strength in those shaking legs.
He grabbed you by the jaw and guided you into another desperate kiss— all teeth and tongue and low moans.  “Good fucking girl,” he snarled.  “Good little slut.”
“Fuck,” you panted, moving faster.  “Fuck, I’m close—”
“I know, honey,” he cooed, nodding as he moved his hand down to your neck.  “Show me how bad you need it, sweetheart.  Let me see it, I wanna see you come for me.”
Tossing your head back, you cried out his name again— why did you always do that when you came?— and felt it overtake you.  It was even heavier than the last one, even more numbing and draining, and you didn’t even notice how hard you were digging your nails into his shoulders.
When your body failed and you came to a shaky stop, he didn’t give you much time to catch your breath: he grabbed you tight, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, and began to buck his hips up into you quickly.
“Oh my god, oh my god!” you whined, overwhelmed by the feeling, holding onto him tightly just to have something to keep you grounded.
“Fuck, m’gonna come inside you,” he warned with a growl.  “Gonna fill you, baby, you’ll be so fuckin’ full of my come—”
You sobbed and buried your face in his neck, starting to cry again for a completely different reason than before.
“Tell me you want it,” he ordered, speaking roughly right against your ear.
“F-fuck, I want it,” you gasped, “I want you to come— fuck— come inside me—”
He choked out a few more swears, he held you tight enough that you started to imagine what his bruises would look like on you tomorrow, and with a low groan of your name, it all suddenly slowed to a stop.  You moaned weakly when you felt his cock flexing against your walls, even more heat pooling inside you.  With what little energy you had left, you softly kissed his neck— until he seemed to come back to reality and pushed you back enough to be face-to-face with you again.  
You realised suddenly that you were still sort of crying from the intensity of it all, and got nervous with him staring at you like that.  “I’m sorry,” you sniffled as you wiped your face.
“Don’t apologise,” he told you again, moving your hands away so he could look at you himself.  “Besides, you look even cuter when you cry.”
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mactavishwritings · 11 months
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how would the 141 + konig and vaqueros react to reader (not part of the military,just a civvy) randomly having connections with a bid deal military person like someone on a higher rank💀 imagine them being "oh general ___? we had dinner at his house last week. i met him while I'm on a coffee run" or someone from 141 mentioning that they need something and reader is just like "hmm i might have someone for that"
this is so funny to me
ghost: he needed access to some computer data from a big law firm, but they refused to cooperate with him or the team. at dinner one night, you two were talking about your days when he mentioned his frustration with this law firm. “what firm is it?” you asked curiously and he told you it was a group called ‘Henson and co Law’. you started laughing and when he looked confused, you smiled. “i know their mom. i use to babysit them for her after their dad left the picture. let me see if i can get their mother to talk some sense into those brothers.” the next day, the law firm quickly gave ghost what he needed and asked him to give you their love.
soap: you two were laying in bed together, him having just return from a recon mission. “you know, this mission is being over complicated just because no one knows how to get into this gala. every time we try and get invites, they reject us!” he let out his frustration and you looked up from your book. “you talking about the Mason Gala? i can get you in. Helen Mason is my godmother!” soap immediately whipped his head towards you, desperately grabbing at your arm. “please doll! also your godmother is a multi millionaire?” you shook your head, getting your phone out to text the women and ended up securing the whole team and yourself tickets.
gaz: you two were on a facetime call while he was on a mission. the homecoming date kept being pushed back because one of the guys they were supposed to get intel from kept flaking. gaz was expressing his frustration with the whole thing when he mentioned a name to you that was super familiar. “wait a minute…you don’t mean Ben Klark? i went to high school with him!” you laughed when gaz lurched forward. “please tell me you still have contact with him! we need tech!” you nodded, grabbing your laptop to message him. the next day, three boxes showed up full with the Klark tech the team needed.
price: he hosted a bbq at your guy’s house every other weekend. you were bringing out trays of food to the boys at the backyard table. they were deep in work talk when you joined. “we just need to somehow get the Jacobsons sisters to agree to go undercover.” price shook his head, knowing the two girls would never agree. “you mean Vanessa and Amelia Jacobsons? their mom does my nails.” you mentioned causally, setting the tray of food in front of soap and gaz. “wait you know them?” price looked at you confused. “yeah the girls come into the shop whenever i’m in to gossip. i think i have Vanessa’s number. i can try and convince her if it’ll help.” you looked at the boys, confused as to why this was groundbreaking to them. the boys immediately started begging you to ask the girls and you giggled as you went back into the kitchen, grabbing your phone to text the two girls.
alejandro: you happened to be sitting in his office, waiting for him to take you to lunch when him and two other officers walked in. “what do you mean we don’t have a pilot? no one on this base can fly?” he sounded frustrated as the two officers shook their heads. “you need a pilot?” you asked, catching the three men’s attention. “why? do you know one?” one of the officers asked. “yeah my brother. he’s overseas in america but i’m sure he’ll be able to do it. he’s air force.” you grabbed your phone to text him. alejandro crouched in front of you, kissing your head. “you’re my favorite, did you know that? i’ll contact his C.O. and get him down here.” you smiled, squeezing his hand. “you still owe me lunch.”
rudy: he was working in his home office when you entered, a plate of food in your hands. “rudy honey? you gotta eat.” you placed the plate down on top of the stack of papers he had buried his face into. “i will once i can get a reputable translator for when we go to russia in a few days.” he groaned, softly pushing the plate to the side. “i think i have a guy for that.” you pulled your phone out and started texting. rudy looked up at you, the look of hope in his eyes. “i’m desperate. everyone i reach out to is so sketchy.” he rubbed his eyes and you nodded. “Mikael Petrov. i studied with him in college. great guy.” you handed your phone to him with the contact pulled up. “you are a blessing.” he stood before kissing you gently.
könig: you were folding laundry in the family room when könig came home. he kicked his boots off before collapsing in his favorite chair next to you. “rough day?” you asked, not looking up from your task. “ja. everyone is busting my ass to find a hacker that can decode this transmission we intercepted.” you chuckled at the very militaristic sentence. “you could’ve just asked me baby. i know so many people.” you placed his pile of laundry on his lap before kissing his head. “you know someone? a hacker?” he looked concerned at first. “don’t ask. college roommate for all 4 years.” you laughed before getting your phone out. “Emila Davenport.” you gave him her number before taking the laundry basket full of clothes back upstairs to your room. “i’m gonna marry you someday, maus!” könig called out and you laughed loudly in return.
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
Text
Jason cursed. This is on par for most of his evenings, as it was rare that he ever got a peaceful night. However, this? This takes the goddamn cake and smashes it on his face.
Red Hood stood, with a portable wet vacuum in his halo bed hands, cursing everything in the world as he cleaned and followed the small puddles of Lazarus water. The people in the streets give him a wide berth, having long learned the intricacies of Red101: if the Red Hood is doing weird shit but there’s no gun in his hand, you make sure you’re not the reason he’ll have a gun in his hand.
“O, you there?”
“Copy.”
“Mark this priority, would you?” His voice is tense, pissed. “Some bastard’s dripping Lazarus water all over my territory.”
A pause.
Oracle’s calm voice flowed through his helmet, “Then we’ll have to watch out for League influence. I’ll let the others know. Red Robin?”
Red Robin chimed in, “Yeah, already on it. It’s weird though, Ra’s isn’t supposed to be here for another two and a half weeks.”
“And how would you know about my grandfather’s movements?”
“Careful, Robin, I might become your grandma!” Red Robin chirped sadistically, before clicking off his comms, snickering at Robin’s spluttering.
“Jesus fuck. I’ll try to hunt down the bastard from the ground. O?”
“Can’t help you. The cameras around your area has been scrambled for the last half an hour.”
“Shit.” Red Hood tensed, one hand going for his pistol as the street’s current inhabitants wisely vacated the area.
“Hood. Don’t go in alone. It could be a trap.”
“Whatever, B, you’re not the boss of me.”
“Give me three minutes. I’m close by. Do not go in without back up, little wing.” Nightwing piped in, and Red Hood could hear the faint whooshing noises of a quiet grapple.
“Cass and I are close by as well. Staking out a place but we could be on standby if needed.”
Two taps. Cass’ tacit agreement.
“Got it.”
When Nightwing gets there, they follow the trail into a dead end with no sign of any scaling of the wall or secret passages.
“Fuck! What the fuck are we chasing, a ghost?”
“Don’t even joke like that-” Nightwing said. “You’ll set Red off again.”
Jason kicked at the wall.
“Fuck!”
——
On the other side of the wall, thirty minutes earlier:
“Life is like a hurricane, here in Duckberg…” Danny mumbled as he stumbled away. He’d saved his alley kids from a pretty serious mugging that ended with a stabbing that Danny foolishly allowed to touch him because he wanted to keep the wicked looking knife. Normally, he’d be able to brush this off, but with his recent injuries, mental stress, and the lack of food that is the hallmark of a homeless teenager, Danny barely kept himself conscious as he stumbled into a particularly dense in ectoplasm dead end.
“Napping place… napping place…” Danny mumbled before eyeing the brick wall. Yeah, okay, he’s slept in weirder places. He could sleep in the dumpster, but… he’d smell and Danny could not handle an infection. So, he went intangible, invisible, and pulled the knife out of his body. As he settled in (quite literally into) the stone wall for his nap, Danny manages to mold his ectoplasm to hold his cut up stomach together.
Danny allows sleep to take him, blissfully unaware of the glowing green puddles of ghost blood he’d left behind.
——
Jason, terrified: he’s in the walls!! He’s in the fucking walls!
Danny, quoting vines and tiktoks while napping in walls for that back support option: thanks for checking in! I’m still a piece of GaRBaGe.
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d0youc0py · 6 months
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Hiii can ypu write something with the 141 boys and their wife who starts a new job and her male coworkers are obcessed with her and dobt believe she is happily married. Please and thank you
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“John?”
“Yes, Honey?” 
“Something interesting happened at work.” You said slowly. He turned in his office chair, leaning back with a heavy sigh.
“That so?” He hummed. His large hand grabbed your waist resting you on his leg. You hummed back running your fingers up and down the front buttons of his shirt. He leaned into you.
“Remember that guy at work I told you about? Harrison? Anyways, I was walking past his desk and I noticed it was empty. I asked my boss about it and she said he quit in a panic this morning.”
John nodded his head in agreement. “That is interesting.” He gave you a soft smile, running a hand up and down your back.
“John?” You asked again slowly. “What did you do?”
“My job.” He whispered leaning forward planting a quick kiss against your lips.
“Meaning…..” You trailed off swallowing hard.
“Protect you.”
“Did you kill him?” You whispered back, your eyes darting around as if someone was eavesdropping. A chuckle escaped him causing you to jump.
“No, sweetheart. I did gently urge him to fuck off though.”
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“Si, can you pick me up please?”
You could hear him already getting his things over the phone.
“What happened?”
“Nothing serious. Remember that new guy I was training? Well he still hanging out in the parking lot and everyone has already left- it just doesn’t feel right.”
“Good Girl.” He praised. You could hear his truck starting. “I’ll be there in ten, just keep talking to me. How’s that book you’ve been reading?” His voice calmed you. You did as you were told, not bothering to question how he was going to make a thirty minute drive in ten minutes.
••••••••
He had made the drive in twelve minutes- the longest twelve minutes of your life.
“I’m outside, start heading down.” You breathed a sigh of relief opening the doors, the chilly night air hitting you.
“There’s my girl.” He quickly wrapped an arm around you giving you a peck on the top of the head. He opened the passenger side door of his truck, hoisting you up. He walked around to his side of the truck, leaning with his back against the door. His cold eyes staring directly into the grey car across the lot. It didn’t take long before the grey car tore out of the lot. Simon had a satisfied smirk on his face as he hopped into the truck. “I’m gonna start dropping and picking you up from now on, yeah? At least till that prick knocks it off.”
“Thanks, Si.”
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“Mac! What’re you doing here?” Not that you weren’t excited to see him, he just wasn’t due home for another week.
“I missed you.” He murmured against your hairline.
“I missed you too.” You breathed, enjoying the way his cologne tickled your nose.
“I heard what you said on the phone, about our little problem.” His eyes scanned around your office building wondering who the group of bastards could be.
“Is that why you’re here? John you didn’t need to do that.” You assured, waving him off.
“Yes I do, Bon. This is your dream job and those bastards are already making you wanna quit- now point me in their direction and then we can go to lunch together, hmmm?”
“Please don’t make a scene Mac.” You whined tugging at his shirt. “How about I give you a tour and we just so happen to bump into them?”
He sighed, wanting nothing more than to give each one of them a black eye for how miserable they’ve been making you. But you and those damn puppy eyes outweigh his desire for blood.
“Alright. I might ‘accidentally’ trip one of them though.”
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“How’s my pretty girl doin?” You could hear his smile on the other side of the phone.
“Best I’ve been in a week.” You smiled back. “I have a feeling I owe it to you.” You chirped, running your nails across the dinning room table.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, baby.”
“Yeah, sure. Well let me fill you in since you ‘don’t know.’ This morning I walked into work and you know those guys I was telling you about? The ones who take turns practically cornering me at my desk to ask if me and my husband are really ‘that serious’ and if I would like to go out with them for a ‘bitchin’ time’.”
“I do remember those guys, yeah.” Kyle mused from the other line. He wished he was there to see the air quotes he knew you were doing.
“Well this morning I walked in and they wouldn’t even look at me!” You cheered. “Ky, I don’t know what you did, but I owe you massively.”
“Don’t owe me a thing, pretty. Just happy you’re not scared anymore.”
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augustinewrites · 1 year
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the first time it happens, bakugou is caught completely off guard and is therefore unable to properly act upon it. 
he’s just gotten off his patrol, groaning loudly as he sinks into his plush desk chair. he still needs to type up his report and go over the notes left by his assistant before he can call it a day, but as he waits for his monitor to boot up, exhaustion creeps over him. 
as a rule, bakugou did not usually nap in order to keep his strict sleep schedule. but after a long week of work, he can’t help but let his eyes drift shut and a yawn escape as he lays his head back. 
that is, of course, when the door to his office opens. and there’s only one person brave enough to open the door without knocking first. “hey.”
“hi,” you smile, stepping inside to place a bottle of water and a pack of electrolytes on his desk. “will i see you at home soon?” 
he glances at his monitor, the clock in the corner reading 4:48pm, twelve minutes before the workday is over. wincing, he rubs his temple. “might still be a while, sorry.”
“do you want me to stay and keep you company?”
it’s a tempting offer, but he shakes his head. “no, ’s alright. just pick up some takeout and i’ll meet you at home soon.” 
“okay,” you agree, but only because you both know that after you grab some takeout, you’ll be right back here to keep him company anyway. “just don’t work yourself too hard, promise?” 
“yeah, yeah,” he mutters, letting you press a kiss to his temple. 
“alright, see you later, pumpkin!” 
bakugou pauses, brows furrowing. “wait–”
you’re already sailing out of the room though, and bakugou slumps back into his chair. you did not just call him, dynamight, pumpkin. that was something people named orange tabbys, not the number two pro with the highest offensive stats on the charts.
_____
he wishes that he could say the first time was the last, but it turns out that pumpkin wasn’t the worst nickname you could bestow upon him. 
you’re just sauntering out of the bedroom when you join him in the kitchen the next morning, freshly showered after his jog and fixing you a cup of coffee. you’re not a person until at least 9am, responding to his good morning, baby with a grumble as presses the mug into your hands.
you wake up a little after you’ve had a few sips, smiling at him over the rim of your mug as you murmur, “thanks, sweetpea.”
bakugou, who’d been gulping down a glass of water, nearly chokes, sputtering, “babe—”
“do you want to make waffles?” you ask, smiling so sweetly at him that he doesn’t have the heart to reprimand you. so he just doesn’t answer right away, wary of any more saccharine sweet nicknames you might fire off. 
“katsuki?”
“yeah, waffles. sure,” he replies stupidly, watching as you nod and begin pulling ingredients from the cupboards, criminally oblivious to the quarter-life crisis he’s having. 
_____
bakugou doesn��t know what’s going on with you. he’s heavily considering a trip to the er, because you must have been hit with some sort of quirk that makes you call him disgustingly corny pet names.
“nice catch, cupcake!” you applaud upon his return to the agency after apprehending a villain. one of the interns starts to laugh, but quickly smothers it when the pro-hero shoots him a withering stare.
“looking good, sugarplum,” you compliment when he’s in the middle of a quick, post-lunch workout in his office. he’d stopped mid curl, almost dropping 50 pounds on his foot. 
“thanks, muffin,” you grin after getting his signature on the report he’d missed earlier in the day. he tells kirishima, who’d been there trying to steal a protein bar from his desk and is starting to laugh, to shut the fuck up or get out.
it wasn’t that he hated pet names (he thought they could be cute). what he hated was being referred to as various pastries that sound like they’d come out of his dad’s cookbook. 
but he could handle it. could handle you because, well, he loved you. and you make sacrifices for those you love, even if it means his friends and fellow pros stop calling him dynamite and start calling him honeycakes instead. besides, you’d get over���whatever kind of phase this was eventually.
and you do. 
“goodnight, lovebug,” you murmur, just as he’s on the precipice of sleep. but he’s wide awake now, sitting up to flick the bedside lamp on.
“how do you just say things like that?” he asks, genuinely bewildered. 
you rub the sleep from your eyes, blinking yourself awake. “like what?”
“the names!” he groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “they’re ridiculous.” 
“they’re not ridiculous,” you huff indignantly as you turn to face him. “they’re cute, like you.” 
“i am not cute,” he scoffs, batting your hand away when you poke his cheeks. “you just— you can’t keep callin’ me shit like cupcake or lovebug. just pick somethin’ else to call me.” 
you’re looking at him with a shit-eating grin on your face, and bakugou feels he’s made a mistake of some kind. “should i call you my love instead?”
heat crawls up his neck as he averts his gaze. “that’s alright.”
you shuffle closer. “yeah? what about…darling?” 
“you can use that, sure,” he shrugs, hoping he doesn’t look as flustered as he feels. 
you’re straddling his lap now, dipping your head down to whisper,
“what if i called you daddy?” 
he freezes, fingers digging into your hips as your teeth graze the shell of his ear. 
you get your answer when he flips you both over so you’re trapped against the mattress, swallowing your gasp with a heated kiss.
BONUS:
you hum contentedly as kirishima places a stack of bills into your waiting palm. “i told you he would break in less than a week.”
the redhead groans loudly, lamenting his empty wallet. “man, i thought he was stronger than this!”
“if i’d called him something like ‘kitten,’ this whole thing would have gone a lot faster,” you muse, shaking your head. 
kirishima, clearly having not learned from his recent loss, suggests, “i’ll buy you lunch for a week if you call him that during the board meeting later.”
“i’ll buy you lunch for two weeks if you do it,” you counter. 
“deal!”
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clockwayswrites · 3 months
Text
Not So Imaginary
Parts 1-3 Parts 4-6Parts 7-8 WC: 1177
“I brought you some more books to read,” Jason said as he entered the room.
After Danny had shown that they were clearly a person (a kid at that) and answered a few questions, they had been moved to an actual room on the Watchtower. Jason was pretty sure part of it was how he refused to leave the cell until Danny was moved, but he didn’t really care as long as it got his friend safe.
Danny looked up with a grin. They were pretty solid today, sitting cross-leg on the bed with feet and everything.
“You’re back,” the artificial voice spoke out from the tablet like device in Danny’s hands. It was a version of something called a SGD, Bruce had said, and was used by people who had trouble with verbal sounds. They didn’t know if Danny would always need it or if they’re vocal cords would come back as they continued to solidify.
“I am. B said I could stay a whole three hours today too as long as I ate a snack while I was here,” Jason said, holding up one of the bags he had.
Three hours still wasn’t a lot, but it was better than the one it had been the rest of the week. It took a lot of begging, but B finally agreed that Jason was well enough for a test to see how it went. Danny was still draining life force from Jason, and only Jason, which made certain Leaguers nervous about letting the two of them close. Jason had done everything he could to let it happen: he’d begged and argued, he’d eating everything Alfie wanted him to, he rested whenever Bruce wanted him too which was all the time, and he even agreed to stay benched for as long as it took.
That last one had really helped convince Bruce and Dick that Jason wouldn’t back down from helping his friend.
“Good. I am happy. What do you have?”
“You liked the Hardy Boys, right? I have a few more of those and I found you some science mags you might like,” Jason said as he flopped onto the bed next to Danny. He could feel the odd tingle travel up his arm as he leaned into Danny.
“Thank you,” Danny said with a wide smile. The tone of the electronic voice didn’t match the brightness of that smile, but it was alright. Jason could also feel how happy Danny was.
“You’re doing okay?”
“Yes.” There was a long pause as Danny found the right words. They were pretty quick already with preset phrases, but odder things still took longer than regular talking would. “WW took me to observation deck. We watched stars. She told me stories of stars from her home.”
“Yeah?” Jason asked, trying to keep his voice from hitching around the word. He couldn’t bug Danny with that yet. “You like her? Wonder Woman?”
“Yes.” The reply was quick, but Danny was watching Jason with furrowed brows. They pushed a sense of question through their bond.
“I’m fine. Just thinking through some shit,” Jason said with a wave of his hand. “But Wonder Woman is really cool. She’s my favorite too.”
Danny set the tablet aside so that they could run their fingers through Jason’s hair. It felt odd, what with not all of the fingers always being all of the way solid, but a good sort of odd. It seems Jason couldn’t just Danny’s concern aside.
“I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?”
Danny let out what for anyone else would have been a sigh and gave a little nod. They shorted through the bag of books Jason had brought and found a Hardy Boy’s to hand over to Jason.
“What me to read to you?” Jason waited for the nod. Apparently it was really important to let Danny choose things right then, or so the adults said. “Okay, move over a bit, yeah? You’re hogging all the bed.”
Danny placed their hand to their chest, face screwing up in an affronted expression. It didn’t work though when Jason could feel the amusement through their bond.
“Yeah yeah, I’m a brute, now shove over,” Jason said with a laugh. He worked his way up until he was lounging against the head of the bed.
Danny didn’t move.
“You’re a brat,” Jason accused.
Danny gave a silent laugh, humor bumbling up in their bond, before they flopped over right onto Jason’s chest. Jason let a huff of a sigh, but ran his fingers through Danny’s hair like he knew they liked before he opened the book to start read about another adventure of the Hardy Boys.
It was easier to feel the drain like this, when they were so close to each other and touching. Jason had tried to avoid spelling that out too much to Bruce. He got that his dad was just worried, but he was afraid if B knew he’d tried to keep Danny away.
As it was Bruce was trying to send Danny away.
Jason brushed the thought aside, focusing on doing his best to give the characters good voices for Danny. At least it was a distraction from all the rest of Jason’s thoughts. Two chapters later the stopped to ask, “Want a break or do you want another chapter?”
Danny rolled over and off Jason’s chest to flop onto the pillow next to him and Jason froze. His shock must have been clear because Danny scrambled up off the bed until they were floating above Jason.
“No! It’s a good thing. Just… you’re getting some of your color back,” Jason explained. He should really stop staring. He should take Danny to a mirror to see or something, but it was just that… Danny was beautiful right then. He found himself reaching up to brush his finger tips of the bright freckles that were scattered across Danny’s cheeks and nose like a galaxy of stars.
Bright teal eyes blinked back at him.
Jason cleared his throat. “Right, sorry, let’s go let you look.”
Danny floated to the side, landing on their feet as Jason stood, and followed behind behind to the small attached bathroom. Jason guided Danny in front of the mirror. White was spreading into their hair now.
For a moment Jason was worried that Danny was frozen in shock, then the other leaned in close to the mirror, touching the surface before bringing their hand up to their own face. Suddenly Danny was moving, spinning weightlessly around Jason as they gave a soundless whoop.
“I know,” Jason said with a grin of his own. “Look at you! You’re really coming together now! I knew you could do it. I knew that you could come back.”
Slowly, Danny drifted back down so that the tips of their toes brushed against the floor. They rested their forehead against Jason’s.
He didn’t need words to understand what Danny was trying to say.
“Don’t have to thank me, stardust. I’ll always come for you just like you’ll always come for me.”
--- AN: Oh ho, is Jason starting to realize he has a crush? And what isn't he telling Danny? Hopefully this part is good, the weather is giving me such a migraine/making me super dizzy so my eyes are crossing some! (Yes, I'm resting, on the couch with a cat!)
I really should have made an update post for this... this supposed ficlet just keeps going! 7K now! Aaaah well. Anywho, stay delightful, darlings!
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bookshelf-dust · 7 months
Text
kiss it better
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steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 3,176
warnings: swearing, sick fic (sorta), steve not taking care of himself, anxiety, stress, mental breakdown?, best friends to lovers deal (let me know if i missed something)
a/n: hi! it’s been awhile. i’m sorry about that. this has been a very slow process for me. my mental health is shit, and that’s probably obvious. i hope it hasn’t seeped into this too much, but it probably will with the next few things i write. i apologize for taking so long to post, for disappearing, for not really making this the blog it once was. but i’m not the same person i was then. so we’ll see where this goes. i hope you enjoy this one a little. i love you.
————
The shrill sound of a phone ringing scares you awake, eyes flying open, heart pounding so aggressively you fear for a split second that it might burst. 
You sit up quickly, enough so that you make yourself dizzy trying to get your bearings. You roll onto your side, and reach blindly across the edge of your nightstand, grabbing for the green plastic that’s shaking with the force of which it’s ringing. 
You almost fall out of bed, just managing to catch yourself as you bring the phone to your ear. 
“Hello?”
Your voice comes out weak, thick with sleep and the longing for more rest. It startles you and makes you clear your throat. 
“Hey, it’s me.”
The voice on the other line is even weaker than your own. It’s quiet.
“Steve?”
Your eyes find the alarm clock on your dresser, bright red letters telling you it’s just after one in the morning. You might be half-asleep, but you’re conscious enough that your heart rate picks up, registering that this isn’t when your best friend normally calls. 
You hear him breathe, along with some shuffling. He’s nodding his head, but realizes you can’t see. 
“Yeah. Listen,” he drags a shaking hand down his face. “I’m sorry to call so late.”
“Hey, it’s okay. What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”
He goes quiet for a moment, but you wait patiently for him to continue. He must be trying to get something out, and you don’t want to pressure him, or cause him stress in any way. 
Steve huffs, frustrated with himself. 
“I-I’ve got an insane headache, and we’re out of goddamn medicine. My parents were here, and my mom was hungover and I guess she must’ve emptied us out, but it hurts too bad to drive, and…” He trails off, breathing heavily. 
His pause lends you a moment to process, and you decide to speak up. If his head is killing him, you know finding the energy to speak to you, let alone call, has to be draining. You wouldn’t want him to suffer anymore than he already is. 
“Stevie?” you start, happy to hear a small hum that encourages you to go on. He registers what you’ve called him, something you don’t call him often, and his chest aches. “I’ve got some I can bring you. I think all the drugstores nearby are closed.” 
You swing your legs out from under the covers, pushing yourself off the mattress. Pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you pull on the pair of sweats slung over the end of your bed, trying not to bust your ass as you hop into them. 
“Is anything else hurting you?” you ask, gently as can be. 
“Honestly?” he responds. “I think I’m sick. I can’t be sick, can I?”
You stand upright once again, taking the phone firmly in your hand. 
“I think even King Steve can get sick from time to time. I’ll be there soon, okay?”
————
Steve’s not sure you understand him. He can’t be sick. He’s got shit to do. He has a shift tomorrow, and he’s pretty sure Dustin needs a ride one day this week because Claudia is on a “girls trip.” He has to keep working on his college essay, because he’d told you he was almost done, but really he isn’t. 
Steve doesn’t have the time to be sick. And he can’t have you ruining your own schedule to come and babysit him. He’s supposed to be the babysitter. Not the charge. 
He should be able to take care of himself, but of course, the one time his parents come home they clean out his mediocre supply of medicine. Something he’s always stocked up on, given his tendency to get the shit beat out of him, or the nasty string of tension headaches that just won’t quit. 
And his head is killing him. He has his palms pressed to his temples, trying (and failing) to dull the ache. There aren’t any lights on in the kitchen, where he’s sitting on the floor, back pressed to the cabinets. 
He’s trying not to move too much either, because he’s dizzy. This probably has to do with the fact that he skipped dinner, feeling too nauseous to eat. Now that Steve is hungry, he fears he won’t be able to get up and fix anything. 
Maybe you’ll be able to help, he thinks. But that voice is quick with a counter argument. No. I need to do it. 
He perks up at the sound of the front door opening. “Steve?” you call out, careful not to slam the door or yell too loud. It’s also why you hadn’t rung the doorbell. 
Steve raps his knuckles softly against the countertop, hoping it’ll be enough to clue you in. He can’t bring himself to shout right now. You follow the sound, taking the few steps toward the kitchen. 
When your eyes lock on his figure, see the way the heels of his hands press into his eyes, you realize how young he looks. He almost looks small, legs pulled up to his chest, big, lanky body compacted as much as possible. He looks vulnerable. You’re sure he hates that. 
“Hi, Steve,” you say, keeping your voice low. 
He looks up at you, and his face splits into a sweet grin. He’s happy that you’re here, even if that voice is screaming at him, wanting to punish him for asking for help. 
“Hey, honey.” You smile back at him, and his heart rate picks up. Sometimes he forgets how beautiful you are, and then you’re standing in front of him, snatching every last breath from his lungs. 
You set your bag down beside him and reach out, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He feels a little warm, but not feverishly so. 
You move away from him, grabbing a cup from the drying rack. You fill it up with water and crouch at his side. Steve takes the glass from you, head resting against the cabinet to watch as you grab him some medicine. You hand him a few pills, and he takes them quickly. If he doesn’t get this headache calmed down soon, he thinks he might just die. 
Steve keeps drinking the water you gave him, and you push his hair back again, watching the way it curls around his ears. 
He drinks about half of the water before he pauses, taking a deep breath. He looks at you then. It’s mostly dark in the kitchen, but the lamp on the table by the front door is on, so you’re a little backlit from it. Not to mention the moonlight seeping in from the window above the sink.
You look gorgeous. And you came over to take care of him. You got up, at one in the morning, and drove to his house, just because he asked you to. Hell, he hadn’t even asked. He hadn’t gotten the words out. But you’d known. You’d known exactly what he was trying to ask, and you’d offered your help with no qualms. 
Steve’s nose starts to sting, and that pressure from behind his eyes—it starts to release. Before he knows it, his vision is getting cloudy, and he’s crying. He can’t be crying, can he? 
You carefully remove the glass from his hand and move in between his spread knees. 
“Steve, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m gonna take top notch care of you.” 
“I know you are,” he says, voice breaking. “But I should be able to do it myself. I always do it myself.” He presses his hands against his face, but you catch his wrists and gently pull them away. 
You hold your arms out, and Steve practically falls into you. He buries his face in your neck. He can feel the warmth of your skin, the cotton of your sleep shirt. You smell like soap, that fancy conditioner you use. 
One of your hands finds the base of his neck, nails scratching gently over his scalp, thumb dragging over the top of his spine. Your other rubs soothingly up and down his back. 
“But the thing is, Stevie, you don’t have to.” 
He’s not a loud crier. But he is sort of panicky, breaths coming quick and short, chest heaving against your own. “I know you’ve always had to do a lot by yourself, but you can ask for help, and you don’t have to punish yourself for it, either.”
You feel him nod against your collarbone. His hands are fisting the back of your shirt. Eventually, he pulls away, but keeps his eyes closed. He tries to keep his head turned from your gaze. 
“Hey. Look at me.”
He does, albeit reluctantly. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, lashes clumped together and lips parted where he tries to suck in a good deep breath. 
You reach up, fingers gently sweeping away the remainder of the tears on his face. He leans into your touch, and you let him. You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. You’ve never done that before.
Steve recognizes that you’ve never done it before, even if it’s sort of fuzzy. Sure, he’s kissed the back of your hand and you’ve reciprocated, but he’s usually the one to initiate physical affection. You’re too shy most often, even if you ache to do it. 
Fuck, he wishes he were a little more coherent right now. 
“Can you stand for me? It’s late, and I think you need to rest.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.” Now that he’s thinking about it, getting in bed sounds so nice. 
You stand first, and watch as Steve pushes off the floor, gripping the countertop on the way up to steady himself. 
“Come on. The stairs are gonna be a pain.”
He reaches out for you, and you let him take your arm. He pads out to the staircase, and you watch each precarious step he takes, hoping he won’t get too woozy and trip. 
By the time he finally makes it up there, he’s wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his face between your shoulder blades. You soften beneath his hold. 
You walk slowly towards his bedroom, and he waddles behind you. You push the door open. “M’kay, Steve. Wanna change clothes and hop into bed?” 
He pulls off of you and grabs hold of his dresser. “I’m not givin’ you a free show.”
You snort. “I’ll go get some more water and be right back.”
His grin fades. “Please be fast.” He doesn’t want you to go. He doesn’t want you to leave him. 
“Steve, I’m practically The Flash.”
He laughs, pulling a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the drawer. Usually he’d sleep in less, but with you here he feels he should keep his modesty.
When you return, he takes the water from you, drinking it faster than he probably should. Steve feels like he’s had the shit beat out of him, and for once—he hasn’t. 
You’d sat down on the edge of the bed, not noticing the way he’s staring at you. You look up when he sets the glass down. He drags both hands down his face. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask.
He exhales. “I want you to stay here with me, but I don’t want you to get sick. The idea of you being on the couch, which is like, miles away, is driving me insane.”
“Steve?”
“Huh?”
“Can’t I just sleep on the futon?”
His eyes move towards the other side of his room where said piece of furniture is pressed against the wall. He’d bought it when group sleepovers became a thing after all they’d dealt with. Jesus, his brain really isn’t working. 
“Oh. Yeah, honey. Just don’t want you to go far.” 
You lean forward and push his hair back from his forehead. You’ll need to remember to take his temperature come morning.
“I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise. Not until you’re all better.”
————
When Steve wakes up, you’re not there. He starts to panic, thinking maybe he’d been too much, maybe he’d shown you a side of himself he shouldn’t have, that maybe you left. 
But you return to his room just as he’s about to start looking for you. There’s a thermometer in your hand. 
“Morning, sleepy boy. Are you coherent enough for me to check your temperature? Or no?”
He yanks the covers off of himself, and his shirt has ridden up. You catch a sliver of tummy before he sits up fully, and you miss it the second it’s gone. 
“Hit me, I can take it.”
You roll your eyes but stick the thermometer under his tongue when he opens his mouth. When you pull it away, you’re happy to see he hasn’t got a fever. He was warm last night when you kissed his forehead, but you’re thinking it was from stress or just overheating. 
“No fever. What’s buggin’ you today, Stevie?”
He flops onto his back, and his shirt rides up again. You mentally slap yourself for being so enamored by it. All your brain can compute is tummy. Steve’s tummy. “My head still, and my stomach. I feel like I haven’t slept in four years.”
His words snap you out of your reverie. “Four years? That’s incredible. When’s the last time you ate something?”
Steve stares at you for a moment, though it looks as if there isn’t a single thought behind his eyes. “Yesterday…morning. I think. Yeah, I had a banana.”
You stare back, rather appalled at his statement. “Steve.”
“Hm?”
“All you’ve had to eat in the past twenty four hours is a banana?”
“Yep.”
“Jesus christ. Get your ass up and come with me.”
Steve doesn’t move. Rather he watches you move, right out the door and towards the top of the stairs. You pause and turn around, crossing your arms. 
He huffs. And then he slides down the side of the bed like a child before crawling up and following you to the kitchen. 
Over the course of the next few hours, you manage to get Steve to eat, shower, and go for a short walk, weather permitting and all. He’s looking astronomically better than he did last night. 
Steve sits opposite you on the couch, his socked feet in your lap. “What do you think my deal is?”
You rub your hand over his calf. “I think you just had a little bug. Or maybe you let yourself get too stressed out and your body couldn’t take it.”
He blinks. “Is that…that's not a thing? Is it?”
“When’s the last time you gave yourself a fuckin’ break, Steve? When you just took a day for yourself rather than worrying about who needs to go where, or if you’ll have to cover a shift? You have to take care of yourself, or this is the kind of shit that happens.”
“Being overwhelmed about your parents, not eating, worrying about that application, all of that is fucking with you. That headache was probably a stress headache. They’re killer. I want you to be healthy and comfortable, Steve.”
You exhale, and close your eyes. When you open them, Steve has sat up, scooting towards you on your end of the couch. 
He might still be tired, but he can’t believe this. He can’t believe you. No one has ever worried for him in this way. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask. 
He barely even registers your words, too busy memorizing every line on your face. You look so fucking beautiful. It almost makes him angry. 
“I’m thinkin’ about how bad I want to kiss you.”
Your face starts to burn. You shove his shoulder. He looks at the place where you’d pushed, quirking a brow, but grinning nonetheless.
“What?”
“Steve, you can’t say shit like that.”
“How come?”
“Because we’re friends.”
“Best friends.”
“Well yeah, but best friends don’t say that to one another.”
His grin widens. He looks more awake than he has this entire time. 
“Oh, but you haven’t said it.”
You blink. “Huh?”
Steve gets his voice up that little bit higher, doing a cheap imitation of you. “‘Best friends don’t say that to one another.’ Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that implies you want a kiss too, doesn’t it?”
You drag your hands down your face and flop back against the arm of the couch. 
“So you gonna say it, or what?” He’s shifted, and you can feel him hovering over you, but you refuse to move your hands. 
“Of course I’m thinking about kissing you, Steve.” You suck in a breath and open your eyes, locking with his own. “But you’ve got cooties.”
Steve rolls his eyes before he backs up and yanks on your ankle so that you’re flat against the couch. 
“You did not just lecture me about self-care just to tell me I have cooties. I didn’t even have a fever.” 
“I didn’t even have a fever,” you mock, lowering your voice in what is quite possibly the worst impression of him you could do.
He’s quick about it. Almost stealthy, not that you’d ever boost his ego by telling him so. But his fingers are reaching for your sides, the tips dancing over your shirt, that tiny sliver of hip showing where it’s ridden up. 
Steve is practically drunk off of your laugh. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and when he goes for your neck, when you tilt your head and trap his fingers between your cheek and shoulder, he thinks he could die. 
You and your laugh. The fact that you drove over at one in the fucking morning, without even thinking about it, just because you care. That you stayed the night, listened to his pitiful thoughts, took care of him…it’s too much. 
Never in his life did he think he’d find someone like you. Someone who makes him feel like he matters. You’d made him realize how smart he is, how capable. That he could do things for himself and not just to please his dickhead father. 
You have made him whole. 
He lets up when you start breathing extra heavily, only to tickle the underside of your foot before he quits, just to piss you off. You kick him in the side. 
“I think a kiss from my very favorite person might be the best form of self-care there is, honey.”
You sit up. “Wow. King Steve really never died.” He raises his hands like he might tickle you again, but you catch them before he can do any damage. “Okay, sorry!” 
Before he can register it, you’ve leaned in and pressed your lips to his. When he does realize, he lets out a surprised hum, and you can feel that smartass smirk forming on his face. 
When you pull away, he whines. 
“All better?”
Steve falls back against the couch, pulling you with him just to get that laugh out of you again. 
“I’m healed.”
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
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sswiftiestars · 7 months
Note
Professor!anakin aaaaaaa
professor!Anakin X fem! reader
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warnings: SMUT. kinda big age gap (12 years. ani is 32 you’re 20), more of a jerking off headcanon, sexting, dilf! anakin is mentioned, padmes death at birth mentioned.
a/n: idk how college works so if it doesn’t makes sense, that’s why. sorry babes :). also, i imagine him to look like a mix of clay beresford and Stephen glass in this.
not proofread
You sit in your english class, in your sophomore year of college, as your teacher, Mr. Skywalker, was speaking in the head of your class.
you often found yourself staring at his dirty brown curls a lot, instead of listening to whatever dumbass lecture he was babbling about.
You’d also think about how it’d feel if his hands were knuckle deep inside your pussy, but, you also thought about what it’d be like for his hopefully huge cock to be down your throat. you thought about it as you endlessly fucked your self with your slim fingers, whining to yourself because it wasn’t enough.
and..little did you know, so did he.
..Anakin isn’t a…romantic guy, that’s for sure. during sex, i mean. he takes what he wants. Anakin would rather face fuck a girl till she cries, rather than taking it slow and placing soft kisses on her neck.
Sure, he can do that, but he doesn’t like to.
Anakin often stayed up late at night, fucking his fist like there was no tomorrow. he usually thought of his late wife, Padme, who unfortunately passed during child birth.
but..that changed. ever since he saw you for the first time in his class..everything changed.
“y/n, are you listening to me?” your professor asked you, your class all turning their heads at you.
you felt anxiety bubble up in your head, and chest.
you clear your throat, “yes sir.” you murmur out. Anakin nodded back at you with a slight smirk before returning back to his lecture.
Your best friend smirked at you from across the room. She knew how infatuated with him you were, because you’d tell her all your unhinged thoughts about him. you rolled your eyes jokingly in response, but deep down, you knew you’d be fucking yourself thinking about that stupid smirk of his later.
When the bell rings, you pick up your stuff and right as you’re about to leave the classroom, Anakin calls out to you.
“Not so fast, Y/n. cmere.” anakin says with a slight grin on his tan and freckled face. you wasted no time and walked over to his desk and tilted your head slightly out of curiosity.
“Listen, y/n, your grades are slipping.” he reminded you, anakins face turning serious.
“I- yeah, i know..” you mutter back in response, your face turning a bit red out of embarrassment.
“Do you need to start staying after class?” Anakin cleared his throat and leaned closer to you.
“Yeah, maybe.” you said, your breath hitching ever so slightly at his request, “—but not today, i have some things i have to do.” you lied, to tell the truth, you really needed to get to your room as soon as possible so you could fuck your self silly.
he smiled, “Alright. sounds like a plan.” Anakin nodded, “i know this isn’t the most professional thing to do, but here’s my number so we can schedule a tutoring session.” he murmured with a chuckle as he handed you a post it note with his number on it.
You quickly took the post it and nodded, “Thank you, Sir.” you said as you walked out of the classroom.
Later that day, well, night now.. it was around 8:00pm when you texted your professor,“Hey! it’s y/n, just letting you know this is me, text me when you think of a day we can schedule a tutoring session next week!”
he wasted no time at all with a quick response:
“hello, y/n! i’ll make sure to let you know. Side note; start paying attention in class instead of daydreaming. it might help you out a bit.”
you rolled your eyes to yourself, “I don’t daydream. not at all.” you text back teasingly, but making sure to keep everything as normal as possible, since he was your professor, and all.
“keep talking to me like that and you’ll see what happens.”
oh.
Oh.
“is this fucker flirting with me, or am i delusional?” you say to yourself.
“i’ll talk to you however i want. over text, at least.” you respond, hoping you’d get a bold text back.
well, your dreams came true.
“I think that mouth has better uses then talking,y/n”
“Oh?” you replied, not expecting his response like that at all, “andddd what would those better uses be?” you added.
“Probably sucking my cock.” Anakin texted you, trying to ignore the absolutely huge hard on that was straining his sweatpants.
your jaw dropped to the floor and you turned bright red. why would he say that? he’s your teacher, not your boyfriend.
“that’s not very appropriate.”
“I don’t care if it’s not “appropriate”, sweetheart. You want me and i want you too.” Anakin texts you, and starts to pull his hard cock out. Before you really get the chance to reply, he sends you a photo of him palming his hard cock, leaking pre-cum from the pretty tip.
You bite your lip when you look at the photo, feeling yourself grow wet at the sight of his huge length.
“See how bad i want you?” Anakin taunts over text message.
You waste no time to quickly take off your clothes, leaving yourself in your lace bra and underwear. you take a photo of your tits and some of your hips.
You send the photo to him, and the second he sees it, Anakin immediately starts to pump his cock.
“fuckfuckfuckfuck-“ he moans, as he looks at the photo. “Gonna’ cum all over your tits-“ Anakin mutters to himself, and let’s out a little whimper. Anakin continues s to fuck his fist and after a couple more minutes, he cums on his phone screen, onto your tits.
He quickly realizes what he’s gotten himself into, and a wave of guilt washes over him.
“Fuck. i’m gonna get fired for this.”
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moonstruckme · 1 month
Note
hi mum can we get more dr rem PLEASE :3
Always pookie <3
cw: implicit nausea and vomit, no description
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
Remus picks up on the third ring. “Hello?” 
The sound of his voice makes you smile even in your sorry state. “Hi, Remus.” 
“Hi.” Something softens in his tone; you like to think he’s smiling too. “I’m not late to pick you up, am I? I’ve only just got home from work.” 
“No, so did I.” You lean your forehead on the cool ceramic of your toilet tank, thanking your past self for having cleaned it just yesterday. “I actually…I’m sorry, I think I’m going to need a raincheck.” 
A pause. “Oh.” You wince at the disappointment in his voice. “That’s too bad. Is everything alright?” 
“Yeah, I think I’ve just caught a bug,” you say. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be much fun.” 
“You’re always fun,” Remus replies warmly, and you smile. “Are you not feeling well?” 
“Not great,” you hedge. You’ve been dating Remus long enough to know how he worries, and you don’t want that. “I’ll live, though. Maybe we can meet later in the week?” 
“Or,” he says, low and coaxing, “I could come over now and make you some soup.” 
You almost sigh, it sounds so nice. What you wouldn’t give to have him rub your back, carry you to bed and press a kiss to your brow. But you’re a mess right now, and you’re trying to save him from it. 
“I don’t think that’d be a good idea,” you say reluctantly. “Anyway, it’s not that kind of sick.” 
“Tell me your symptoms.”
“Ew,” you laugh. “Take me to dinner first, Lupin.”
“Well, I did try,” he says, and you can almost hear his smile through the phone. It catches just as easily as it does in person. “Seriously, love, how do you feel? Do you know what it is?” 
“Not necessarily, but it’s really not bad. I just don’t want to infect you.” 
“I could probably help.”
“But when you got sick I’d feel awful,” you tell him sincerely. “Thank you, but really, don’t worry about it. I’ll give you a ring when I’m no longer a biohazard, okay?” 
Remus harrumphs, but when he speaks his voice still crackles with fondness. “Alright.” 
“Thanks. Bye.” 
You hear him echo you as you lower the phone from your ear, setting it on the bathroom floor before following it down. You don’t feel secure enough in your stomach to leave the toilet just yet, so you curl up on the small mat by the shower and succumb to the exhaustion that’s been chasing you since lunchtime. 
~~~
“Oh, sweetheart.” 
You wake to a warm hand on your even warmer shoulder, startling a bit as you pull your face from the rug. Remus is looking down at you with an awful little crease between his brows. 
“Remus?” you ask, just to be sure. 
“Hi,” he says softly. “You didn’t sound this bad over the phone, you know. I’d have rushed if I knew you were about to take a nap on the floor.” 
You blink, trying to clear the fog from your brain. “How’d you get in here?” 
“You showed me the spare key when I took care of your plants, remember?” Remus looks a bit sorry, wedging a hand underneath your ribs to encourage you sitting up. “I did try to call, but I think you must have slept through it.” 
“Oh,” you murmur, getting upright and crossing your legs underneath you awkwardly.
He smiles thinly and sets a hand to your forehead. The gesture feels oddly intimate. You’ve slept with this man, met his friends, shown him where you keep your spare key, and somehow this feels intimate.
Remus makes a terribly lovely cooing sound. You think you might just die right here. 
“You’re burning,” he says worriedly. “How long have you been feeling like this?” 
“Since about lunch,” you admit. 
“Yeah?” He frowns, cupping your face in the basin of his palm. “How’d you fare at work?” 
“I got sick in the bathroom, but then I just finished out the day.” Remus’ frown is starting to look mortifyingly near to a pout. “It wasn’t this bad then, I don’t think. It got worse once I was home.” 
He hums. “Do you know how you caught it?” 
You glance at the toilet, horrified at the sight of your unflushed sick inside. “Some of my coworkers went home sick, but…look, Remus, it was really nice of you to come, but you don’t have to be here.” You say this with your cheek tucked into his palm, soaking up the feeling of his touch. “It’s way too early for you to see me like this.” 
“Oh?” One corner of his mouth twitches, but he keeps his expression curious. “Why’s that?” 
“Because…because.” You try to imbue your tone with some sternness. “It’s the standard progression of things. Peeing together, saying I love you, then you see me when I’m sick.” 
Remus nods, humming pensively. His thumb strokes at your cheek. “You want to pee together before saying I love you? That’s interesting.” 
You feel your face heat, which you didn’t know was even possible at this point. You thought surely you’d maxed out. “I’m serious.” 
“Alright,” he says. Soft, pacifying. “All that notwithstanding, I’m afraid I can’t leave you like this, lovely girl. I’ll avert my eyes if you want me to, but I’m really not too worried about seeing you any way you can be, so I think it might be easier on you if you didn’t worry about it either.” 
You wither. “But I’m gross.” 
He frowns. “You’re not. You’re just not feeling your best right now, and that’s fine. Let me take care of you.” 
You look at him for a few moments, and Remus looks back. His amber stare is steady. Finally, you give in to your more pathetic urges and nod. 
“Alright.” He gives your cheek another tender stroke. “Do you feel like you’re going to be sick again now?” 
“No,” you say meekly. It feels weird to discuss these things with him, but Remus acts like it’s the most normal thing in the world. 
“Perfect. Think you can make it to bed?” 
You definitely can, but Remus still walks you the whole way, one arm around your waist and his attention cautiously on your feet should you stumble. He gets you situated under the covers, forbidding more than one blanket until your fever comes down, and goes back into the bathroom to get the supplies he’d brought with him. 
You hear the toilet flush and cringe, but he comes back out like nothing happened. 
“I wasn’t sure what to bring since you wouldn't tell me what you had on the phone,” there’s a bit of light admonishment to his tone as he sits on the edge of your mattress with a paper bag, “so I brought most of my medicine cabinet. Do you want some anti-nausea, or are you still alright for now?” 
“Yes, please,” you say in a small voice. Remus passes you a cup of water before shaking a pill into his hand. He watches as you take it. 
“You’re going to want to keep taking small sips of that,” he tells you. “It sounds like you’re right and it’s just a stomach bug, so we’ll probably keep you off solid foods for a little while. You just let me know when you’re feeling up to some crackers or something, okay?” 
“Okay,” you echo him. Your heart suddenly feels as warm and tender as if your fever were affecting it, too. You’re enamored with the idea that you could go to sleep, right now, and Remus would still be here to take care of you when you wake up. He’d probably hold your hand if you asked, or read you something, or just sit with you if that was what you wanted. It makes you feel pathetically teary to think of being so cared for. 
Something shifts in Remus’ expression. He looks at you more closely, pushing a piece of hair away from your face. 
“Everything alright, sweetheart?” he asks. 
“Yeah.” You swallow. “Just, thanks for coming.”
Remus smiles. “Changing our minds about the standard progression of things, are we?” But before you get a chance to hide under your covers and never come out, he leans forward, kissing your cheek. “Don’t mention it.”
591 notes · View notes
chlorinecake · 8 months
Text
𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 - a yjw oneshot 🕹️
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a fun gaming session with your bsf leads to a night full of steamy shenanigans
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gamer!roommate!jungwon x reader
𝐜𝐰: swearing, kissing, teasing, hickeys, y/n gets her boobies fondled, oral (f. & m. receiving), mentions of other enhypen members
𝐰𝐜: 3k | not proofread, written quickly
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You sighed, “I wish more people in the world cared about Roblox… it saved my life, bro.”
“That was easily one of the dumbest things I’ve ever heard you say.”
“What?”
“I said-”
“EVER! Wanna play COD Mobile instead?”
“Bruh, that game is so mid.”
You scoffed at his remark, bringing a flared hand to your chest. “I’m goated at COD mobile, averaging like 100 kills per match. People praise me for that.”
“Because it doesn’t take skill?” He made it sound like a question, when he was really making a statement.
“Mkay. I bet I’d still whoop your ass on console, but we don’t have to go there.”
A hint of ambition sparkled in his eyes at the challenge. “Oh yeah? And what are we betting here?”
“Hmm,” you thought for a moment, “If you win, I’ll fix you a victory snack.”
He nodded at the enticing offer, “And if you win? Which you won’t, but-”
“The bragging rights will be enough for me, but you could always fix the broken shower head in my bathroom so I can stop using yours,” you interrupted confidently.
Jungwon forgot all about how you broke your shower head last week. You told him it was an innocent mistake, but his mind obviously wandered to other places once you told him. By now though, he had already gotten used to sharing a bathroom with you, so he didn’t feel any urgency to repair it. Still and all, he understood how you might want your private space back. “Ok. Fair enough,” Jungwon agreed.
He handed you a controller, waiting for you to join him at the loading screen. Setting up your gear and choosing what weapon you wanted, the match eventually started. Needless to say, you didn’t stand a chance against Jungwon and his team of CPU’s, feeling sore from defeat.
A prideful smile waved over his features, showcasing his prominent dimples. “Sooo,” he began, “I would like your leftover Twix bar from the fridge cut up over two scoops of vanilla ice cream. Don’t forget the sprinkles.”
You pouted, handing him the overheating controller. “I’m not fixing you a damn thing. You probably cheated!”
His eyebrows raised, “First of all, cheating is for weenies. Second of all, a deals a deal!”
“Ugh, fine. I’m charging tips, by the way.”
“Not a chance, crook. Unless,” he caught your attention as you got up from the living room couch, “you wanna go for another round?”
“No, that’s alright. I think I'm gonna just watch you play the game for now. You could invite Heeseung, too, if you want.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’ll be back, okay? I gotta use the bathroom real quick.”
Walking into the bathroom, you closed the door behind you, taking off the bra that had been killing your back for the past 12 hours. You didn’t know where else to put it, so you hid it under Jungwon’s bathroom cabinet before leaving.
“When do you ever wanna play games with me? Are you with Riki or something?” Heeseung asked from the headset.
“No, I’m with ____. She needs some testosterone in her life and wants to watch us play I guess.”
“I can think of a few ways to help her with that,” Jungwon could hear the smirk in Heeseung’s voice.
“Shut the fuck up and join me already.”
“What? It’s not like you’ll ever have the balls to make a move on her, anyway,” Heeseung chuckled. “How long have you know her for again?”
“Since the first day of college.”
“Damn, and you’ve barely even grazed first base.”
“She’s still sacrificing her free time to hang out with me, so I don’t see the loss here?”
“Look, buddy. Your rizz needs an upgrade. These cute little gaming nights you have every weekend needs an upgrade. Your wardrobe needs an upgra-”
“I get it, asshole.”
You came back with the snack he requested, eliciting a dramatic applause from your goofy ahh friend.
“Your majesty,” you bowed playfully, placing the bowl of ice cream on the desk in front of him.
You filled in the space next to him, resting an elbow on the arm of the sofa, your nipples now on full display through your thin shirt.
“Are you cold,” Jungwon asked, eyes not quite meeting yours. You meant to reply, but he was already reaching his hand out to grope your chest, using a thumb to smooth out your hardened buds with his warm touch. You eyes widened in shock.
“Woah- mmm, n-no, I’m okay” you stuttered, Jungwon smirking at how flustered you appeared.
What the actual fuck was that!?, you thought to yourself.
He went back to casually talking with Heeseung again as if he didn’t just rub your nipples…
You usually enjoyed watching Jungwon play the game, but now, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Jungwon’s pretty hands. The way his delicate thumbs maneuvered the joystick of the controller sent your mind into a daze.
“Hold up, Hee, I’m gonna put you on mute for a sec,” Jungwon said, handing you his controller before mouthing the words “play for me” with a catty smirk. He adjusted his headset over your head, bringing a finger up to your seal your lips. “Shhh,” he warned.
You knew Heeseung wasn’t actually on mute because there was an open mic symbol on the corner of the screen.
What’s he up to now?, you wondered.
Kneeling between your legs with greed, Jungwon’s fingers tiptoed to the waistband of your shorts. He paused before asking, “is this okay?," and you simply nodded in response. He smiled, tugging your shorts and underwear past your hips, knees, and ankles, stuffing them under the sofa.
He gawked at your wetness, your lips swollen with need. Heeseung started the match, and that’s when Jungwon started taking kitten nips at the sensitive flesh between your thighs, leaving a few marks. He blew at your heat before finally using his fingers to explore your folds.
“Cute,” he must’ve noticed the way your pussy pulsed in anticipation. Attaching his lips to your throbbing clit, he sucked it into his mouth, alternating with his fingers when breaking for air. He hummed at your taste, adding to the pleasurable sensations.
You tried focusing on the game for Jungwon’s sake, but you couldn’t resist the urge to reach for a handful of his hair and gently grind against his face.
“You’re doing so good for me, baby, just stay focused,” he said in between slurping at your wetness that never sounded so foul til now.
Did he just call me baby?
He inserted a finger into your tight hole and started pumping in and out of you, curling up to stimulate your g-spot. You were struggling to keep your moans in, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as he finger-fucked you. He looked up, noticing that you had fully abandoned the controller. “Keep playing or I won’t let you finish,” he purred.
“Fuck,” you panted quietly, how do you expect me to do that?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself, ____.”
You picked up the controller and started playing again. Heeseung was now swearing over the mic like a madman. “Bro, you’re really not helping out our stats here by letting the enemy clap your cheeks,” he scolded, but you weren’t really paying attention to his voice anyway. Jungwon dove back into your heat, licking rough stripes against your clit as he inserted a second finger. “Mngh,“ you mumbled dizzily, clenching around him.
“What?” Heeseung asked confused, having heard your noise.
You reached to mute the headset, but Jungwon gave you a look that told you not to test him. You gave in, and succeeded in holding back your whimpers, but your heavy breathing continued.
“Dude, I’m literally never playing the game with you agai- HOW THE FUCK DID I JUST GET DIED?”
One last thrust of Jungwon’s fingers, and you were finally coming undone, shaking from the intense wave of pleasure that washed over you. Slender fingers glided in and out of your needy hole, his knuckles adding to the delightful stretch. The match ended shortly after you came down from your high.
Jungwon licked his fingers clean of you and swapped the controller back. “Sorry about that, hyung. I was eating and didn’t wanna disturb you,” he lied, readjusted the headset on himself.
“Well, I hope it was worth it. Our team forfeited on some elite rewards.”
“You’re welcome,” he teased, which you didn’t know if it was meant for you or Heeseung, because he leaned in to kiss your lips softly, before going in for another match.
Still feeling your orgasm fresh in your viens, you reached under the couch to grab your shorts and underwear, putting them on and getting up from the sofa.
“Hey, what’s up,” Jungwon asked while taking a spoonful of the half-melted sundae into his mouth.
“I-I’m just gonna shower... and maybe go to bed after.”
“Alright. Me and Hee are gonna play one more match and I’ll be in after you. Don’t take long!”
"Dude, you’re abandoning me already? I thoughtyou were gonna help me take these punks to skill-ville," Heeseung whined over the mic.
"You need to immediately repent for saying that," Jungwon cringed.
You made your way to his bathroom with a change of clothes, closing the door behind you.
You entered the shower, trying to wash off the growing heat between your legs and any dirty thoughts associated with your roommate. A few minutes in, you also decided to wash your hair as it had been a week since that last time you did.
That’s when you heard the door open and close, followed by the sounds of clothes being removed and tossed on the bathroom floor. You peeked from the shower curtain, only to find a naked Jungwon standing right there. He didn’t notice you looking, so you pushed the shower curtain back.
“The shower is occupied at the moment, Wonie!”
“I know,” he smirked, entering the shower from the opposite end as if this was yet another casual ordeal.
“May I,” he asked, pointing to the spot you were standing at in the shower. “Oh, sure” you replied, trying not to make things awkward. He reached for the bottle of shampoo and started lathering the honey scented product in his hair and skin. You tried to avoid taking anymore peeks at his toned body so you busied yourself with a loofa and cleansed your skin for what felt a hundred times. By now, you sat idly in the corner of the shower, with bubbles waiting to be rinsed from your body. “Here,” Jungwon motioned for you to return to your original spot. “Thanks,” you said. “Would’ve been nice if you said that earlier,” he poked.
Oh shit.
“Here, let me help you,” he offered, rinsing off the soapy suds that painting your shoulders and back. Somehow, this gesture relaxed you. “Now turn around for me.” You faced him with a chest covered in bubbles. He quickly rinsed your breasts before lowering the shower head to your private, adjusting the water pressure from low to medium.
You could hardly stand up straight from the pressure building up at your center. The throbbing sensation between your legs travelled up to your quivering lips. You moved a hand to cover your mouth, hiding your lewd sounds. Jungwon didn’t mind though, because your squirming is what excited him the most. “Hold still, ____,” he teased, putting the water pressure on high.
Bracing your balance with his free arm, his soft lips met your damp neck, nibbling at the skin. The sensation was so sweet that you finally let your moans out. Developing a mind of its own, your hand reached down to stroke Jungwon’s hardness, a lustful look staining his features.
He groaned into your ear, making you feel more than half crazy. You felt your climax creeping up on you as it became harder to stand up or keep still. Starting to pump him faster, both of you were now on the verge of bussing.
A little voice in your head slapped you back into reality.
This has to stop! He’s my roommate!
You turned the water off from the faucet on the wall, retreating your hand from his member as if it tased you. Grabbing a towel from the curtain rod and covering yourself, you left Jungwon alone in the bathroom.
You went to your room and started to dry yourself off. You couldn’t quite wrap your head around what was happening but a part of you liked it and another part knew it was inappropriate.
You just touched Jungwon’s dick, and yes, it felt really fucking nice, but the thought will likely haunt you til the day you die. He was a good friend of yours, and you didn’t wanna let fleeting feelings ruin it.
You put on the scented lotion from your nightstand followed by your clothes before plopping in your bed. You didn’t bother locking your door because you never had you to worry about Jungwon intruding your privacy. Or at least, that was before today.
You buried yourself under the covers before a trail of footsteps made their way from the bathroom to your bedroom door.
Creak.
The door opened and closed.
Click.
He locked it.
Walking over to your bed, Jungwon sat behind you.
“I know you’re awake, so stop pretending,” he whispered in your ear.
Annoyed, you threw the covers off your head, giving him an exhausted look.
“What do you want, Jungwon? Huh?”
“I could always just show you,” he said, flashing you the sluttiest eyes you’ve ever seen on a man.
“You could’ve waited for me to finish up in the shower before barging in like that.”
“No, I really couldn’t.”
“We’re roommates, Won! Hell, we’re friends!”
“And? What does that have to do with anything?”
“You can’t just fondle my tits whenever you want to, or eat me out on the couch when you’re bored, or join me in the shower because you’re impatient.”
You let that sink in for a moment.
“Did you not like it when I did those things to you? Did you not like the way I made you feel,” he inquired, inching closer towards you on the bed. “Because the way I remember it, you never told me to stop.”
The room fell so quiet that your heartbeat sounded loud.
He reached over to grip your thigh, leaning in for a kiss before shoving his tongue past your lips, but you pulled away.
“Jungwon stop!” You reprimanded, turning your head from him.
He grabbed your chin and proceeded to kiss you.
“Jungwon, I said stop...”
“I can tell you didn’t mean it.”
He continued kissing you, shoving his hand into you panties and going straight to your pussy, sliding his digits up and down your moist folds, sending an ache through your stomach.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me.”
He called you baby. Again!
He didn’t waste any time to rub circles around your sensitive bud, causing your hips to jerk toward him.
“Stop it!” You raised your voice, pushing him away by his throat. Your hand never looked so small til now.
“Then make me.”
“What?”
“You know I don’t like repeating myself, ____.”
Darkness waved over both your features as you pressed his back flush against the bed, reaching for his drawstring and pulling his sweat pants down. He wasn’t wearing any boxers, so his pink tip sprung up, clear fluid leaking from the tip.
You grabbed his dick, giving it a firm stroke before grazing your teeth down his shaft, eliciting the prettiest whimper you’d ever heard from his mouth. The texture of his veins ran against your tongue as you took half of him into your mouth, using your hand to stimulate the base.
Your head bounced up and down as Jungwon grew dangerously desperate. Tapping your cheek, he guided you off of him to take a breath. Cradling your head in his grasp, he slid you back down until your lips reached his pelvis. “Hollow your cheeks for me, and breath through your nose,” he guided before using your head to please him. Your eyes began to water as his tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag a few times, but he ignored it.
“I’m so close, baby, just keep taking me,” he nearly begged, chest heaving as he screwed his eyes shut, “Be a good girl for me, mmm,” he grunted, picking up the pace.
You were getting used to being called “baby” by now.
“F-fuck,” he whimpered, bursting his load into your mouth. He lifted your head from his throbbing heat, using a thumb to wipe the cum that dribbled from the corner of your mouth. You went back down to taste his release, only for him to guide your head away.
“Don’t eat that, ____,” he giggled, but you swiped a finger to collect some of his cum anyway.
“It’s only fair, Wonie. Now we’ve both tasted each other.”
You went to the bathroom to wash your hands, coming back with a few tissues to help clean him up. Something about this dirty moment seemed so pure. So right.
“Okay, I’m going to bed for real this time, see you tomorrow,” you smiled, getting under your covers.
“You don’t expect me to go back to my room, do you,” he asked, giving you a look.
“Well, tonight, I’ll let it slide, but if you end up breaking your bed, don’t expect visitation privileges.”
“Thank you,” he let out a breath, smiling as he snuggled under the covers beside you.
“Jungwon?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think Heeseung has any idea about what we did?”
Ding.
Jungwon’s phone vibrated in his pocket:
Text Message from “Heenis” — Jake ditched me for a hoe 👍🥲 wanna call?
A mischievous smirk poked at the corners of Jungwon’s lips, “He can find out.”
“WONIE, IF YOU COME ANY CLOSER, I SWEAR YOU’RE SLEEPING IN YOUR OWN BED TONIGHT!”
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❁ if y’all can’t tell already, i am dangerously jungwon biased…
❁ anyways, thanks for reading “Joystick” by @chlorinecake! be sure to check out more works by me on my enhypen bookshelf!
2K notes · View notes
togrowoldinv · 1 month
Text
Meteors
Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
When you start working on the Barton’s farm, you meet Natasha
Note: It’s been wayyy too long since I’ve been able to make time to write. Hope y’all enjoy this Nat fluff!
Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist
Natasha watches from the front porch as a truck she’s unfamiliar with pulls up in the driveway. Just when she’s about to go ask Laura if she had any idea who was arriving, the woman steps out onto the porch.
“Right on time,” Laura comments mostly to herself.
“Who’s this?” Natasha asks, her attention is piqued.
“The new farmhand,” Laura explains. “She’s been working here every week for about a month now. Clint didn’t tell you?”
Nat shakes her head.
“Well, she’s pretty great at it,” the older woman continues. “Come meet her.”
Natasha follows Laura down the steps and to the truck. You are unloading a bale of hay from the bed of the truck when they walk up.
“Hello!” Laura greets you. She’s always so kind. “How are you?”
“I’m doing well,” you reply before turning around to actually see her. “How are you?”
You drop the bale onto the group and turn to see more than one person standing there.
“Oh hi,” you say to the new person. She politely lifts the corners of her lips, but doesn’t quite smile at you.
“This is Nat,” Laura says. “Nat, this is y/n.”
“It’s very nice to meet you,” you say, holding your hand out for her shake. She takes it in hers and the eye contact you make lingers.
“Oh, I forgot I have cookies in the oven,” Laura says. “I’ll be back. Nat why don’t you get to know y/n a bit.”
With that, Laura leaves you there with this beautiful stranger. God, she really is beautiful. You both stand there a little awkwardly before you make a move to talk to her more.
“So, how do you know the Bartons?” You ask.
“I work with Clint,” Nat says. You try not to let yourself go weak in the knees at hearing her voice for the first time. “You’re probably familiar with what we do.”
“Partially,” you say with a soft laugh. “I better get started for the day. I’ll see you around?”
Nat nods and walks back towards the house. You work the rest of the day with Natasha on your mind. She had uttered barely ten words to you, and yet you can’t get her out of your head.
A few days go by before you see her again. It’s early in the morning when you arrive. Natasha is sitting in a rocking chair with baby Nate in her arms. You walk to the porch to say hello.
“Good morning,” you greet her.
“Good morning, y/n,” she says. You try memorize the way your name sounds coming from her lips.
“He’s up early,” you comment.
“Yeah, a little too early. I offered to hang out with him while Clint and Laura sleep in,” Nat replies.
You smile at that.
“You’re here earlier today,” Nat says. You try not to overanalyze why she knows your schedule so well. It’s probably just the spy in her, you think.
“I am indeed. The cows need some extra work today, so I got here early,” you explain. “Come on out to pasture if you get bored. I’ll be there all day.”
“I just might do that,” Natasha replies.
You get a boost of confidence from her words. After you bid her a farewell for now, you drive out to the cattle field.
Meanwhile, the rest of the Barton family wakes up. The kids eat breakfast and start chores. Clint asks Nat to help him with some outside work.
A few hours go by and Laura calls everyone in for lunch. Natasha looks around the kitchen for you, but she doesn’t see you.
“Is y/n eating with us?” She asks.
“She likes to stay out there and work, so I usually take her some food after we eat,” Laura explains. She tries to read Nat’s expression. “You could take it to her today if you want.”
“Oh, sure. Yeah I can do that,” Nat says.
Laura smiles knowingly. The family eats and then Natasha makes her way to you.
At the sight of you wrangling cows, she can’t help but smile. You’ve shed the light jacket you were wearing this morning and she can see how strong you are.
“Oh hey, Natasha!” You say once you see her.
“Hey,” she replies, her head cocked to the side a little to examine your current position. “Do I even want to know what you’re doing?”
“Probably not,” you reply. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Lunch,” Nat says. “Laura’s famous grilled cheese.”
You walk away from the cows and towards Natasha. She stands by the truck, so you open the tailgate and sit on it. You pat the area next to you as a way to ask her to sit.
She hands you the lunch bag and lightly blushes when your hand touches hers.
“Thank you, Nat,” you say. “Wait, do you prefer Nat or Natasha?”
“Either one,” she says, shrugging. “Technically my name isn’t Natasha, but I’ve always gone by that.”
“That is a fun fact,” you say. Nat laughs. You try to memorize the sound. “I like Natasha.”
“Then call me Natasha,” she says.
There’s a silence, but it’s not awkward. You eat your sandwich and watch the animals move around the farm. You wonder what Natasha is thinking about as she swings her legs and sits next to you.
“It’s so peaceful out here,” the redhead breaks the silence. “I feel like I can actually think and be free.”
“Yeah, I love it. Being out on a farm is my comfort place. So far, this one is my favorite,” you say.
“Why’s that?”
“The people. Clint, Laura, the kids,” you say. “And you.”
“I’m already a reason?”
“You were a reason I love this place the second I met you,” you say. You didn’t mean for it to come across so cheesily, but Nat doesn’t seem to mind. “Hey, how long are you staying here for?”
“A few more weeks maybe,” Natasha says. “Why?”
“In two weeks there’s supposed to be a meteor shower. Maybe we could come out in the field and watch it together?”
“Sounds fun,” Nat says, trying to act casual.
“I better get back to helping Clint. He’ll be pissed I let him stack bricks alone.”
You chuckle at her words. You want to ask her to stay, but at least you know you’ll be seeing her around.
And from that point on, Natasha brings you lunch every day. Laura doesn’t even have to ask her to do it. Nat wants to. She seems to sit with you longer and longer each day.
It all leads up to the night of the meteor shower. You wear a nice shirt and jeans and drive over to the farm.
When you knock on the door, Lila answers. You greet the family and have dinner with them. Natasha is in her element here. You can see how she lights up around the kids. And she loves watching you interact with them too.
Once dinner is over, you and Natasha sneak outside. You drive out to the field and lay a blanket down in the bed of the truck.
“Very fancy,” Nat comments.
“Only the best for you, Natasha,” you joke. “Laying down is the best way to see it.”
You both lie down a respectable distance from each other, but close enough that you both have butterflies.
“You know when I was a kid, I loved anything that glowed in the sky,” Nat opens up. “Stars, planets, and things that didn’t even really have to do with the sky. Like fireflies.”
“That’s really sweet, Natasha. I love those too,” you say. “There’s so many out here in the summer.”
“I wish I saw them more.”
“You’ve gotta move out here I guess,” you say. “Oh look!”
You point to the first meteor falling. Nat watches with bright eyes. You can’t drag your eyes away from the way she glows in the night light. Her green eyes are illuminated by the scene happening in the sky.
Natasha turns her head to the side and catches you staring.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking away a bit.
“Don’t be,” Nat says. “But you are missing the show up there.”
“It’s fun to watch you watch it,” you say. “You’re beautiful, you know?”
Natasha definitely blushes at that. Her hand finds yours between the two of you. You’re it sure who leans in first, but you end up just centimeters from her lips.
“Can I kiss you?” Natasha asks.
“Please,” you reply.
The distance is shattered between the two of you. Natasha’s kiss is soft, but firm. Her intentions are clear as she moves her perfect lips over yours.
“Now we’re both missing the show up there,” Natasha jokes when she pulls away.
“So worth it,” you say.
You kiss Natasha again. And again. And a few more times before you decide to go back to the house.
“I’ll see you in the morning?” You ask her once you’ve walked up to the front door together.
“Yes,” Natasha says. “Thanks for tonight, y/n. I haven’t enjoyed myself this much in a long time.”
“Anytime, Natasha. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” she says.
You hug her for the first time and love the way she feels in your arms. It’s like she is perfectly shaped to be in your grasp.
You share a brief kiss before you let her go inside. As you walk back to the truck, you can’t help but do a little happy dance. Natasha watches through the window and laughs.
This is the start of something amazing. You can feel it.
You’re falling for her faster than the meteors fell in the sky. Little do you know, she’s falling for you in the exact same way.
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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months
Text
How JJK men act in and after a fight part ll
Part l with Gojo, Megumi and Nanami here
Pairing: Geto x reader, Choso x reader, bonus: Yuji x reader
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: my lil baby Yuji simply can't start a fight so it's more like a fluff fan service for y'all, Choso and Geto being a little mean, not proofread
Tags: @satoruukisser @sanicsmut (I just know you've waited for this one hehe) @ifuckfictionalmen
Suguru Geto
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“Hey love, how you’re feeling?”, the sweet voice of your boyfriend talks through the speaker of your phone.
Oh, how much you’ve missed him. Since Suguru became a special grade sorcerer, he’s got his hands full with work. Day in and day out, his life is occupied by exorcising curses. So him finding time to call you is a really rare occacion and puts a bright smile on your face immediately.
“I’m okay, my mission went well. Working with Utahime isn’t that bad”, you explain briefly.
“How are you? What a nice surprise that you’re calling!”
“Yeah, about that…”
He clears his throat uncomfortably, leaving you waiting on the other end of the line. What is wrong?
“Listen (y/n). There’s a very important mission for me and Satoru from Tengen-sama himself. I’ll be gone for a few day, need to leave the city…”
“Oh great, I’m coming with you!”, you announce.
Will it be hot wherever you’ll go? Maybe you can pack some nice dresses, after all you aren’t there for work. When was the last time you went on vacation with Suguru? You don’t even remember anymore. All you know is that you ha-
“There’s absolutely no chance you’ll come with me, (y/n). Come on, don’t be ridiculous, this is a mission after all. Also, Satoru will be there with me.”
Your heart sinks for a second, his words slightly hurting you.
“I’m sure Satoru wouldn’t mind! And like that, I’ll get to spend some time with you. That would be great, right?”
“(y/n), this is not the place for a grade 2 sorcerer. And I don’t want to spend time with you on a mission”, he instantly replies, voice dead serious.
Wow. You let his words sink in. No, he didn’t mean it like that, right? He didn’t just say that you are weak, that he doesn’t want to spend time with you…right? Your thoughts are racing. Why would he say something like that? You train your ass off day and night, always trying to get better at anything you do. And why does he not want to spend time with you on a mission? You’re a jujutsu sorcerer yourself after all. And he doesn’t seem to mind working with Satoru…
“I didn’t mean it like that”, he interjects after a few seconds of silence.
“Please don’t worry.”
“I just don’t understand why”, you breathe out.
“You love working with Satoru, though. Why not working with me?”
“(y/n), please don’t cause a scene right now. Satoru and I are the strongest, so it’s only logical to let us carry out that mission. You might be skilled, but not skilled enough.”
‘Not enough’, ‘don’t cause a scene’. His words cut through your heart like a knife through butter. Yes, you might be sensitive, you might overreact, but the way he speaks to you with this unknown stone cold voice and not very well picked words leaves your mind racing.
“I just thought this would be a perfect opportunity to spend some time together. The last few weeks we-“
“(y/n)”, he interrupts you harshly.
“I don’t have time for that bullshit now, okay? We’ll talk tonight.”
And with that, he hangs up, leaving you standing in the rain with trembling lips and eyes that threaten to overflow. What has gotten into him? You asked him really nicely, never pushing him with any of your words. Why did he leash out like that?
C’mon, it’s not even that bad. Maybe he was in a rush, maybe he is too overwhelmed by that important mission maybe-
You do your best to suppress your ruminations with good and logical thoughts desperately, but still…
Maybe he doesn’t want to spend time with you.
Frantically, you wipe over your falling tears, trying to calm yourself down in the middle of Tokyo. Maybe you should just get home, drink a tea and wait for Suguru to return. Yes, after all he told you you’ll talk this out in the evening.
And so you waited. Minutes, then hours, long after midnight without a sign of him. Dead worried that something might have happened, multiple unanswered calls on his and Satoru’s side. This isn’t him, it doesn’t match your boyfriend’s style at all to leave you standing in the rain. Something must have happened, something really really bad, something-
“Hello *hicks*, ‘m back”, his voice suddenly announces.
You squint your eyes, gaze fixed on the way he stumbles into the living room with his face redden in a way you’ve never seen before and orbs roaming around with no aim.
“Where have you been? I was absolutely worried about you. And you didn’t even answer my calls…”, you begin, your voice as soft as ever even though you feel like dying from the inside.
Even from afar, it is obvious that he’s drunk. Anger begins to rise in you, almost making you lose your cool temper. He can’t be serious about that.
“Yeah, had no time for that. Was out with Satoru”, he remarks.
“Yeah. Nothing new”, you comment dryly.
“You mad?”
His figure stumbles towards the couch, almost crushing you under his body weight in the process. No, the thought alone of having him near you right now drives you insane. You pull away, creating distance between your bodies.
“Huh, where are u goin’?”, he questions.
“I tried to call you this whole evening. Do you remember that you promised we would talk things out tonight?”
You desperately try to not sound hurt and vulnerable, but you simply can’t help yourself. Suguru is what you considered the best boyfriend walking on this earth, always respectful, always looking after you. But today, you’ve seen a very new side of him – a side that seems to don’t give a damn about you.
“Oh, that’s why you’re so mad…”
“I always knew and respected that Satoru is your best friend, but that you’re choosing boy’s vacation over a little bit of time with me after the two of you’ve been together the last weeks while I’ve waited at home for you just doesn’t make sense to me. But not only that, you called me weak, you made me feel as if I’m worth nothing. I don’t know, maybe I’m overreacting, maybe I’m being ridiculous like you’ve told me, but it…it just hurts me, Suguru. It hurts me that you’ve treated me this way”, you blurt out.
“I’m scared, (y/n).”
His sudden words catch you off guard, eyes glued to you with so much gravity that you forget about his drunkenness for a second. He’s scared? Where does that come from? You can’t help but scoot a little closer, his facial features looking as lovely as ever in the moonlight.
“Why are you scared, Suguru?”
“This is something really treacherous and I’m not sure if I’m able to take it. If something goes wrong, we might have to fight Tengen-sama himself or worse, you’ll get hurt in the process. I don’t want you to be in the line of fire. I’m truly sorry if I hurt you with my words this afternoon, but the thought of you getting injured on this mission alone killed me from the inside. You are way too precious to get into something like that, especially because it scares the hell out of me myself.”
You grab his hand gently, looking deep into his chocolate brown eyes. No, this isn’t the time for pride. Now you understand why he acted so strange, why he came home this late and why he’s sitting in front of you full to the brim. It shatters your heart to know that these thoughts are occupying his mind – more than his words this afternoon.
“Don’t let these thoughts eat you up alive. How did you say that afternoon? You and Satoru are the strongest. If you aren’t able to complete that mission, nobody is. I believe in you with all my heart, darling. No matter how hard the mission seems, no matter how dangerous is get. I just want you to know that I’ll always stay by your side”, you mumble, arm gently wrapped around his shoulder.
“I don’t deserve you, darling”, he hushes against your ear before embracing you in a tight hug.
God, how much you needed that, how much you longed for his touch this whole day.
“I’m sorry for saying all these things to you. It’s just…I don’t want you to get involved in this…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself, I get it. And I overreacted a little. Don’t think about it too much. Let’s go to sleep, okay? You probably drank a lot and tomorrow is another day.”
“I love you, (y/n). Forever and always.”
You smile at him softly, fingertips tracing along his jawline. Even though he smells like sake and his drunk eyes roam around your face with no aim, you love this man with all your heart.
“I love you too, Suguru.”
Choso Kamo
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“C’mon, stop acting like a dick”, you demand, mouth twisted into a pout.
Choso signs while rolling his eyes in pure annoyance. How long have you been sitting here, trying to convince him to take you with him to Shibuya? It sure feels like an eternity.
“Stop acting like a fool, then. This isn’t the right place for you to be. I have a very important mission to fulfill, (y/n)”, he demands.
The dangerous glistening in his eyes scream in your face to stop, to just let it slide and wait for him to return. But this is not fair. Fuck, you’re a mighty jujutsu sorcerer, you are really able to help him. But what does he do instead? Working with some of these hilarious curses.
“And I’m a very important juju-“
“ENOUGH.”
The way he yells into your face makes you back away in an instant, usual so bored eyes filled with nothing but thick anger.
“Don’t you understand that I don’t need you? This is very important to me, I seek revenge for my brothers. This isn’t a game, (y/n). You’ll stay here and wait until I return. Do you understand?”
You defiantly cross your arms over your chest, gaze glued to the floor.
“Do. You. Understand.”
“Yes”, you bark back.
“Good. I’ll be back this evening, my love. Don’t be too mad at me.”
His fingers gently caress your cheek before he walks away, into the fight. You cry out in frustration, a new wave of fury washing over you. Why would you be in the way? It’s not like you’re reincarnated yourself, a skilled jujutsu sorcerer for more than 150 years. Fuck, maybe you’re even on the same level as Choso. He might be your boyfriend, that doesn’t mean he can boss you around.
Yes. You are your own chef, always doing whatever you want. A cheeky grin is plastered on your face. Why would you stay at home when slaughtering some jujutsu sorcerers sounds so fun?
Without thinking twice you sprint away, into the dark night, into the train station of Shibuya Choso told you he’s stationed in. Where is he? What is he doing? Maybe you’re even able to help him killing these brats that are responsible for his brother’s death. Yes, what a joy, what a fun!
Your eyes dart around the empty area, not even a single curse in sight. Huh, that’s strange. You thought there would be more resistance, more fights. But instead, you are greeted by empty hallway over hallway, running around like a lost puppy.
Until you stop right in your tracks. Until you can hear his beautiful voice loud and clearly. Your feet carry you his direction instinctively, soon greeted by a merciless fight that lays itself out in front of you.
“Oh, what a coincidence to see you here!”, you greet your boyfriend, aiming a punch at the pink-haired boy in front of you without even knowing who he is.
Choso’s eyes widen in pure horror, forcing him to forget abou the presence of Yuji Itadori for a moment.
“(y/n)”, he breathes out.
You smile at him widely, confidence dripping from every poor.
“I told you to stay away”, he hisses through gritted teeth.
“And I didn’t listen”, you reply.
With a swift motion, he pins you against a nearby wall, eyes darted at you in a way you’ve never seen before.
“I’m starting to lose patience with you, (y/n).”
“I’m here to help you out, love. Why would you have to do this on your own? I love killing people and I’m also seeking revenge for your beloved brothers. After all, they were my family too and everyone who hurts you automatically hurts me too.”
He pants heavy, gaze wandering between your eyes and lips. You’re not sure what’s going on, his mimic not telling you a single bit about his feelings. Is he mad, disappointed, absolutely furious? You can’t tell. But you meant every word you said. When will he finally realize that he’s never alone as long as he has you? You are his girlfriend, after all. It’s your job to be on his side.
“Do you really mean that?”, he mumbles, still holding onto your shoulders tightly while distracting the boy behind him with his blood manipulation.
“Of course I mean that. We’re a team, right?”
You don’t know what’s happening, too stunned by the way he suddenly wraps his arms around you so tightly that it’s hard to breathe, head hiding in the crook of your neck.
“You don’t know how much that means to me…”
It’s like you’re air and he can’t breathe, the way he holds onto you for what seems like dear life. You can’t remember a single moment he ever showed his affection towards you this passionately. But oh how much you enjoy it, closing your eyes to feel his touch even better.
“You are suborn”, he breathes out, taking your face between his hands and pressing his forehead against yours.
Are these tears glistening in his eyes? Your usual so cold and calculating heart feels as if it’s drowning in emotion, absolutely mesmerized by the way he shows himself so vulnerable around you.
“And absolutely in love with you”, you reply, running your fingertips through his hair.
“Wait here until I give you a signal. You know what you have to do”, he instructs you before pressing one last kiss at your demanding lips and turning away.
“Hell yes I do”, you response immediately, face of determination readier that ever.
Bonus: Yuji Itadori
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“Can you stop breathing so damn loud?”, you spit at him.
God, he’s so annoying. Everything is so annoying today. The way the birds sing, how your lunch tasted, your training session. Everything just sucks, including your boyfriend.
“Did I really breath that loud? Sorry babe”, he replies instantly, holding his breath in consequence.
“Urgh, can you scoot over? I need more space”, you grumble.
“Of course!”
Without thinking twice, he slides against the wall so you have more than enough space. Really, is he serious about that?
“Are you keeping safe distance to me or what?”
“Absolutely not, I just thought you need space…”
“Do you need space from me? You want me to leave, huh?”
“N-no!”
Yuji just looks at you through his doe eyes, mind racing in a desperate attempt to understand your feelings. Did he do something wrong? Actually no, you always love to literally sit on him while watching TV, telling him over and over how much his slow breathing calms down your tingling nerves. What is different today? He looks into distance, thinking of every possible thing that might be wrong until…
Oh, you might be on your period.
Even though your mood swings were never this bad, the timing and general mood would be fitting. But asking you is way too dangerous, maybe you’ll lose it completely if he brings that up. No, he’ll just stay nice and give you what you need at the moment.
“Do you even love me anymore?”
He comes closer, gently taking your hand into his much larger one while smiling widely at you.
“Sure, you’re the love of my life after all! Just tell me if you need something, I’m always there for you, okay?”
Your stomach is killing you, it feels like getting kicked by the horse over and over again. Deep within you know it isn’t fair to let that out on Yuji, but at the moment, you simply can’t control yourself. But when he’s looking at you like that, gently smiling at you with so much affection in his eyes…
“Maybe you can bring me some pain killers?”, you mumble.
“Will be right back!”
In the matter of five minutes, he returns with pain killers and chocolate in one hand and a hot water bottle in the other. Your heart melts away. God, how is this boy so precious? Is this really your boyfriend?
“Oh Yuji, thank you so much…”, you breathe out, tears stinging in your eyes.
He’s just too good for you. You treated him so badly, and him? He treats you like a literal princess.
“Everything’s fine, (y/n). I do that with pleasure!”, he reassures you, gently wrapping his arms around you while whipping your tears away.
“I’m sorry for lashing out on you like that and causing trouble”, you sniff against his chest, immediately regretting your words from earlier.
“No need to be. We all have a bad day sometimes! And now open up the chocolate and choose a movie."
Your orbs gaze up at him, admiring his loving eyes. Is it even possible to start a fight with this boy? It seems like he understands you like no other, always saying the right words. He is simply a blessing, a true sweetheart.
“Yeah, sounds good”, you reply, placing a small kiss on his cheek.
What a precious boy you are able to call your boyfriend.
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