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#(hate that hate that hate that i want my normal writing energy back)
quietwingsinthesky · 9 months
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this gentle life of ours
(Other Links: Dreamwidth - FFNet - Pillowfort - Squidgeworld)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: N/A Fandom: Supernatural Ship: Midafer Additional Tags: Mpreg, Pregnant Lucifer (Supernatural), Pregnant Michael (Supernatural), Domestic Fluff, Light Angst, Alternate Universe Wordcount: 3039 Summary:
Getting Michael pregnant is an accident. Lucifer? Not as much. Or, Adam and his two pregnant archangel house spouses <3
Notes:
Now this is for @nugget-of-joy, who gave me a prompt, yes, but made it a submission aksljdalskjd. but i forgive her and give her 3000-ish words. the original prompt was "Midafer with both angels being knocked up 👀 thoughts?" and my thoughts were Yes :)
Lucifer has been staying with them a few weeks by the time Michael starts to show.
Michael was the one who dragged him home. Adam doesn’t have the full story, only that one day it’s just him and Michael in the house and the next, their guest room is the devil’s new home. Of course he’s curious, but so far, he’s pretty sure he and Michael have carved out a life for themselves by virtue of no one noticing they got out of the Cage. Bringing Lucifer in jeopardizes that, sure, but trying to figure out where he was before Michael found him is asking for trouble that Adam, frankly, doesn’t need to deal with.
For the first few days, he didn’t even see Lucifer. Michael spent most of his time with him. The ability to be jealous was burnt out of Adam a few hundred years ago in Hell. It would require him to believe Michael would ever leave, and that’s not just unlikely, it’s laughable. Lucifer started leaving his room after that beginning lull. He was quiet. Adam might call him jumpy, even paranoid. It was something in his eyes. A hunted look. Pity came first and easiest, but compassion? That was harder to summon up for him.
Not until Michael was gone one day, and Lucifer was freaking out about something he refused to explain to Adam, and Adam had to tug him over to the couch to lay on top of him like his own personal weighted blanket. Lucifer melted where he was pinned under Adam. They stayed like that until Michael came back, far better equipped to help Lucifer than Adam was.
After that, he began to fit into their lives in places Adam hadn’t known were empty. Lucifer cuddled between them in bed and eating dinner at their table and sleeping in their bed. Michael takes brotherly love to a whole other level, and Lucifer soaks it up like he’s starved for it. Adam can't help falling in love with him, too. Especially as Lucifer begins to relax a little more, trust that he and Michael aren't about to throw him out. He learns to cook, he builds himself a garden, and he pouts for attention when he feels he hasn't gotten enough for the day.
And then, Michael is pregnant.
There really is no other outcome for him and Adam never using protection. Adam had assumed that Michael, being an archangel and powerful enough that he dragged them both out of the deepest part of Hell by pure stubbornness, was able to keep himself from being knocked up. Adam was wrong. He’s not that upset about it. Having a kid is terrifying, having one with Michael even more so, but at the same time, he thinks about their little terror running underfoot one day and finds himself smiling without meaning to. (He even thinks about their kid growing up with Lucifer still around, and… he likes it. This is their home, this is their life, and Lucifer is going to be a part of all of it.)
Michael's belly grows, the curve of it undeniably pushing on every shirt he wears. Adam’s a little obsessed. Michael will let him put his hands over the bump while he tells him what’s going on underneath. It’s too early to feel any kicking, but Adam can’t seem to pull himself away. That’s Michael’s baby. That’s his baby.
As his computer tabs fill up with searches about baby food and cribs, he begins to notice Lucifer watching them. He hovers in the doorway while Michael and Adam are debating which color to paint the new nursery. (Michael says it should be dark since the point of the room is to put the baby to sleep; Adam says it should be something brighter because they've had seen dark places in their lives.) He doesn't say a word when he sees Adam babyproofing the house (something Michael has told him again and again isn't necessary, as though an unprotected electric socket or a stray bottle of detergent could actually harm their child, but it's about the principle of the thing) but he does follow him from room to room. He pretends to be doing something else whenever Adam glances over at him, but he's not being particularly subtle. It's the first time Adam starts to have doubts about him being around their kid. They'll be half Michael's, half angel, but that other half of them will still be human. Adam's pretty sure that Lucifer's opinions on humanity haven't shifted much since the Apocalypse. (If anything, they've soured more since he's seen what humans have done to the world he loves. It's a touchy subject, and therefore, banned from the dinner table.)
It hurts more than Adam expected it would to think that Lucifer won't love their child as much as he and Michael will.
The morning after those thoughts begin to stew in his head is a pretty one. Almost clear skies with wisps of cloud that let the sun stream down through their windows. By the time Adam is awake, his bed has long been abandoned by his archangels. (The night before, Lucifer had still come to sleep with them, but for the first time, he'd slept with his back to both of them. Michael had noticed, but he hadn't said anything, only fallen asleep with his frown pulled tight.) Adam drags himself reluctantly from his bed to the kitchen. He can't hear coffee brewing, but Michael hasn't been able to stand the smell for the past week and Adam will do anything to make him more comfortable, even if his caffeine-addicted brain hates his guts for it. At least Michael's there for him to wrap himself around, face buried in the crook of his neck where he's warm and soft. Adam's hands sneak around his middle to caress his belly.
"Good morning," Michael says. Adam grunts an interim response while he wakes up enough to make words. Being near Michael is helping. He smells nice.
"Morning," Adam finally manages, and he lets Michael turn around in his arms so that he can kneel down and press a kiss to his baby bump. "Good morning to you, too."
"You know that they can't hear you yet, right?" Michael asks, spoiling Adam's fun. Adam ignores him.
"You be good to your dad today, huh? He's grumpy enough already." Michael huffs, and Adam smiles up at him. He rises to kiss Michael, wiping away any hint of annoyance. Adam rests his forehead against Michael's when the kiss breaks. He misses having Michael possess him, but Michael needs to keep their baby safe and the idea of being pregnant himself makes Adam extremely dysphoric. It's different when it's Michael, even in a body that mirrors his own. Michael is so happy with parts of Adam that used to make him feel sick that he sees them in a new light, and even his own memories of living in a body closer to how Michael keeps it are no longer as painful. Besides, and Adam can admit this without any shame, Michael looks hot carrying his kid.
It's Michael who tilts his head away from Adam to look behind him. Adam follows his gaze, glancing back over his shoulder as Michael asks, "Lucifer?"
Lucifer winces when Michael says his name. He looks immediately like he wants to be anywhere but there, watching the two of them talk about their child. He turns his gaze down to the floor and refuses to look up again.
"This isn't going to work," Adam says. "You can't stalk us around the house like this. What's so wrong about Michael having a kid that you can't even look at him?" Michael makes a noise, quiet and hurt, and Adam realizes he hadn't even put the pieces together about why Lucifer was acting weird. He hates that he had to be the one to bring it to light, but if they don't take care of it now, he can see it snowballing into a serious disaster. They've built something together, and Adam isn't about to give it up.
"I never said anything about that," Lucifer answers. He speaks very softly. Adam's never heard him raise his voice in the entire time he's been living with them. (He'd been expecting it. Arguments between him and Michael, day in and day out, only slightly better than the Cage because the insults wouldn't echo for a hundred years afterwards and cut just as deep. Instead, even as he feels more safe around them, Lucifer is still quiet. It's like something out there had fun breaking him, and no one had bothered to pick up the pieces before Michael brought him home.)
"Then stop acting"—Adam gestures at him, frustrated—"like that. Like the whole world is going to end because of a baby." Lucifer still won't look at them.
"Is that what this is about?" Michael asks. "Lucifer, our child-"
"Your child," Lucifer corrects. "Adam didn't give them to me. He gave them to you." Adam blinks. Finally, Lucifer glances up at them.
What's on Lucifer's face isn't disgust. It's longing.
"Are you jealous?" Adam asks in disbelief.
"Is that so hard to believe?" Lucifer's voice hardens for the first time Adam's heard in a long time. He turns his accusations onto Michael, ignoring Adam's surprise. "You knew we could create life? That I could-" There's a choke that cuts off his words, and silence, and quietly again, "You knew it would come out wrong if I did it, didn't you? That's why you weren't going to tell me." Lucifer was terrifying, once. Adam's sure he could be again, if he wanted to. He stands at the threshold of the kitchen, shoulders slumped, and looks as though he's been kicked until he won't get up again. "It would be like me." The resignation in his voice is so heavy, even Adam feels weighed down by it.
"Wait," he says, buying himself time to process all of that, "wait, you- You're mad at Michael because he's having a baby and you aren't?"
Adam's life was supposed to have reached the point at which it couldn't get more surreal a few years ago.
Lucifer doesn’t answer him. 
They have a big nursery. Room enough to fit two cribs, side to side. 
Adam takes a step away from Michael. He feels Michael’s fingers trail down his arm as he moves, but he’s not going anywhere. Only far enough to hold Lucifer’s hand and draw him further into the room. He shouldn’t be standing on the sidelines anymore. He belongs here.
“If you want a baby that bad, you could just ask,” he says.
”Michael already-“
”We can have more than one baby,” Adam explains, purposefully slow so that Lucifer will get annoyed with him and pull his energy away from being upset. It works.
”I didn’t tell you because I had no idea you wanted it,” Michael cuts in. “Brother, any child of yours would be a blessing, not a curse.” Michael lifts a hand to cup Lucifer’s cheek as Adam squeezes his hand. He can hear the words unspoken, and neither are you, and hopes Lucifer can, too. Though, if he still can’t, if he doesn’t believe Michael, then they have plenty of time to prove it to him. Starting with this.
“Then, you’ll let me have a baby?” Hope is such a rare thing to hear in Lucifer’s voice. Adam grins.
”Only if you’re okay with changing diapers.” Lucifer does make a face at that, but it melts away as he realizes he can get exactly what he wants. He squeezes Adam’s hand back. 
He waits a moment, and then says, “Has it happened yet?”
Adam and Michael stare at him. Lucifer stares back, unbothered. 
“We haven’t…” Adam trails off. It occurs to him that he’s never had sex with Lucifer, and Michael has never mentioned having sex with Lucifer, and between the Cage and the Apocalypse, Adam doubts he had time to get down and dirty with the demons or humans he equally despised. Which means that Adam has to ask a very important question. “You do know how babies are made, right?”
“Human ones. I’m not human.” Adam looks at Michael. 
“We’re in human vessels,” Michael says.
It takes Lucifer a minute of frowning to figure out what they mean. When he’s done, Adam swears he can see his cheeks flush. 
“I haven’t done that before,” he admits. 
The devil is a virgin. He’s asking Adam to deflower and knock him up all at once. It’s a lot for Adam to handle. His dick happily disagrees. This is exactly what it wants to handle.
There’s only one way to take care of him. Adam grips Lucifer’s hand in one of his and takes Michael’s with the other, and he leads both of them to their bedroom to finally make better use of their king-sized mattress.
----
By the time Lucifer’s baby bump is showing, Michael’s has grown huge, and Adam is in (exhausting) Heaven.
Their bedroom has become a nest where he swears more pillows are added every day. Being pregnant drains a lot of Lucifer and Michael’s energy, which they aren’t used to at all, leading to situations where they tire themselves out using more grace than they should and Adam has to haul them to bed or the couch to lay down for a minute. Michael gets cravings for foods that have gone extinct, and because of that, Lucifer’s garden is now crowded with several impossible plants bearing fruits that haven’t grown on Earth in hundreds of years. Adam keeps seeing toys at the store and buying them, even though it’ll still be a few months before the babies are born and longer before they’ll be able to appreciate stuffed animals.
Here, in their secret corner of the world, the future is starting to look a lot brighter.
(Adam’s not fooling himself, though. He knows this won’t be easy. He’s heard Michael and Lucifer whispering to each other about how much harder it’ll get to hide their children once they’re older. Adam hasn’t even met either of them yet, but he’ll fight off the whole world, Heaven and Hell included, if he has to to protect them. Though, maybe he’d be better suited to holding the babies while Michael and Lucifer take care of all that that.)
He’s rubbing lotion into Lucifer’s skin, the kind that brags it can ease stretchmarks, which Lucifer doesn’t really understand (He loves the few that he has. Adam’s seen him admiring them, pleased by the changes in his vessel.) but lets Adam do anyway because he loves being pampered. He’s almost purring under Adam’s touch, leaning back against his Michael’s side with his eyes shut.
Michael looks tired. He’s more prone to overextending himself than Lucifer is. Months of a baby nephil draining his grace haven’t taught him to take better care of himself, but that’s why Adam’s here. He can give Michael a massage once he’s done with Lucifer.
”We’ll raise them as brothers, right?” Lucifer asks. Adam drops a kiss to his navel. Michael’s belly button popped out a week ago, yet another difference between Adam’s body and the one Michael inhabits that was based off of his. Michael doesn’t answer long enough for Lucifer to open his eyes and glance up at him. Michael smiles. 
“Brother and sister, actually,” he corrects. Adam looks up from kissing Lucifer’s belly. Lucifer blinks, and then he looks even more excited than he did before.
”You’re having a girl?” Adam asks. Michael nods. Adam feels his chest pull tight. They haven’t even discussed names yet, but he’s been thinking, of course he’s been thinking, and Kate would be a lovely name for a baby girl, and- He takes a deep breath to calm his racing thoughts. “That’s amazing,” he says. They have all the time in the world to sort that out. 
“I love her,” Lucifer says. “I love both of them. They’re ours, Michael, we made them.” Lucifer’s voice gets soft, almost giddy, whenever he brings that up. It means the world to him that he can create this new life, that it will be beautiful and all theirs to take care of.
”What, not mine too?” Adam teases, though he knows Lucifer doesn’t mean it like that. Humans make babies all the time. Angels? Not so much. Still, Lucifer turns to look at him, still grinning. 
“And yours,” he agrees. "These ones and the next few-“
“Next few?” That’s the first Adam’s hearing of that.
“We can’t just have two. They’ll get lonely. We need at least four.” That tugs on Adam’s heartstrings a little, but not enough for him to agree to that just yet. 
“Let’s see how well we handle having these two first. Then we’ll see about having more.” Lucifer huffs, but he doesn’t argue. His hand splays over his belly. Adam covers it. 
“How hard could it be to raise two children?” Michael asks, with the doubt of someone who was left in charge of hundreds of little angels and thinks that any of those skills he acquired leading Heaven are going to translate neatly over to snacktime and putting them down for naps.
“We’ll see how you still feel once she’s able to cry,” Adam says. Michael does not seem convinced this is going to be a challenge. He’s going to eat those words, Adam’s sure, but they’ll get through it together. “Hey, how do your ankles feel?” Michael tips his head down, realizes he can’t see them past his belly, and props them up on the coffee table. Adam clicks his tongue. “I told you to stay off you’re feet or they’ll swell up worse.” 
“I’m not going to sit here and make you take care of everything,” Michael says as Adam slides off the couch and onto his knees, bringing Michael’s foot into his lap. He gently massages the swollen area.
”Why not? I would,” Lucifer says, sleepily. Michael sighs, but it rolls into one of relief as Adam rubs his foot.
Adam smiles to himself. They’re going to handle this just fine together.
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hugheshugs · 2 years
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stevesnailbat · 2 years
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:/
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roanniom · 9 months
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I’m in love with everything about you. I’ve read through all of you Eddie master list twice now, and I love everything about it.
And I was wondering if you’d feel comfortable writing something about Eddie making the reader squirt for the first time? I imagine a dom/confident/not virgin Eddie being incredibly smug about it. I also imagine they’d both be surprised by it.
You Are
Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, fingering, squirting, dirty talk
“Baby, relax,” Eddie coos. You’re wriggling around against the bed, one of his hands spread over and applying pressure to your lower abdomen while the fingers of the other play you like a fucking fiddle. Your body can’t tell if it wants to lean into the pleasure or escape it, hence the wriggling. His fingers prod repeatedly against that spot deep inside you and you convulse, head thrown back against the pillows.
“Eddie, it’s…it’s too much.”
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Eddie’s voice is condescending in that way that you hate to admit you love. He leans forward to plant a less than innocent kiss on the swell of your breast. It’s meant to be soothing, but the way he sucks on the plush skin makes you arch your back even deeper.
“If you actually need me to stop, you know what to say,” Eddie adds. He might love to overstimulate you and push your buttons, but there’s nothing but trust and respect beneath the teasing surface. His check in somehow turns you on further and you grip wildly at the wrist between your thighs so he won’t pull away.
“No, don’t stop,” you gasp. Eddie chuckles.
“I thought you said it’s too much.”
“It is,” you maintain, though your grip on his wrist remains a vice as you roll your hips to try and ride his fingers more.
“You’re giving me mixed signals, princess,” Eddie hums. He brings the hand from your abdomen down so he can lightly toy with your clit. You positively sob. “Are you a whore or a cry baby? Which is it?”
“Eddie!” you cry out when he adds more pressure to his circular motion. Your voice cracks on a whine.
“Oh she’s a crybaby,” Eddie says in a less than sympathetic moan.
Out of nowhere the pressure suddenly becomes too much. There’s an urgency causing all of your lower muscles to seize and you arch more fully off the bed with a cry. Unable to vocalize your panic at the way the pressure seems to build beyond the normal level of an orgasm. One of your hands grabs at your breast while the other fists in the sheets, your eyes wide and blind at the ceiling, your mouth dropped open.
“Okay. Maybe more whore–,” Eddie starts to joke at your sudden contortion, but then he’s shocked into silence by the way his thrusting fingers become deluged with liquid. The sound is obscene, as is the smirk that expands over Eddie’s face as he realizes what he’s done.
He’s made your squirt for the first time.
“Oh fucking hell yeah,” Eddie groans. He redoubled his efforts, thrusting his fingers in and out of you harder, his other hand moving rapidly over your clit. The wetness splashes him and you practically scream until finally it ends, your body dropping limp to the bed, your chest heaving with pants.
You’re pretty sure you black out for a second, because when you finally get your bearings again Eddie is leaning over you, kissing your face all over.
“My beautiful, beautiful girl,” he says quietly into your ear before kissing you soundly on the lips. You’re still pretty out of it so you blink slowly after he pulls away.
“I thought I was your crybaby whore,” you say weakly. Eddie roars with laughter, kissing the path of your fallen tears on your temple before gathering you in his arms. Despite how sticky you are, he holds you close and you have neither the energy nor the wherewithal to be bothered.
“You are, baby. You are.”
~*~
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Thanks for your kind words about my work!! I hope you enjoyed this ♥️
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inkedbybarnes · 23 days
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anything
bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: bucky is determined to take care of you while you're sick.
word count: 1.6k+
warnings: mentions of insecurities, mentions of illnesses (but vaguely described), fluffy ahh shit bc why not, usage of pet names such as baby and doll. bucky being stubbornly sweet (it is indeed, a warning), lowercase writing.
i've been sick the past few days hence the creation of this fic. idk why my mood drops when i'm sick... once again, this is too fluffy even for my own good but i warned you and you're reading it still anyway. 🤨 haha jk, i hope you enjoy this one! 🩷
dividers by @cafekitsune!
reblogs, comments, and likes are highly appreciated! thank you. ♡
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“can you please let me in, baby?"
that was the fifth time bucky had asked the same question, never giving up on his mission to take care of you after learning from jarvis – out of all people... or robots? – that you were sick.
“bucky, i promise, i'm fine. stop trying to break the door,” you answered, your clogged nose not helping as you sounded horrible even with a concrete wall separating you from him. “go and tell steve that you're joining the mission. you can't withdraw yourself just because i'm—achoo!”
your nose began to leak, and you were now distracted with the need to find the tissue box that used to be on your bed. you didn't hear the door clicking open as well as the heavy footsteps of a certain soldier walking towards you.
“just because you're what? sick?”
you jumped, feeling the edge of the bed sink with his weight. you quickly grabbed the tissue box that was mysteriously thrown under the bed before facing bucky with the duvet covering most of your body.
“how did you open the door?”
bucky shrugged. “i broke the doorknob. you didn't say anything about breaking doorknobs.”
you sighed, not winning this argument with bucky. “you shouldn't be here, bucky. you're supposed to be preparing for a mission tomorrow, not babysitting me!”
“and let you go through this on your own? tough chance, doll. i'm your boyfriend for fuck's sake, and don't tell me that you're worried about getting me sick because we both know i'm immune," he argued, reaching out and pulling the blanket down enough to reveal your face. “are you really upset that i want to take care of you? you should be demanding things from me, baby. instead you've been hiding from me.”
“because i don't need anything, bucky. i can handle myself just fine." you huffed, knowing you wanted his attention and care so badly. remembering your face was exposed, you felt insecure again. you dragged the cover back up and turned away. “i also don't want you to see me like this.”
“like what?"
“like a mess," you muttered underneath the sheets. “you've never seen me like this before, and i swear i am the worst when i'm sick. you don't have to see me like this, okay? i don't want you to.”
you felt silly. it was completely normal to get sick, but you hated how extreme your body would act out whenever an illness would attack you. you'd always sound and look like you were fighting a battle in hell alone. the way your mind would take an entire flip and drag you to your lowest point didn't help either. so, not only were you feeling physically horrible, you were also struggling mentally.
“a mess? what mess?” he asked, lifting the cover to join you underneath it which caught you off guard. you were entirely exposed to his eyes now. “there's my girl. where's the mess that you're talking about, huh?”
with the little amount of energy left in you, you brought your hands up to cover your face. he could see how much of a mess you were now, far from the dream you've painted since the day you dated him. now, you were nothing but a nightmare of your reality.
“don't you dare hide from me. i haven't seen you all day and it's driving me insane," he complained, pulling your hands away from yourself. he brought his thumb to your teary eyes, wiping the tears away before they could fall. “i can't believe you're hiding from me just because you think i can't handle seeing you sick. what did you think i'd do once i saw you like this?”
you sniffed, hesitation holding you back from telling him the truth. it's only been three months since you've started dating bucky, and you were still in that stage where you'd constantly try impress him.
you weren't faking yourself, no. however, you still did your best to only show your good side and tuck away your insecurities. unfortunately, you had to get sick too soon and have to risk bucky seeing you this way.
“you thought i'd leave you? won't like you anymore? get turned off or something?”
you nodded, knowing that was exactly what went through your head and a bit pissed that he was able to read your mind without actually having the power to do so.
bucky's eyes softened at your confession, letting out a soft sigh as he saw how badly you were beating yourself up.
“if it's because of how you look right now, then it's true. you do look different," he answered, your chest tightening. “your eyes lost their glow, you're frowning more often, your eyes are all puffy, you are definitely grumpier than usual, your lips are dry and chapped from—”
“okay, i get it, bucky! you don't have to rub it in my fa—”
“but i won't be doing whatever is on your mind. you're sick, doll. it'll affect you. it's normal. hell, i look even worse when i used to get sick, but you? you still look so fucking lovely." he held your face gently, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “even then, i don't give a fuck on how messy you can get. i'm your boyfriend. i should be taking care of you, helping you feel better, and bringing back the glow in your eyes. please, baby. let me take care of you.”
this time, you were looking back at him. "you mean it?"
"of course I mean it," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "i love you, doll. i don't care how you look like right now. you could look like a swamp monster and be sick as a dog, and i would still think that you are the most beautiful woman for me."
you giggled softly, his words filling you with warmth and reassurance. you felt so lucky to have a man who truly loved you and handled your insecurities with such understanding and care, and even sillier for thinking he'd leave you for such reasons.
“thank you. that really made me feel better," you told him, your arms slowly creeping forward to hold him. “i'm sorry for hiding. i was just scared to turn you off or anything.”
“are you kidding? i'm trying my best not to hold you down and kiss you all over. i haven't even hugged you for a day,” bucky said, a pout on the verge of forming on his face.
“it hasn't even been a day, bucky. now, who's dramatic?" you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “and you're supposed to be on a mission tomorrow! are you really not going?”
“when i could be here taking care of you?” he asked, as if the answer was already obvious. “the others can handle it. my main priority is to do anything you want and make you feel better.”
“anything?”
he smiled, leaning down to let your lips meet softly. "anything."
( a lil bonus < 3 )
“what is that smell?”
sam, steve, and natasha entered the compound after a quick briefing for their mission tomorrow. they joined tony and clint who were having a casual conversation in the living room about the best burrito in town.
the kitchen was an open space, the aroma of whatever bucky was cooking spreading all around the nearby rooms.
sam didn't hesitate to come closer and inspect the kitchen, finding the entire counter lined up with various spices and plates that bucky filled with his dishes.
“what's the occasion? did i miss something?" sam asked, grabbing a fork to take a little taste until bucky slapped his hand away. "ow! what was that for?"
"hands off." bucky warned, frowning at sam. “that's not for you, wilson."
“not even a nibble? come on, man. it smells amazing!”
their usual bickering caught the attention of the other avengers, immediately joining them in the kitchen which annoyed bucky even more when he saw them eyeing the food he made.
"before any of you try to ask, no. this is not for any of you."
"who's it even for?" natasha asked, the least interested to have a taste, but was curious either way.
bucky answered with your name. "she's sick."
"what? since when?" clint asked, worry flashing across his face. "can we do anything?"
bucky glanced up before hesitantly answering. "well.. she did say she wanted to watch a movie after eating."
clint snapped his fingers and smiled. "i'm on it."
"i'll get jarvis to check on her vitals every hour and create a diagnosis," tony said, already tapping on his smart watch. "assuming she wouldn't be too comfortable letting the entire team know what's going on with her body, i'll just let you receive the updates. just update me with what you can, yeah?"
"i'll talk to fury and let you both have a week free from work," steve offered. "she needs the rest and she needs you."
"oh, i'll handle fury. he can't say no to his favourite," natasha said with a smug smile. "tell her i'll bring her all her favourite snacks once we're back from our mission, and that she better be back to full health so we can go out together."
bucky nodded, chest warming with the genuine concern they shared. he was excited to let you know how loved and deserving of all this you were.
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if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌
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ham1lton · 12 days
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i’m with the band.
pairing(s): lando norris x singer!reader
warnings: v slightly angsty? but happy ending.
summary: pop band CHANGE! has just released their anticipated third album; however, fans notice that the songs seem to tell an unsavory story….
author's note: i didn’t know whether u wanted me to do a happy song or sad but i like drama. i refer to y/n’s bandmates by their roles. so guitarist, bassist and drummer so you can add their names in! also this album is loosely based on SAWAYAMA and 5sos’s album youngblood. listen to them both if u haven’t!! incredible albums. if you can name all these songs that have been mentioned then MWAH!!! 😍
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liked by harrystyles, landonorris and 3,388,728 others.
changeband: thank you so much to the best, coolest and awesomest fans in the fucking planet. shoutout to everyone who showed up to our listening party in philly last week! you were metal as hell and we loved meeting everyone of you. no more fomo for the rest of you all now that our newest album is now out! please stream and buy and recommend to your friends and family and colleagues and even that annoying neighbour that everyone hates. we love you and we love this album!! here are some behind the scenes pics of us making and brainstorming this baby!
user1: this album is sooo good!
user2: ooh y/n got her masters in cuntology with a concentration in motherlogical studies from the university of servington… that NOTE in dynasty??? oh goddddd.
-> user4: DYNAAAASSSSTTTTYYYY 🗣️🔊
user3: the casual photo dump like they haven’t released the album of the CENTURY?
user8: you guys have come such a far way from working minimum wage and having to pool money for a recording booth omg. i’m so proud of you guys 🥺
*liked by changeband.*
user5: the way guitarist is eating this album. whoever greenlit her guitar solos i want to kiss them on the mouth.
user28: bad friend is my fav! both the acoustic vers and the normal vers!! PUT UR HANDS UP IF UR NOT GOOD AT THIS STUFF!!!! 😍😍
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liked by messyass1, messyass2 and 278,727 others.
ham1ltonshaderoom: girl band CHANGE! have released their new album ‘babylon’ and it has sent twitter in flames after the first tweet (pictured above) went viral. especially after the songs ‘lie to me’ and ‘want u back’ both contain lyrics that have sent fans of the power couple lando norris and y/n l/n spiralling. what do you all think of the drama ham1ltons?
user1: i do think it’s slightly suspicious… not necessarily a break up confirmation but it’s interesting. especially as she didn’t even bother to confirm or deny whether or not they’re still together on jimmy fallon….
user2: why do we speculate into these celebs lives? if they broke up, who cares and if they’re together… who cares?
hater1: who gives a fuck. she can’t even sing.
-> user3: you clearly gaf if you’re commenting under y/n related posts???
loveislanduk: don’t worry y/n! if need be, you can always find a new man on the island!
-> user98: messy asf 😭
user6: is tkl supposed to be y/n talking about how lando was super adored and that although he could have any girl, she’d be the only one who really loved him?
-> user4: tokyo love hotel is a homage to drummer’s japanese heritage not a lando worship song?? also it’s a metaphor for their heritages as three of them are women of colour who grew up in the west and saw their cultures exoticised.
-> user6: ‘yeah your fascination is my world’. that could be interpreted as her saying ‘your obsession is my boyfriend’.
-> user4: girl yeah but that’d be a lazy one would it not? lando ain’t that special 😭 i think that it’s reductionist to make everything she writes about a man and not her.
user44: calling the album babylon after the bible story? maybe they started with the idea of creating this amazing relationship and then grew apart? they stopped speaking each other’s language?
-> user56: maybe you need to put this energy into analysing your resume and figuring out why you’re still unemployed….
user65: idc if she broke up with that troll because that’d mean drummery/n will thrive!!
-> user9: um… u mean guitaristy/n??
-> user34: both wrong. bassisty/n is the best version!!!
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CHANGE’S INTERVIEW W/ JIMMY FALLON (transcript)
JIMMY FALLON: welcome, everyone! we have a special treat for you tonight. please give it up for the current leaders of the world charts, the incredible band CHANGE!"
(audience applause as the girls take their seats)
FALLON: alright, alright! now, there have been some rumours swirling around about your latest album and its connection to some personal matters. especially in regards to y/n. care to shed some light on that?
Y/N: well, jimmy, first of all, thank you for having us. i’m aware that there have been some rumours, but you know how it is. people love to speculate. our music is definitely personal, and yeah, it does reflect some of what's been going on in my life but i want to set the record straight. the songs on our album are inspired by a variety of our experiences, including relationships, but they're not always directly about any specific individuals. sometimes i’m inspired by other forms of media or my loved ones’ experiences. that’s the joy of making art, it can be whatever you want.
DRUMMER: yeah, and y/n is such a talented songwriter. she has this incredible ability to channel her emotions into our music and make you feel whatever she wants.
BASSIST: exactly. we're just here to make music that connects with people, and if our songs happen to resonate with someone going through a breakup? then we've done our job.
FALLON: is it true that you’re performing two songs for us tonight? can you confirm which ones?
GUITARIST: yes! we’re performing ‘want u back’ and ‘frankenstein’. both of our newest singles from babylon.
FALLON: well, you heard them, folks! get ready for an amazing performance from CHANGE!
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liked by bassist, guitarist and 1,272,973 others.
yourusername: we’re fine y’all perfectly fine please don’t call paw patrol.
user1: OH THANK GOD.
landonorris: she’s lying. i’m in my lemonade era…🍋
-> user23: you wish you could be that iconic. you’re in your dogwater era.
-> landonorris: UNPROVOKED???
user3: we needed this confirmation.
user8: PARENTS AREN’T DIVORCED WE WON 🙌
landonorris: now can you release the bonus tracks please please please 🙏🏼 ‼️😩
-> bassist: no :)
-> guitarist: yes :)
-> drummer: one of them is lying… guess who and i’ll send the whole album plus excluded tracks.
-> landonorris: … um 😅 guitarist?
-> drummer: WRONG ‼️ but i’m scared you’re gonna complain to y/n so i’ll send them over to you 🙄
user27: at least we’re back to having lando being CHANGE!’s biggest fans. what did he think of ‘exile’?
-> yourusername: he cried so hard he threw up.
-> user27: real shit.
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taglist: @cuteskz @molten-m122 @dangeroustacoalienbiscuit @booksandflowrs @mxdi0 @k1arsworld @alexmarie29 @luckyladycreator2 @23victoria (let me know via ask if you’d like to be removed).
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caeunot · 4 months
Text
johnnie guilbert x reader
johnnie writing zombie about you
idea by @beansnsoup !
➷ you and johnnie have known each other for almost two years now, you two hang out at least once a week, normally to do a video since everytime you two collab the video gets at least 100k more views.. but also because you guys get along so well. everytime your together you both laugh so hard there are tears and unlike jake you keep your space clean so videos don't need a whole cleaning crew to sort out the mess afterwards. either way you two have become pretty close, and when johnnie told you he was working on a new song you were so excited. you love all his music and you always try to watch every cover post he does on tiktok.
you showed up to jake and johnnies place to sleep over since you live an hour away and you are free both today and tomorrow so you might as well stay longer. you normally sleep in johnnies bed and johnnie sleeps on the couch since they don't have a spare room, you are fine sleeping on couch but johnnie insists everytime that you get his room.
the moment you came in the house something felt a little off, like as if there was an unusual energy in the air or that there's a secret between them that your not let into. you don't let it get to you since you were about to go on jake's live.
"jake no offence but why do you always make me eat the most unhealthy shit ever", you say as the live was ending. " okay y/n that's just mean, this is my diet your talking about ", " next time I'm on your live and you like faint from too much sugar ill refuse to drive you to the hospital, I'll just leave you there and take your room so johnnie doesn't have to sleep on the couch when I stay over" jake rolls his eyes. "so basically what your saying is that you want me dead so you could be roommates with johnnie instead.. I see how it is..." you shove him slightly and he screams dramatically and grabs his arm in fake pain. you laugh and the both of you say goodbye to chat.
"that was great, I think that was our best yet!" jake says cleaning up the mess he made. "I think so too! I wish johnnie could have joined though". you noticed how jake immediately got a massive smile on his face, " hey what's that smile for" you say giggling. "oh nothing" jake says winking before starting to drive you both back to the house.
a few minutes after coming back johnnie comes up to you, wanting to show you something. he leads you to his room and sits down on his bed. he starts petting the spot next to him, letting you know you can sit. as you sat he leaned behind and pulled out his guitar. "oh yay are you going to show me your new song!" you say doing a small clap. "yup! it's the one I've been talking about the past few weeks!" he says, you notice his voice is a little shakey but you figure it's normal when singing to a person alone. he cleared his throat and began singing.
Blood red sheets are my favorite
I could be your greatest weakness
'Cause she's got me so damn nervous
I'm a zombie, baby, what's my purpose?
you were enjoying the song so much you were barely taking note of the lyrics, at the end you gave him a massive hug. "johnnie that was great! I think this is my new favorite song of yours, you better be putting it on Spotify".
he blushed slightly, "I'm glad you like it! but I wana ask like.. what do you think of it". you tilt your head to the side a bit confused, "wait what do you mean?". " it's, uh, never mind don't worry" johnnie says putting his guitar away giving you a weak smile.
the energy was really weird now, the feeling you had before was 10x worse and you had no idea why.
a few hours later you said goodnight to the boys and got into bed, you had sat on your phone for a bit when the events of the day really started to sink in and you hated that there was unresolved issues, so you texted johnnie asking if he's awake. as you sent the text you saw a light flash on the bed. you check and it's johnnies phone
y/n 🧟‍♂️ ♥️:
heyy, i don't want to wake you just incase your asleep but if you aren't can we talk?
you laughed at the fact he put a zombie by your contact name, but as you were about to get out of bed to give him his phone it struck you. johnnies song is literally called zombie, maybe that has something to do with the emoji by your contact name. you immediately tried to recall the lyrics of his song,
I want your heart
I want your brain and that body
'Cause you got me going too insane
You can't control mе
I want your heart
I want your brain and that body
'Cause you got me acting likе a fucking zombie
y/n you absolute dumbass, johnnie wasn't just playing a song for you! he was singing his feelings. it all makes sense now, you know for a fact that johnnie gets really anxious when talking about his feelings and if he ever did want to ask you out he probably would be to shy to say it outright, jake probably knew and that's why the energy was so awkward today!
you immediately jump out of bed and go to the living room, you see johnnie typing something on his laptop but when he notices you he smiles closing his it, "you okay? it's pretty late" he asks as you sit down next to him. "johnnie can I ask you something?" you say biting your lip. "sure what's up".
"who was the person you wrote zombie about?" you said, ripping off the bandaid. at first he opened his mouth but then shut it again looking away, even in the dark you are noticing how he is getting flushed. "johnnie?", he didn't answer and instead put his arms under yours and held you for a soft hug, " it's you y/n, I wrote it about you" the hug lingered for awhile just like the silence in the air.
"johnnie I feel the same" you say after the hug finishes. "wait, really?", you take his hands in your own, "yes, really". he says nothing but then leans in for a soft kiss that you reciprocate, his hands gently fall onto your waist, as your kiss started turning more intense johnnie pulls away taking you off guard, "wait, before we carry on its my turn to ask a question" you make a confused face. "can I call you my girlfriend?" you let out a little laugh, "yes, yes yes yes!!" you say as you leaned in again, and this time you can feel his smile through each and every kiss.
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norrisleclercf1 · 3 months
Note
Thinking about arrogant doctor Charles who has been a dick lately but notices you overworked, overtired running on energy drink and about to lose it
A/N: Anon you're a god, this is also a way I can talk about ER Doc Charles since I've thrown my doc fic for him in the trash
"Seriously, can't even keep up." Dr. Leclerc or as you called him Dr. Devil scuffs ripping off his blood soaked gloves. "Bite me," You snap, trying to control your temper, all while reserving your energy.
4, 12 hour shifts back to back was rough, but the hospital was short staffed on nurses and you need the money. In a normal day you avoided being scheduled to work with Dr. Leclerc, and his need to be a dick.
It was bad enough he was arrogant, but had the skills to back it up, he was also being a major prick right now. "If you can't do your job, get the fuck out of my ER." He hisses writing down orders. "Your Er? I think you forget the nurses run the hospitals, not you arrogant self righteous, pricks." You seethe storming out of the room and slamming open the doors.
You needed air, you couldn't handle the beige walls and smell of chemicals anymore. The snow falling as you sit outside, not caring that your blood was running cold from the weather. Your lungs burn as you inhale the ice air. "Can't do this anymore." You whisper closing your eyes letting the night snow fall around you.
You don't know how it happened, all you knew was your eyes closing and then suddenly being shaken awake. Whining you blink hard, blinding light causing you to groan. "Thank fuck, you're not dead." You stop hearing the voice of Dr. Leclerc.
Turning your head you see him there, glasses on the tip of his nose and black scrubs wet. "What dumbass falls asleep in the fucking snow? Are you wanting to get pneumonia, or worse? Hypothermia? You're lucky I found your ass," He rips into you and you don't know why but the tears cloud your vision.
Dr. Leclerc freezes, unsure what to do. Groaning he stands up and folds his glasses and moves crouching to your level on the bed. "Please, don't cry, I don't know how to comfort you." He begs sounding so lost as his fingers tear through his hair making it stick up everywhere.
"Why are you so mean!" You yell, crying out of anger now. "Wha," "I mean, I try! I really do but I'm not a robot Dr. Leclerc! I've done 4, 12 hour shifts because nurses keep calling out! I've barely slept and all I've had to eat is energy drinks. SO I'm sorry!" You scream and cover your face full on sobbing now.
"Charles," He whispers and you turn angry now. "What?" You snap and Dr. Leclerc flinches. "My name, it's Charles. You still call me Dr. Leclerc, just, just call me Charles." He snaps and stands up putting his glasses back on. "Stay in here and sleep, and there's warm soup. Potatoe soap, warms the soul. And rolls. It's, it's whatever." He grumbles and fumbles around.
Opening the private room door, he stops. "You're right, nurses run the hospital. And, I need my best nurse not to die on me. So eat and sleep, be back in 4 hours." Charles walks out and you lay there and sit up glaring at the door. "I still hate your arrogant ass!"
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pantherxrogers · 10 months
Text
Anything you want - Luca x Reader One-Shot (18+ ONLY)
Content warnings: SMUT (18+ only), fingering, explicit language, dirty talk, slight choking (but not really)
Synopsis: Relationships are all about balance right? Luca lends the reader a hand after a rough day at work.
A/N: I can't stay away from my favorite baker for long 🤪 This was super fun for me to write, so I hope y'all enjoy it! My requests are wide open <3
WHY IS IT SO HARD TO FIND LUCA GIFS 🤒
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"That poor pasta," Luca teases, watching the way you roughly knead the dough. It's his attempt at easing the tension in your shoulders, but he's met with a half-hearted sigh.
Normally, when you guys cook dinner together, the conversation flows and a warm energy fills the air. Tonight, he's lucky if he gets two words out of you.
"Sorry, it's almost ready for resting," you murmur, not catching onto his attempted joke.
He shifts around the large, marble island in your shared kitchen to stand beside you. Shoulder to shoulder, he watches the way your hands angrily work the dough, like a punishment. Reaching down to the lower cabinets, he grabs a large bowl, easing the dough out of your hands.
"Well, we should give it a half hour before you give it another beating," he jokes, wanting to see the light in your eyes again. He knows you had a rough work day, but you brush him off when he asks for details.
He figured your favorite meal might ease your stress, but he has another trick up his sleeve anyway. He goes to place the pasta in the fridge, your eyes following his path.
The worn, blue t-shirt, stretches across his muscular frame, a welcome contrast to his tanned skin. His loose pajama bottoms hang low on his hips, giving you a glimpse of his defined v-line as he turns to make his way towards you.
When you're in arm's reach, he loops an arm around your waist pulling you in close. His blue eyes drop to the dip in your tank top, briefly distracted by the way your chest presses against his own.
Before he can speak, you hungrily press your lips against his own, wanting to get lost in his affection. The surprise catches him off guard for a moment, before he's matching your actions. Your tongue brushes against his own, as your hands rake through his golden hair. Your nipples poke against his chest, causing the blood to rush towards his cock, but he can't ignore the elephant in the room.
"Woah, woah, woah," he gasps, pulling away to read your expression. Your full lips are parted when you stare back with wide eyes.
You attempt to pull away, suddenly feeling vulnerable, not used to your boyfriend denying you. "S-sorry", you stutter, feeling embarrassed by your actions.
"It's okay, babe, really," he asserts, reassuring you in the way pulls you back into him. "I just want to know what's bothering you. I hate to see you upset," he confesses, stroking your lower back beneath your tank.
The frustration builds again, and you know you shouldn't take it out on your boyfriend, but he's only making you feel worse.
"I don't want to talk about it right now, okay?" you snap back at him, pulling out of his embrace. You all but stomp away, finding a nonexistent flaw in the counter tops to pick at.
Suddenly, you're enveloped by warmth as Luca hugs you from behind, pinning you between his firm body and the oversized island. It's meant to be a comforting embrace, and it is, but you're slightly distracted by his hardness pressing against you.
"I'm sorry," he mutters, chin resting atop your head, "I don't mean to push you to talk when you aren't ready," he soothes, gently swaying your bodies side to side.
"It's okay. I'm sorry I snapped at you like that," you respond. He dips his head to press apologetic kisses into your neck. The sensation causes a tingle in your lower tummy and goosebumps spread along your skin.
"It's just stupid work stuff. I'd rather focus on something else," you sigh as his hands ghost over your hips. You gently push back against him, nuzzling into his strong chest.
You're met with the subtle grind of his hips against your backside. Both of your pajama bottoms suddenly feel like a barrier between the two of you. You're feeling warm all over, needing more of whatever your lover has to offer.
"Anything you want," he places a kiss behind your ear, "it's yours". You attempt to turn around in his arms, but a gentle squeeze of your hips keeps you trapped in place. His movements are more intentional now, his slow grind making your panties dampen.
"Anything?" you huff out, pushing back to meet the growing bulge that's pressing against your ass. He murmurs a confirmation, sliding his hands up to your breasts, toying with your nipples through your thin top.
"Do you want my hands here?" his voice rumbles in your ear, rough hands massaging your boobs. He cradles the flesh, before using his thumbs to bring both nipples to a peak.
A soft moan eases out of your lips as he moves to tease you under your shirt, drawing circles around your senstive nipples. He dips his head down to suck on the side of your neck, causing that warm shiver to roll down your spine. Your body further relaxes against his own, lulling your head back.
"Answer me, sweet girl," he chides, the commanding tone in his voice making you even wetter.
"N-no, not there," you gasp out, just as he softly tugs at your nipples.
"No?" he playfully mocks, making his way towards the band of your pants. Goosebumps follow the path of his hands, anticipation building in your stomach. You can't help the moan that slips out when he dips his hand into your pants, stroking you over your panties.
"Oh, maybe you wanted me here," he chuckles, using his middle and index fingers to tease the outside of your pussy.
"S-shit, yes," you huff, hips messily grind upwards, needing more friction. You reach out to grab the island, steadying yourself.
He pulls you back towards him, needing to feel your body against his own. He uses one hand to toy with your nipple again, while the other finally dips into your panties.
"Fuck, I should've known my sweet girl needed me to rub her little pussy, hmm?" he coos, dipping into the wetness at your entrance. He drags his fingers upwards to toy with your nub.
You're hot all over, unable to focus on anything that isn't Luca. The hard length of him pressing into your ass, like he can't wait to get inside of you. The way his rough hand pinches and massages your breast, adding to your pleasure. The borderline overwhelming feeling of his fingers drawing slow circles on your clit, making your eyes roll back.
"M-more, Luca please," you beg, grinding your clit against his calloused fingers. He presses a hot, opened-mouth kiss to your neck that makes you whine out.
"I know, baby, I'm going to give it to you," he soothes.
His fingers are firm against your clit now, the pressure building in the pit of your tummy. He uses one hand to lift your top over your boobs, the cold air making your nipples tighten, as you clench around nothing.
"Fuck, look at those pretty tits," he groans out, earning a louder moan from you, as he sucks on the sensitive area of your neck. You can feel the way his eyes are locked on your boobs, like he's in a trance, and it makes you feel even sexier.
He strokes you up and down, messily spreading your wetness around, toying with your entrance. He chuckles when you whine, unable to take any more teasing.
"Ugh, shit," you sigh, finally feeling the stretch of his finger inside you. He's using a thumb on your clit now, slowly stretching you open with his pointer finger.
"Do you like that, darling?" His deep voice voice goes straight to your core, his accent thickened by arousal.
"Y-yes, I love it." Your high pitched whine makes him even harder, bucking his hips into the plush of your ass.
"Fuck, you're so wet," he groans, the huffs you're letting out making it harder for him to focus. You cry out, his filthy words pushing you towards the edge.
Both of you are panting now, but Luca's determined to keep his attention focused on you. He eases another finger into your entrance, just as your walls flutter around the first.
"You like that? Like the way I'm stretching you out?" You cave at his words, leaking wetness into his wide palm. Your walls start to clench around him, a telltale sign of your incoming orgasm.
"Yes, shit, I'm getting close," you slur, only able to focus on the smooth glide of Luca's fingers and the steady pressure against your aching clit.
"Come whenever you want to, baby, you deserve it." The unexpected softness in his voice makes you clench around his fingers, the waves of your orgasm coming in.
Luca speeds up, drawing tight circles on your bud, making it hard to hold off your orgasm. As you turn your head to the side, you're met with a heated kiss. His tongue snakes into your mouth, stroking against your own. He uses his other hand to cradle your neck, applying a gentle pressure there, knowing it'll send you over the edge.
You're dizzy with lust when the cord snaps, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. Luca swallows your moans, like he can't get enough, his mouth delving into yours. Both of you messily work your tongue against the others. Your soft whimpers are making him feel lightheaded.
Your orgasm feels like it's lasting forever, Luca slowly fucking you with his fingers to maximize your pleasure. He eases off of your clit, not wanting to overstimulate you.
By the time you've come down from your high your head rests against his chest, panting from your orgasm.
"Well, fuck," you giggle out, feeling lighter than you have all day. The rumble of Luca's chest behind you only making you laugh harder. He feels the relief all over his body, finally seeing that smile back on your face. Well, maybe not all over.
You're spinning around in his grip, reaching for his waistband before his mind can catch up.
"Maybe we'll just order in tonight," is the last thing he hears before he's closing his eyes, relishing in the feeling of your hand stroking his length.
..................................................................
Taglist (please let me know if you want to be added/removed):
@nolita-fairytale @wakandamama @wakandama2 @blowmymbackout @douceurrrr @mercang @eddiemunsonreader @cryobabyy @superhoeva @kdoxkeic @notmocca @live-love-be-unique
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sinofwriting · 6 months
Text
Figlia Mia - Charles Leclerc
Words: 6,231 Summary: When she had met Charles Leclerc for the first time in 2017, she watched as her grandfather gave him the impossible task of restoring Ferrari’s greatness and her the task of making sure he does so. Note(s): This was a lot of fun to write. I got to do a lot of digging into Ferrari’s history in motorsports and F1, and make sure that the changes I made to the history of Ferrari made some sense. I also got to reignite my love for stats and things. I spent a lot of time looking at different circuit stats (which will be relevant in the second part of this fic) and just driver stats. Used a translator for the Italian but not google translate. Also, I shouldn’t have to say this but: How I write the drivers in these fics is not based on my feelings for them, it is just what I need them to be. So, please don’t send me hate because your favorite driver says or acts or is regarded in a certain way. Thanks! Hope you like this!
Taglist | Masterlist | Part Two | Patreon
Figlia mia - my daughter stella - star
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2017
She eyes her grandfather wearily. He had called her home early from her classes and she had rushed home to Maranello.
“Nonno, what is the matter?” His gaze turns to her and he smiles, the solemn look on his face gone as he sees her. “My stella. You are back home.” His accent is thick as it wraps around the English words, always willing to indulge her. She sighs, leaning down to hug him. “You called me back. Did something happen?” He shakes his head, patting her hand when she straightens. “No, I have a meeting that I want you to attend with me.” She frowns. “It is late in the season for a meeting. Did Vettel or Räikkönen break contract?” “No. It’s for the team, but more of a future prospect.” Her frown deepens. “If it’s Hamilton, he won’t leave Mercedes and you shouldn’t entertain him, Nonno. You only have so much energy.” “I don’t want to take him from Mercedes. He wouldn’t be able to win with us anyways.” He groans as he thinks of how long it’s been since his team has won, and has achieved the greatness they are supposed to. “I just want your opinion, they should be here any minute.”
An uneasiness sits heavy in her stomach at how cryptic he’s being with her, something he never is, but she sits in the chair beside him. Taking his hand in both of hers and breathing a sigh of relief at the strongness still in his hands, no shakiness to be found. He was in good health, she reminded herself as they waited. He hadn’t even had a cold for three years, but still her mind worries.
“Mr. Enzo, Stella, your guests have arrived.” Anita’s voice says through the intercom. He presses the button to talk. “Please have Andrea get them and bring them back and tell him to stay as well.” “Andrea is here?” He hums, “I asked him to come. I have an idea.” She doesn’t say anything else to that and keeps quiet as she waits for whoever to arrive.
There’s a slight relief in it not being either Vettel or Räikkönen, she wasn’t keen to meet them for the first time right now, not when she had rushed home. She also didn’t want her grandfather meeting them now for the first time, so late in the year where he could catch an illness.
A knock sounds on the wooden door and she turns her head to look at it. Releasing her grandfather's hand from hers and moving to stand behind his chair. Her normal position in such meetings.
“Enter.” He calls and the door opens. “Signor.” Andrea greets, as he steps into the room, two, or rather one man and one boy following behind him with wide eyes. “I have your guests.” “Please sit, the three of you.” He tells them and they all quickly do.
Her eyes narrow as she recognises the familiar face of the man who is currently running the Ferrari Driver Academy and the just familiar face of the current F2 champion. The sight makes her want to lean down, to question why a F2 driver of all people is being allowed to meet her grandfather. A luxury he hasn’t afforded a single F1 driver since her father died other than Michael Schumacher. And even then he had won a championship first with them. But such a thing isn’t not her place, especially in front of guests, so she keeps quiet as her grandfather does as well, clearly waiting them out, letting the tension in the room build.
“Charles Leclerc.” Her grandfather says and the boy practically jumps. “You started winning in karting before you were even ten in 2005 and never stopped. A second place in Alps, then fourth in the European F3.” She watches as he winces at the reminder of what he clearly views as failures. “But you won your first year of GP3 and now have won F2. Truly impressive.” His eyes are still wide and they dart to the left before returning. “Thank you, Signor.” Her eyebrows raise at the way the Italian term leaves his mouth. He clearly had invested time in his Italian lessons. “Don’t thank me. You’ve done well for yourself. And now you have an F1 seat.” Her eyes darted to Andrea, “Nonno.” She hisses, stepping forward. “Andrea has signed the appropriate NDA’s and contracts, stella. There is no need for your worry.” This meeting seemed to be nothing but worrying for her. And suddenly the employment contract she had seen in her inbox for Andrea makes all the sense, especially since it had been sent to her directly, not cc'd.
“You will be joining Sauber this coming season. Are you ready?” “I hope and believe I am.” “And you have a team? A trainer, your own PR manager? A assistant?” Charles shakes his head, cheeks red. “I’m afraid not. I only signed the contract two days ago. I haven’t made arrangements.” “And your plans for the 2019 season? Still at Sauber?” “I only signed a one year contract with them. So I hope to stay with them if I can.” He hums and the tone if it tells her everything she needs to know and it takes everything in her to not show the horror she’s feeling. “There will be a spot open at Ferrari for the 2019 season. Show me you can handle an F1 car and perhaps it will be yours.” The three sitting opposite stare at him with wide eyes and Charles’ mouth is open, jaw dropped. “And Andrea will be your trainer. I have a good feeling about you Charles Leclerc, prove me right.” He then nods his head towards the door and the three scramble to stand and leave with rushed goodbyes.
She stands behind him for a moment before walking around the desk and flopping down in one of the seats.
“That boy is going to get destroyed.” “He is a boy to me. Barely a year younger than you, I believe.” She scoffs, “please, nonno. You have just put the biggest weight on his shoulders. Prove to me? And what if he speaks of this? Of getting to meet the great Enzo Ferrari when the man doesn’t leave his house and hasn’t met any drivers or even team principals in person since Schumacher.” “Then you will handle it, I suppose. And I will be proven wrong about the boy since he had to sign an NDA. Not a word of this meeting or this trip to Italy.” “And if people ask about Andrea? How they met? How he came to work with him?” “The academy put them in contact together. And no one will think anything of it. He is too distantly related to think that we have anything to do with it. Nor has he ever spoken of us.” His eyes soften as he really looks at her. “Everything will be fine, stella. I have a good feeling about this one.” She looks at him, worries still sitting heavy in her stomach, horror too, because god what if her grandfather had just sentenced him to forever chasing a dream he can’t have and faith in them that they are unable to deliver. She knows already that both Räikkönen and Vettel are feeling that way, their faith in Ferrari wavering if not gone. “I won’t be able to do anything to help him. Not for years.” “You will be able to help. Not as much as you will in a few years time, but you can still help. We still make decisions for the team and sign off on things.” “And if he leaves before then?” “He won’t.” His voice is quiet, but filled with unwavering faith. Faith she wants to feel herself. “He will be what our team needs to become champion and he won’t leave until he gets that.”
2018
“Vettel is not happy that he wasn’t told before about getting a rookie as a teammate.” She tells her grandfather, looking over the top of her laptop at him. “Sebastian will deal.” Enzo coughs. “And he won’t have a rookie as a teammate.” She makes a humming noise, looking at all of the articles about the announcement of Charles Leclerc joining the historic F1 team before opening her email again. “Should I cover Andrea’s costs again?” “Yes. As long as you aren’t in power with the team, I want Charles kept close.” “That won’t happen until the end of the 2023 season. You want us to pay for Andrea that long?” “Andrea is also family.” He reminds her, before lips twitch into a smile. “And there is a reason he doesn’t receive as large of a Christmas bonus as everyone else anymore.”
2020
“They want to sign Sainz for a two year deal.” He snorts, “and for what? Let me guess sponsors?” “They’re serious about this, nonno. His team has already approached us about a two year contract.” “And he can’t go to Aston because Vettel is going there for two years.” “And he’ll never go back to Red Bull. Mercedes won’t entertain the idea.” “But we are?” He groans, running a hand over his face. “God, what has happened to this team? He hasn’t gotten a single podium, a win! And he’ll hit a hundred races this year. That is who they want on the team?” “He was sixth in the driver standings last year.” “Could he handle it?” She frowns. “Maybe. We wouldn’t know until it happened. He’s older like Vettel, has more experience as well than Leclerc. But Leclerc already has wins under his belt, managed to get fourth in the standings in only his second year. He was teammates with Verstappen in his rookie year, so it’s possible he could handle it.” “A two year contract, huh?” “Two years.”
2022
“Sainz wants to be extended.” She rubs at her forehead, the email, moreso the wording was troubling. “And why should we?” “Because he finished ahead of Charles in the driver's standings last year.” “By less than ten points and due to our own team's failings. They way they embarrassed him in Monaco.” He shakes his head, the rage he felt that day watching it happen coming back. “Four podiums to one. And neither got a win.” “Who needs a seat?” “There’s rumors about Schumacher.” “No.” He shakes his head, fingers beginning to tap against his desk. “Maybe in a few seasons, but not now.” “Bottas, Guyuan, De Vries, Hulkenberg.” He scoffs at all the names. “A friend at McLaren said they’re looking to drop Ricciardo.” His fingers stop. “Ricciardo. He’d understand his role.” “And as long as we treat him better than Red Bull did or how McLaren are, we’d have him.” “Why do they want to drop him?” “Underperforming. Norris is doing better.” He looks at her disbelief. “Please tell me that’s a joke.” She shakes her head. “He gave that fucking fake British team their first win in a decade!” “He’s older and despite his knack for giving good development advice, they’re ignoring it for Norris’.” He rubs at his forehead. “Write him down. Maybe we can get a talk with him before another team manages to snatch him up. Who else?” “It’s all reserves and formers now. There’s Piastri who's serving as Alpine’s reserve this season, wouldn’t shock me if they’ve already signed a contract with him for the next year but haven’t announced it though. We or Haas really has Illot still under contract as a reserve.” He shakes his head. “Leave him in Indycar for a few seasons. Might try him in 2024 when we’re looking for another driver.” She nods, writing his name down with 2024 beside it. “And Piastri?” “No. Alpine probably has something signed with him already. They’d be stupid not to.” “That leaves Ricciardo and Sainz.” He frowns. “Reach out to Ricciardo. We nearly had him for 2021, we should’ve taken him.” “Understood.”
As she begins to type out her email to Ricciardo’s team and she wonders how Blake will react to seeing an email for Ferrari, Enzo speaks.
“How is Charles?” “Nonno.” “I can’t ask?” “You are fishing.” She replies, not looking away from her laptop. “But he is good. Ready for the season to start.” “Hmm. And will he be coming for dinner?” She pauses her typing, looking at him. “Are you asking him to come to dinner?” “I’d like to meet the boy that has made my granddaughter so happy.” “Oh, nonno. It is not a boy that is making me so happy. Just you. You have been in better spirits for the last year.” She laughs. “And isn't it interesting that it was only when you started seeing him that both of our spirits rose?” Her eyes narrow. “Don’t make me take the Leclerc name.” It’s a high insult to the Ferrari name, one that her grandfather has made sure that she knew better to even joke about, but he doesn’t react with his fiery temper, just smirks. “It’s serious enough for marriage but not for you to bring him to meet me?” Blood rushes to her cheeks. “You have met him.” “When he was a boy.” He counters. “One you had distaste for.” He reminds her not that she has ever forgotten.
She had told Charles on their third date about it, watching as his mouth gaped at her, unable to believe that the boy he was at the age could be distasteful. Now, he likes to tease her about it. About how she didn’t like him but as soon as he left the room and she was issued the challenge of making sure he got to Ferrari she did.
“I haven’t met him since. I haven’t met him as your partner. And we both know that you’ll be taking each other's names.” “It is too early to say that.” She tells him, voice quiet. “But I’ll message him. He’ll love to meet you.”
2023
“This is ridiculous!” “I told you that this would happen! You put your hopes and dreams on a boy and look at what has happened!” “I did no such thing!” “You did! And I told you that you would ruin him. That he would lose faith just like the ones before and now look.” She waves a hand at the TV in front of them, playing the lowlights of the season. “He didn’t just go to that meeting with Red Bull and then shut it down like he has before, he entertained it.” She scoffs, shaking her head. “He should’ve left us for them when they first fucking offered.” “You do not mean that.” “Look at what our team has done to him! Look at what you have done! I have no power there and barely do you. I get to vote on what drivers we add to the team, but it is one vote, against six others. Same goes for the general direction of the car, which we both were out voted in. And that is it, that is my power! I don’t get to give him the Ferrari team he deserves, that we deserve, because you signed it away when my father died until I turn twenty-seven!” She turns away from Enzo, taking in a shaky breath, before turning back to him. “And you will not ever bring it up to Charles that he considered leaving us or if he does. Because I set up that meeting with Red Bull for him.” He looks at her resigned, saddened, but not surprised. “You would let him leave?” “I don’t let him do anything. I love you, nonno. I love this team. But it is not just Charles that they are disappointing and letting down. It is our fans, our people, our family, our legacy, me, you. Next month, I get to finally take back our families power in the sport and it is already too late for this season and nearly too late for the next. I can’t even guarantee a good first season with me in charge because of where the car is already developed too. And the upgrades.” She shakes her head. “None of it would matter with the team that is working there.”
“What do you want to do?” She looks at him, struggling not to cry, and she folds herself down in front of him, taking her hands in his. “A new structure and house. The voting can stay, but it has anonymity, we don’t talk about who is going to vote for what, only after the votes have been cast we talk, discuss, but with us having the power to veto if decisions are being made too much on outside factors like money and perceptions. Drivers who have multi-year contracts starting next season can be present for the votes, hear why we voted for what we did and even jump in on discussions if they feel inclined. We change. We have been stagnant for too long. We need new blood and beliefs.” He starts to shake his head and she squeezes his hands.
“Nonno, please just listen to me.” She pleads. “We need a complete overhaul of the team, you know it and have said it yourself. I can’t just hire Italian first, not when that has ended with us where we are now. I can offer everyone severance packages, pay for it all myself, but no more Italian first. We take who is best suited for the team and hope they are Italian. Maybe we baptize them if they aren’t.” His lips quirk into a smile. “The strategy team needs to go, PR, social media, the race engineers.” “Sainz likes his race engineer.” “Sainz also likes to say that he comes up with the strategy used in the races but as soon as they fail, he backtracks. He is a fair driver, but he needs to be retrained in PR.” “His family needs a gag order.” Her grandfather huffs. “Yes, but that is not something we can do. What we can do is get him retrained and get a new PR manager for him, same with social media. Charles will be getting the same. He needs an image refresh.” “This is what you want?” “Yes. I want to bring our team back to greatness. I already have the people I want for the team, I’m just waiting for your approval and for the next month to pass before I start sending out contracts.” He sighs, looking in pain. “Can they at least speak Italian?” She smiles, standing to press a kiss to his cheek. “They can learn and they will quickly.” Another sigh leaves him but he smiles, warm and gentle at her. “Mia figlia, la mia stella, fai quello che devi. Il mio supporto è tuo, sempre.” My daughter, my star, do what you must. My support is yours, always. “Thank you, papa.”
October 23rd, 2023
She stands facing the back wall of the room, listening as the door opens and people trudge in. She tries to count the pairs of feet she hears. She knows how many are supposed to come to this meeting, how many she asked to come, but it wouldn’t surprise her if someone let slip that the new boss, and the big boss at that, had arranged a meeting that a few people would try tagging along.
It’s the sound of the door shutting and then locking from the inside that has her turning around, giving a nod of thanks to her bodyguard, Roman, who inclines his head before retreating to the left front corner of the room.
“I see you all made it.” She says, her Italian accent barely noticeable around the English words and she can see a few faces turn confused at the English. Ferrari was Italian, they spoke Italian, had meetings in Italian. And more importantly, she was not just Ferrari, but a Ferrari. One that only three people in this room had ever met in person, and only two others had seen her face because of video calls. “Good, let's talk about the dumpster fire that was yesterday.” She can see a few faces balk at her words, but it’s Sainz’s that gets her attention. “You don’t agree?” “It was an unfortunate thing that happened to Charles, but I still ended up in P3.” “Due to a disqualification. Which is also what happened to your teammate. This also is the third time you’ve ended up on the podium due to such a thing. Let us also not forget to acknowledge that while the FIA didn’t check your car, like they should have after finding that two of four of the cars they checked had issues with their planks, doesn’t mean we didn’t.” He frowns and so does a good majority of the room. “I don’t understand.” “Your planks were just like Leclerc’s. Just barely under what they should be. But still enough for disqualification.” Eyes widen and she continues. “Not that it matters, because I won’t be alerting the FIA of such a thing. Not when the teams didn’t get enough time to set up the car because of the sprint format and I don’t think we need to give McLaren more of a jump on us.”
Walking around the room, she nearly pauses behind Charles' chair. Wants so badly to squeeze his hand, to offer him comfort or a way to get his frustrations out, but she continues until she is at the front of the room.
“The FIA won’t get rid of sprint races, but myself and a few other team representatives, will be going to them with a new sprint format for the next season hopefully or for at least starting the 2025 season. I expect both of you,” she looks at Sainz and Charles, “to voice your support. And I’m sure Red Bull, Williams, Mercedes, McLaren, Aston Martin, Alpine, and Haas, will be saying the same to their drivers as well.” “You want us to support a format that could be worse?” Charles asks, and she can see a few shakes of the head at him. “No, I want you to support one that is better. For Sprint weekends, you will have free practice one and the sprint shootout on Friday. On Saturday, there will be the sprint, followed by second free practice, then qualifying. Sundays of course will just be race day. Does that sound worse?” “No. You think the FIA will go for it?” “The FIA won’t have much of a choice. And besides next year allows each team to have more tyre’s allocated, they’ll want something extra to help burn through them to make it more interesting.”
“Now,” She lifts the lid of one of the two file boxes she has. “Leclerc, Sainz.” Both grimace at the use of their last names, but she catches a glimpse of amusement from Charles. “I have meetings with both of your management teams after this. Sainz, you’ll be getting a new PR manager, Ana. She or her assistant Val, will be with you for every event, interview, or anything else PR wise. Sometimes they both will.”
She turns her head to look at Charles. “Leclerc, you're getting an image refresh. I’m not letting a driver for this team have a vast majority of people thinking there’s nothing behind your apparently good looks.”
“Why isn’t Charles getting a babysitter?” She raises a brow at the tone and question. “Ana and Val aren’t babysitters, they work in PR. They will be retraining you. Because at the moment I could be breaking your contract right now with four races left in the season due to the public clause and if you have to ask why, you need more help than I thought.” He looks at her in shock and she can see a few people in the room shift uncomfortably. “Also concerning both of you, you both will have new race engineers in Mexico. Your previous engineers were lacking.” They both look uncomfortable with the decision but don’t say anything and she turns her attention to Fred.
“Fred.” “Ms. Ferrari.” She smiles at the title, though there’s nothing polite or happy about it. “This is your team is not?” She gestures to the drivers, the heads of different departments that all sit in the room with them. “Yes.” “Then, why am I doing your job for you and handling them?” With that she starts throwing out the severance packages onto the table. When she runs out of ones in the first box, she takes the lid off the second and just tips it over, letting them spill out.
“Severance packages.” She states, seeing some people's confused looks. “Some are effective immediately. Others will be given after the last race.” “Fabio’s name is here.” “So is Gualtieri and Cardile. They have been given generous severance packages.” She reassures. “You will meet their replacements either later today or in Mexico.” “They are heads of their departments!” “And they have failed at their jobs. As has everyone who has been issued one of these.”
“How did they take it?” “Safe to say I haven’t made any friends.” “So, it's going well.” She snorts, smiling at Charles as he enters her hotel suite. “I’m fairly certain they all would like to burn me at the stake.” Charles frowns. “Not Charles of course.” “Is he there?” “Just got here.” She confirms. “Do you want to talk to your grandson?” She teases and predictably Charles flushes. “Yes, yes. I want to make sure that he’s taking care of you, protecting you.” She rolls her eyes at the last part but passes the phone to Charles, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she does before stepping around him to her open laptop.
Leaning against the desk, she stares at the list in front of her. A list of drivers, currently on the grid, reserves, and not yet on the grid. Before the halfway point of the 2024 season she’d either have to sign contracts for one new driver or two for the 2025 season and now it just came down to who she wanted to reach out to.
A good amount of them are already on the bottom half of the page under the bolded words, not an option.
Verstappen was there, both Mercedes drivers, Bottas, Hulkenberg, Magnuessen, Alonso, Ocon, Stroll, Perez, Norris. She chooses not to look too closely at the fact that she doesn’t have Piastri there. She’d buy out a contract if need be and she knew Mark. If she proved that Ferrari could improve and be a winning team under her, he’d be willing to help her break a contract or two.
She jolts when a pair of lips presses themselves to her forehead, her phone being set down next to her laptop. “Your list is interesting. No Antonio?” “He’s a good development driver.” She says, typing his name out under not an option. Charles hums, sitting in the chair and then pulling her onto his lap, carefully pulling her legs to hangover the arm of the chair. “You have two Indycar drivers under possible.” She shrugs. “I’ll watch closely as the first few races go for them. They only have contracts for the 2024 season.” “Not that it would matter.” She grins, huffing out a laugh. “Not that it would matter.”
She watches as he peers at the list, his hands rubbing at her calf. “You have a lot of no’s.” His eyes narrow as he scans it again. “Mick, Ollie, and Vesti all under maybe?” “Vesti’s done well for himself, Mercedes is just going to waste him. Especially if he’s any good in an F1 car. Bearman’s had a strong first season in F2. Schumacher,” She hesitates. “I’m not keen on the idea. Especially with two seasons out of F1, but there is the opportunity to put him in Alfa Romeo.” “But Valterri and Zhou.” “Valterri knows he won’t be promoted back up. He’s doing good for being at Alfa Romeo, but he also has a lot of other ventures and pursuits. I’d like to keep him for another year or two after for development if I can.” He hums, “Alex and Schwartzman?” “Albon is sticking to Williams like glue. Which is understandable after Red Bull, but there’s hope.” She doesn’t mention that she’d think that he’d be a good teammate for Charles. “Schwartzman is already under contract with us. Just as a reserve and for testing, but who knows.”
He presses a kiss to her shoulder and he reads the top of the list, the possibles. He had only skimmed it before, but now he gives it his full attention.
“I’m on here.” “Yes.” “But,” “You don’t have an extension with us. You are only contracted with us for this next season. And as much as I’d like to keep you as would the fans and nonno, we haven’t proven that we deserve to have you here. I have to keep my options open that there will be two drivers I have to sign for 2025.” “I don’t like it.” He tells her, frowning. He didn’t like to think about not being at Ferrari, at the possibility of it, especially now with her at the helm and already making drastic changes. He didn’t know yet if those changes were good or not, but it felt like they were, he hoped that they were.
Piastri, Ricciardo, Drugovich, and he blinks as reads the last name, saying it outloud. “Sargeant. You have Sargeant under possible? Not a maybe but possible?” “Sargeant would sign a contract with us in a heartbeat, no contracts to break. 2024 will be a one year for him.” “Something has been signed?” She shrugs, “it’s common sense to keep him. Otherwise they’d just be dealing with a whole other rookie.” He sighs, jaw twitching. “I don’t like it. He has only scored a point because of my disqualification.” “I know.” “He has cost them much.” “I know.” Charles pouts, “he is American.” She lets out a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “That will be your issue with him? His Americanness?” “Yes.” “Well, it’s just a possibility.” She smiles, before leaning down to press their lips together in a quick kiss. “Now, tell me out of everyone in the maybes and possibles who you’d want as a teammate.” “And what? You’ll make it happen?” “If I can give you a good season next year, I’ll do everything I can.”
He eyes the list, taking in the names he mentioned before and the few he didn’t.
Pierre would end in a dumpster fire and he was selfish enough to say that he didn’t want him as a teammate so they could keep their friendship, one so close to his heart. Lawson was an interesting idea, he had performed well for having to suddenly jump into a car. Alex would be a good teammate as well and he knew that Alex would also love the development side of things like he did.
He didn’t know enough about Drugovich or either of the Indycar drivers really. They had performed fair in F2 and were doing well in Indycar, but it was unknown. He could see them both though at Alfa Romeo. Ollie was too young to step into such a huge seat, maybe for him also Alfa Romeo in 2025 and by 2028 he’d be ready to step in and then take over a seat.
Oscar and Sargeant are both interesting for completely different reasons. He wishes that she had gotten power in the beginning of 2022 and when the Alpine drama happened, snatched Oscar up.
But there’s one name that he keeps on looking at, that’s circling in his head.
“Daniel. If I could have anyone, I’d want Daniel.”
There’s a shared pained history there and Charles knows that he took what was going to be Daniel’s seat in 2019 before Ferrari really started gunning for him while Renault took a keen interest in Daniel.
Charles could still remember around the fifth race of the 2020 season when Daniel had cornered him, looking nervous to be around him for the first time since their accidentally shared Vegas trip that made them break the ice. Daniel seemed so much smaller as he asked Charles if he’d be okay with them being teammates next season, and had seemed shocked by the relieved and happy grin Charles had given him.
She hesitates, “I never said anything, but I tried getting Daniel for 2024 and even 2023 when the rumors about McLaren dropping him started up.” “But Carlos?” “He asked for an extension, but nonno and me wanted to present a different option. But by the time I reached out, Red Bull had managed to snatch him back up. He’s only with them though for 2024. He’s free after that.” “So, you are saying?” He hopes. “I’m saying that, I’ve already reached out as of yesterday. Red Bull isn't in any hurry to get him under contract for 2025 and Blake has made it clear that Daniel isn’t signing any contracts until May or June to them and us.” “Which is enough time to prove that the team is improving.” “Yes.”
He stares at her wide eyed speechless. “What does that mean?” “If we improve?” He nods. “We sign you and Daniel until 2027.” She pauses, hesitating, but she won’t lie to him now. “We let you two battle it out at the beginning of the 2025 season. If Daniel is scoring more points, higher on the podium than you by break, you defend. We’ll ask you to let him pass if both of you can get on the podium or he has better pace and can get on it. We let him become world champion first. And it would go the other way around as well.” He rolls the idea in his mind, lets it sit in his stomach. “Daniel Ricciardo the 2025 world champion and Charles Leclerc the 2026 world champion.”
He lets them sit in the air, the idea of practically another three seasons before it could happen. Could he wait that long? Watch as Daniel got it before him? Watch as his teammate got it before him? Could he let himself be sacrificed for his teammates gain again? He thinks it over, because it is not fair for her to ask, to say, but that is what driving in Formula One is. It is not fair, with unequal machinery and only twenty spots available. To have to worry not just about your race but also your teammates depending on where the point standings are at.
But she is offering him something that he wasn’t before and with clearness, transparency. Not something that will be dropped on him in the middle of the race or as he’s about to finish lap ten or fifty. She’s telling him now what to expect and how it will go. She’s letting him know that it doesn’t matter which one is in the lead for the championship, just that whichever one isn’t when they come back from break, will be defending and he thinks now of her emphasis on the word. Not sacrificing, but defending. She wouldn’t let either of them be compromised so badly that they drop either low in the points or out of the points completely, but she would ask that they defend the other.
“I want it. Even if I do have to wait an extra year. It’d be worth it.” “And if you won in 2025 and then Daniel in 2026?” “We could trade off years, but I want it, I want that.” She smiles and there’s something sweet and dangerous about it. “Then I’ll make it happen.”
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crushmeeren · 7 months
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Bakugou/Female Reader/Todoroki
Everyone involved in this is 18+/aged up — if that bothers you then scroll on or block me.
Warnings; Female Anatomy/Pronouns, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex (double penetration), Pussy Eating, Blow Jobs, Squirting, reader gets cream pied in the end, Angst/Comfort, Cursing
Note; This is my first time writing for this pairing and I’ve wanted to for so long so I hope you all enjoy the brain food! 💜💜
AO3 Link; Miscommunications💥🍰
Word Count; 10.1k
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It’s normal when you and Katsuki argue. It’s normal when Shouto and Katsuki argue. What isn’t normal, is when you and Shouto argue. You absolutely fucking hate it when you do. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does it always leaves you with a lump in your throat and the feeling of icy fingers twisting your belly with unease. Yet, this past week or so, despite you trying your hardest to avoid having a fight with Shouto, you can’t help but burn with agitation towards the hero.
He’s told you and Katsuki, three times this week mind you, that he was going to be home from work in time to eat dinner before it was too late. Each time he’s shown up late enough that Katsuki just ended up putting a plate in the fridge for him while you two went to bed. He’s missed each night this week and the last, that the three of you are able to have a meal together. Sometimes you wake up to him crawling into the bed hours after you and Katsuki have fallen asleep. You wonder if Shouto feels a pang of sadness when he slips into the bed and notices you and Katsuki curled up together, naked, realizing he’s also missed the rare opportunity when the three of you have enough energy to have sex together. The petty part of you hopes he does.
It’s not like the three of you don’t understand that hero work has never been a job where you’re able to really get home at a scheduled time. You all understand that shit happens. It happens to Katsuki often. It happens to you as well. However lately, Shouto doesn’t even make an effort to keep his fucking phone charged! So you end up leaving irritated voicemails, not letting Katsuki do it because then it’ll really be a fight.
“Pick up the fucking phone, Shouto,” you bite, once again speaking to his damn voicemail. You’re sitting on one of the bar stools at the island in your open kitchen. The leather like material sticking to the bottoms of your thighs and it pisses you off even more. You shift your thighs to unstick them and set your phone down, screen side landing harshly onto the granite counter top. Fuck, you hope the screen didn’t crack. You pick it up gingerly and look at the screen. It doesn’t seem any more scratched than it was before.
You set it down again and lift your hands up to rub them over eyes in irritation. Truthfully you’re starting to feel really really upset at this point. Katsuki tells you not to worry about it, Shouto has always been this much of an airhead. Not to bad mouth him, but you know it’s true. He’s so smart in terms of hero work, but can be so fucking thick when it comes to relationships. You let out a drawn out sigh and try to ignore the hurt that keeps twisting your belly.
“Strawberry shortcake not answer his phone again?” Katsuki asks, voice colored with irritation. Your gaze flickers to one of your boyfriends, roaming the well defined muscles in his shoulders and back. If you weren’t so upset you’d take more time to appreciate his lean body in the moment. He’s wearing a black tank top, black sweats, and he looks as pretty as he always does. Katsuki’s standing at your stove.
You track the movements of his arm as it flexes slightly when he moves the wooden spoon around the pan, stirring the rice. He’s busy cooking a new recipe of fried rice he’s been dying to make for all three of you. It smells so fucking good and you feel second hand hurt in your chest for Katsuki. He was so excited to cook this for you and Sho tonight. You know he wont really show that his feelings are hurt though. Your lips tug into a frown at the thought and you drum your fingers on the counter top.
“No, fucking of course he didn’t,” you mumble, sounding defeated and feeling your eyes start to sting with tears. You really fucking miss him. The way Shouto’s been acting the past couple weeks has really been weighing heavily on your mind and your heart. You’ve started to question whether or not he really wants to be with you and Katsuki. If he still loves you. If he did, why would he miss out on the precious chances the three of you rarely get to spend a night in together?
Of course you’re probably being dramatic, but you can’t help it. The thought makes your chest ache, like someone shoved a fist through your solar plexus. Your body flushes hotly as you get even more worked up, heart beat picking up. It makes you feel like you can’t eat the delicious food Kat has made and you swallow around the lump in your throat, sniffling a little as you feel your eyes well up with tears.
Katsuki is either a mind reader or he heard the little sniffle you did. You actually wouldn’t be surprised if he could somehow read minds. His own belly swirls with anger realizing you’re about to cry. He pauses his movements when you both hear his hands start to crackle, he’s fucking pissed off at Shouto. He turns the heat of the stove off and he moves the pan over to a safe spot on the counter so it won’t burn. Katsuki turns around swiftly to get a look at your sad little face. Your cheeks red, eyes shiny, and you won’t make eye contact with him. He scowls, eye brows scrunching as he makes his way around the counter to stand next to you.
“Look at me, idiot,” he rumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest. You still refuse to turn your chair, not wanting him to see the expression on your face. He lets out a frustrated sound and grips the back of your chair, physically swiveling your seat so your body is facing him. He steps in between your thighs and you tilt your head downwards, chin resting on your chest. You cross your arms and sniffle again. Katsuki sighs and reaches a hand out to grip your chin.
You feel the way his calloused fingers wrap around the shape of your chin, pressing gently into the muscle as he guides your head up to look at him. You notice his fingers are slightly damp as your eyes flit back and forth when you stare into his pretty scarlet eyes. He glances down and sees the tears that have started to flow quickly down your cheeks and his sharp expression softens a little bit. He lets go of your chin.
“I’m just frustrated. Why doesn’t he want to spend time with us Kat? I don’t understand what’s going through Shos head,” you say in a watery voice, lower lip trembling. You quickly use your hands to wipe away your tears. Katsuki wraps his arms around your neck, bringing you close to bury your face in his chest. The warmth of his chest bleeds through his tank top on to your cheeks and it feels so comforting, warming the parts of your heart that had started to feel cold. You frantically snake your hands around his waist, hugging him tightly, yearning for his affection. He happily gives it to you.
“You know Shoutos head is 90% filled with hot air sweetheart. He’s not doing this on purpose, he loves both of us and he’s just been really busy lately. You know how his asshat of a dad is, pushing Sho past his limits. Trust me, things will be okay,” he says lowly, voice soothingly deep. As much as Shouto is pissing him off, he knows the dumbass isn’t doing this voluntarily. Endeavor is still an asshole. Katsuki rubs his cheek on the top of your head, feeling your soft hair tickle his skin, before placing a soft kiss near your hairline. He starts to run a hand up and down your upper back comfortingly.
“It just hurts Kat,” you say, voice cracking as your shoulders start to jolt with sobs, shaking in his hold. You don’t have any control of the frustration and and hurt spilling out of you and onto Katsuki. He shoulders it, being the strong hero for you that he always is. He holds you tight and lets you cry. The weight of it is a lot, you’ve been letting it build up for the last two weeks and you haven’t cried this hard in a long time. He squeezes you even tighter, noticing his tank become soaked with tears, it cools against his skin. He feels your exhales and lets out a soft growl of anger under his breath.
“I’m gonna kick his ass,” he says, voice sounding rough. You grip the soft material on Katsukis back and fist it with your fingers. You continue to cry for a few minutes, feeling the wet fabric rubbing against your cheeks, heart hammering and stomach clenching painfully as you get pummeled with sobs. You really do try not to get snot on his shirt. He hugs you, not complaining once, continuing to rub your back gently.
You start to feel like you’re getting lightheaded from breathing so heavily and you lean your head back to try and take deep breaths of air to calm down, hiccups pushing through every so often. Katsuki lets his grip loosen and you lean back further, dropping your hands from his back and letting them fall into your lap. He brings his hands up to run his thumbs under your eyes, wiping away stray liquid.
“Feel any better sweetheart?” he asks gently, well as gentle as his voice can be. You sniff and nod once, grabbing his hand and tugging on it, wanting to pull him forward. He goes easily, leaning down into your space, he places a hand on the counter top and the other on the top of your thigh. His fingers dig into the skin there. You tilt your head upwards, eyes feeling puffy, but your belly flutters pleasurably with warmth as Katsukis lips brush softly across yours. Both of you have let your eyes squeeze shut. You press further, firmly sealing your lips with his. He feels so soft and so warm and you feel him let out a small moan as your lips start to roll together slowly and sensually. You swallow his noises eagerly.
The kiss feels sweet, intimate, and extremely comforting as you take his affection and let it fill you up. You smooth your hands up his chest and let them rest near his collarbone. As your thumbs run over the straps of his tank top you both tilt your heads, moving yours from right to left and his the opposite as you kiss slowly, feeling his tongue swipe across your bottom lip. You whimper softly and open your mouth on the next meeting of your lips. You feel his tongue slip inside of your mouth, running against yours and licking the soft pallet on the roof of your mouth. Tingles shoot down your spine and you gasp softly, breaking away from the kiss with a wet noise. Katsuki feels his dick throb.
The two of you rest your foreheads together, chests rising and falling quickly as you catch your breath.
“Kat, I’m sorry, I don’t think I can eat anything. I just wanna go to bed,” you say, trying to will away the sting behind your eyes that you’re starting to feel again. You move your hands up to frame his face with your hands. Katsuki moves back from the embrace and you let your hands fall from his face as you chew your bottom lip. You take in his sharp features and see his cheeks are pink, his expression remaining neutral. His eyes remain the same as always though, full of love for you.
“Let me take you to bed then little love,” he purrs. You smile softly at his sweet words and your eyes widen when he leans down quickly and slips his hands under your thighs, grabbing firmly and lifting you up. You let out a sound of surprise and cling to him. Your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms hugging his neck. He walks the two of you to your bedroom and he drops you down on the bed, near the edge, letting you bounce a couple times. You move back till you’re able to lay your head on a pillow and reach your arms out for him.
“Come here Katsuki,” you whisper, waiting patiently as you see his mouth pull into a smirk. The air heats up between the two of you, not a blaze, but a low, warm smolder as he strips his tank top off. Like a fire where the wood only glows orange and red, nothing but embers left. You watch him crawl towards you on the bed, you let him strip the both of you bare. He pulls the covers over the two of you in the mostly dark room. You let him slip inside of your pussy easily. He moves sweet and slow, making love to you as the two of you are wrapped up together. You let him fill you with comfort and love, falling asleep quickly afterwards.
Later on Katsuki ventures back to the kitchen to put away the rice, contemplating what he’s going to tell the red and white dumbass when he gets home. Katsuki sits at their kitchen bar top for an hour or so, falling asleep with his chin in his hand, head snapping back up as he jolts awake.
He rubs his eyes sleepily and taps his phone to see the time. He realizes it’s getting close to midnight and he grips the counter so hard he swears it cracks. His hot temper flares and he grinds his teeth together, moving his hand away from the counter, not wanting it to explode. Katsuki leaves a very angry and colorful note for Shouto in the kitchen and goes to bed. He slips under the covers, pulling you close and relaxing slightly when you snuggle into his chest.
It must be close to 1 am when you feel a cool arm wrap around your belly, rousing you slightly from your sleep. You had been sleeping on your left side, facing Katsuki, with your right leg tucked up a little bit. Your left arm was under your pillow when Shoutos arm tugs you into his solid chest. Shoutos soft nose tickling the back of your neck. Usually you’d turn around once you feel him slip in the bed, nuzzling noses with him and trading, soft, slow kisses in greeting. You’re still more than half asleep but you still feel unsettled, hurt and you don’t turn around. You let him curl up behind you.
It’s become a habit, something the three of you do every time one of you comes home late and the other two are fast asleep. You know Shouto is waiting for it and you can tell he realizes something his wrong. You feel the arm wrapped around you squeeze a little bit tighter and can physically feel his arm get cooler in response to his emotions.
He knows you’re partially awake when you pull the blanket up and cover both of your shoulders, making sure the blanket is also tugged up on Katsuki, covering his chest seeing as he’s laying on his back. He hasn’t woken up once, he’s a heavy sleeper when he wants to be. You reach out a hand to rest it on Katsukis belly, feeling his warm skin. Katsuki unconsciously brings his own hand up to tangle your fingers together. You drift off again, feeling a bit heartbroken. The dreams you have that night are more nightmares than anything.
—————————————————————
You don’t speak to Shouto for almost two days. He tries to talk to you, he really does. He actually keeps his cell phone charged and tries to text you and call you throughout the day. He sends you cat memes and love notes but you ignore them, not in the mood to deal with it right now. The first morning you force yourself to wake up before Shouto does, heading to your hero agency early. You don’t come back till late into the night. Exhausted, bruised and skin overly hot from the use of your quirk, you tumble into your home. You know Shouto knows you’re upset because you’ve been talking to Katsuki. They definitely had a fight about it, probably even a bit of a physical one judging by the new burn marks on the wall of the living room.
You know they must’ve made up when you open your bedroom door to find them naked and entangled in bed, blanket pulled up over their waists. The soft light from the bathroom night light makes them somewhat visible in the dark. You see Shouto resting his head on Katsukis chest, arm thrown over his stomach. Your body flushes hotly and your stomach drops, twisting with hurt. You heart pulses with the negative emotion as you stand there in the doorway.
You love seeing them together but you and Shouto are still caught up in the middle of this argument. You sigh and move into the room, stripping your hero costume off, tossing the dirty clothes in the hamper. You move to your dresser and go ahead and pull on a large T-shirt and clean underwear. As you make your way into the master bathroom, using the night light to guid you, you’ve decided you really can’t be bothered to get in the shower.
Water drips down your arms as you lean over the sink to wash your face. You feel the layer of grime that comes off when you rinse it off, cupping the water from the faucet and let it run over you skin. As you bring up a fluffy towel to pat your skin dry, you look in the mirror, taking in your appearance. You look the same way you feel, as if you’ve been hit by a truck. Bags under your eyes, skin pale, a sad look in your eyes. The past couple weeks have been sitting on your shoulders heavily. You quickly look away and turn around while you brush your teeth. You stare off into space as you lean your hip against the sink, feeling the tiredness dragging you down.
Spitting into the sink you rinse your mouth and use mouthwash, pulling your hair into a bun and flipping off the light switch. You take a few steps towards your bed, but your face scrunches in uneasiness as you get close and you pause right before the side edge. You realize you can’t sleep in here tonight. Swallowing around a lump in your throat, heart beating hard and feeling like you’re going to be sick you quickly turn and walk towards the door to your room. As you reach the doorway your hear a sleep filled voice murmur your name. You freeze, recognizing Shoutos voice. He must have woken up and heard you moving around.
You don’t hear any other movement after that, just the sound of Katsukis soft snores and you think Shouto must’ve fallen back asleep. You make your way to the living room. Your eyes adjust to the dark and you’re able to make your way over to the large, fluffy sectional you have. You lay down on the side where it turns into an L.
Your grab two of the throw blankets from the back of the couch, wanting to be covered completely and you snuggle underneath, resting your head on a squishy pillow. Before you forget you quickly text Katsuki you’re out on the couch and toss your phone close by. Feeling your chest ache, wanting this whole thing to be over, you curl up into a ball, hugging your knees. You desperately just want Shouto to understand where you’re coming from. You’ll talk to him tomorrow, you think, as you close your eyes and feel tears slip out of the sides of your eyes, trailing down your face and forming a little wet spot on the couch near your ear.
——————————————————————
Shouto wakes up the next morning feeling like there’s a gray cloud looming over his head when his alarm goes off. He’s staring at Katsukis side profile, admiring his pretty face. He notices that he and the blonde are both only in their briefs and he remembers the night they had. He smiles briefly, before his memory provides him with the fact that you weren’t there. It makes him feel sad, chest squeezing like a vice as he thinks about the argument he’s been having with you. His lips turn into a frown. To top it off, it doesn’t help that he ended up being the only one out of all three of you that has to work today.
He doesn’t know how it happened. Wait, yes he does, it’s because of his dick of a father. As he contemplates whether or not he really needs this hero job with Endeavor, he realizes something isn’t quite right as he lays in your shared bed. The cool air of the room tickles the back of his neck and the baby hairs there stand straight up. Once he notices that something missing here is you, his pulse immediately stutters and kicks into overdrive.
He flips around in bed, heart jumping into his throat, seeing you’re not there and instantly he’s frantically tumbling out of bed, waking up Katsuki in the process, jostling him around. Shouto trips on the blanket when it gets trapped around his ankle as he tries to stand up. Letting out a yelp, he goes down with a hard thud, shoulder hitting the floor and he groans, rolling onto his back.
“Oi, oi! What the fuck are you doing dumbass?!” Katsuki yells, sitting up straight in the bed, hand already raised, palm sparking dangerously out of habit. His eyes wildly scan the room for the threat until they land on the his sprawled out boyfriend. He lowers his hand and his gaze narrows. He lets out a frustrated growl. Shouto tilts his head and sees Katsuki sitting up, staring down at him over the side of the bed.
His mismatched eyes widen again when he remembers what made him get up so fast in the first place. He sits up, quickly getting to his feet. He all but launches himself at Katsuki, who braces himself for the impact. Shouto grabs the other mans arms, one hand burning Katsukis skin and the other icy. Katsuki feels his lip curl up at the tight grip as he listens to Shouto whisper your name. He shakes Katsuki by his biceps.
“She’s not in the bed! What if she didn’t come home last night? What if she got hurt out on patrol yesterday and we didn’t know?” Shouto says, voice edging on panic, the left side of his face and hair starting to catch fire. Katsuki violently shakes Shoutos grip from him and pushes roughly at his chest, shoving him backwards. It forces him take a step away so Katsuki can raise up from the bed.
The damp palms of his hands make contact with Shoutos bare chest, slapping loudly. Katsuki pushes in close to him, lips pulled up into a sneer and eyebrows furrowed. He looks menacing as he shoves a finger into Shoutos chest. For the first time since their days at UA, Shouto feels a bit afraid of his boyfriend. He’s ignorantly lit a match in his partner and now Katsuki is a raging inferno. Shouto looks down, stunned at the appendage digging into his skin, unable to speak.
“Let’s get something straight here you fucking idiot. Number one, she is here, but she’s sleeping on the couch so you can chill the fuck out. You want to know why? It’s because for the past two goddamn weeks you’ve been blowing us off like we mean nothing to you and I spent the other night holding her while she cried her eyes out about it,” he growls, jaw clenching tightly as he pauses to take his finger off Shoutos chest. He starts to blow around the room furiously, leaving Shouto frozen in place.
Katsuki notices the frost trickling down the other heros arm and huffs agitatedly. The blonde angrily picks up a pair of sweatpants and whips around to stare down Shouto. “Number two, you know this shit has been breaking her heart. So you better fucking fix it, today, or you’re gonna have to face down with me and I swear to god you won’t like that. Fucking put your hair out, you’re gonna burn down the damn house,” he bites, slamming the bathroom door shut fiercely enough Shouto thinks the door frame shakes.
Feeling like Katsuki has kicked him in the back of the knees, knocking his legs out from under him, he sits on the edge of the bed. Sadness and hurt clash together in his chest and it’s all he can do to run his shaky fingers over his short hair, snuffing out the flames. He stares at where the door was slammed shut. He wasn’t even able to say anything, throat feeling like sandpaper when he swallows.
Shouto knew you were upset and he was already determined for the two of you to make up from this fight, but he didn’t know you had cried in Katsukis arms. It made his stomach roll painfully, feeling like he may throw up. Looking at the clock he notices he’s going to be late and he stands on wobbly legs. He gets ready for work silently, trying to push this whirlwind of emotions down until he can get home from work. Shouto pulls on his hero costume and if he wipes stray tears away from his cheeks in the process, nobody else would know.
The second you hear Shouto leave is when you finally open your eyes. You had heard Katsuki shouting at him and you pretended to be asleep in case Sho came out to the living room. Your adrenaline was pumping and you didn’t want to get into a blow out fight with Shouto and make him feel even worse when he has to go out into the street and patrol. He can’t afford to risk his life and be distracted out there. You know in your heart that the two of you have to reconcile today and you’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.
You love the two of them so much and as hurt as you’ve been feeling, you don’t want Shouto to be in pain either. He’s your partner, your lover and one of your soulmates. He makes your days sunnier. Shouto never fails to make you laugh, even when he doesn’t mean to. You love when he asks you about the little things that most people assume are common knowledge. There are some things he never got to enjoy growing up. You will say it until your dying breath, but one of the best parts of your life, has been being able to watch him experience everything he’s missed out on.
You sniffle and throw the blankets off, padding into the bedroom quietly. You flop down in your large memory foam bed, quick to lay in the warm spot Katsukis body left behind. You pull the fluffy blanket up over your shoulder and wait for Katsuki to get out of the shower. You need him to hold you again and let his warm love soothe your aching heart.
————————————————————-
It’s late, but not too late when you hear Shouto come through the door. Love and excitement bursts in your chest knowing he’s home early and on time. You had texted the group chat the three of you share earlier today and told him to be home in time for dinner. All three of you are going to mend this crack that’s been festering in between you and Shouto recently.
Katsuki decided to make his new version of his fried rice recipe again, wanting the three of you to actually share it together this time. Katsuki is busy in the kitchen and it smells amazing in your home. You can see him at the stove when you turn around and you can’t help but glance at him multiple times. You’ve been sitting nervously on your couch, blanket wrapped around you as the two of you waited for Shouto.
You’ve been picking at your nails waiting for him. Once you hear the door unlock you shoot to your feet, blanket falling to the couch. Despite your eagerness you walk slowly around the couch to get in Shoutos pathway. You stop a few feet in front of him as he pauses a couple steps into your home. You wring your fingers together sheepishly, giving him a shy smile and shift your weight from foot to foot.
His pretty mismatched eyes flicker all over your face, as if he’s trying to burn your imagine into his brain. He settles on making eye contact with you and his eyes light up brightly. You feel instant butterflies, much like the first time you saw Shoutos pretty face, all those years ago your first day at UA. He gives you a small smile, which in Shoutos language is a happy grin.
You can’t help it when your lips tug into a smile so wide it makes your cheeks hurt and suddenly he’s walking towards you. He’s bending over to wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly, resting his forehead on your shoulder.
“Baby,” he breathes, wearing his heart on his sleeve. “I’ve missed you little love,” he whispers, kissing your shoulder.
You make a soft sound of joy, snaking your arms around his neck and burying your face into the warm skin there. He lifts you off the ground and you squeak lightly, securing your legs around his hips. The two of you stand there, hugging for a moment. Taking time to soak in each others warmth and presence.
“God, I missed you too Sho,” you say, pressing the words into his skin, hoping they’ll stay there permanently.
You felt like you hadn’t seen him in a month and feeling his heartbeat against your chest, you felt like you could cry. You missed the subtle feeling of his two different body temperatures making your skin tingle.
“You two idiots gonna stand there the whole night or are we finally gonna try this rice I made,” Katsuki complains, hands on his hips but he has a smirk on his lips. His heart feels like it may burst, love overflowing as he watches the two of you interact after what felt like an eternity. You and Shouto both turn your heads to look at him, you giggle softly, letting your legs unwind from Shouto. He sets you gently back down on the floor before he kisses your forehead, lips lingering for a moment. You hum softly and your eyes flutter shut leaning into his chest. Not everything is fixed but even with this unspoken communication you can feel everything will be alright.
————————————————————-
After a long conversation at the dining table and some mouth watering, orgasm inducing fried rice, you find yourself in your bed, between Katsukis wide spread thighs. He’s leaning his back against a couple of pillows propped up on the headboard and your head is resting on his thigh. The soft blonde hair on his leg tickling your face. You’re on your elbows and knees, ass propped up in the air for Shouto. The hand opposite your head trails up Katsukis inner thigh. He shivers in response.
You stare at the blondes hard, thick cock, that’s he currently got a hand wrapped around. He uses one hand to pump his shaft slowly, thumb running over his tip as he threads the other one through your hair. He bites his bottom lip when you look up into his ruby red eyes. You look fucked out, cheeks pink and eyes lidded. It feels like electricity shoots down both your spines when you lock eyes.
You feel both of Shoutos hands grip your ass cheeks and spread them apart from behind. You feel the cool hair against your ass and your nails dig into Katsukis thigh eyes fluttering shut. You choke out a moan when you feel Shoutos slick, warm tongue press against your clit, flicking it gently and dragging it down through your dripping folds. You gasp sharply and raise your head from Katsukis thigh, resting your weight on your elbows in between the blondes thighs. Shoutos started licking at your clit relentlessly, dipping his tongue inside of your hole as he slips two lube covered fingers into your ass. He’s using his left hand, so the fingers are extra warm and it makes your belly fill with bubbling, heated honey. There’s an aching burn as he stretches your rim, spreading your puffy hole. The fingers in your hair tug tightly forcing you to look up into Katsukis intense eyes.
“Fucking hell, look at you, such a pretty puppy. You love when Sho eats your pussy, don’t you? Mm we’re gonna have him fuck you so well, I can’t wait,” Katsuki smirks, tugging your head forward when you jolt towards him. You curse loudly, ass clenching around Shoutos fingers as he sucks harshly on your clit.
“Sho, oh my god,” you groan, mouth dropping open. The craving in you wins out and you let your tongue flick out to lick at the head of Katsukis cock. You run your tongue over his slit, tasting him. The blonde gasps, grinning, looking smug. His hand stilling it’s motion on his dick as he grips the base of his cock. He feels himself throb against his hot palm. You run your tongue up the underside of his shaft, feeling his soft, silky skin, desperately wanting to suck him off.
You get distracted though when Shouto takes it upon himself to hum against your pussy at that moment and you almost scream. You groan, panting and your eyelids flutter but you keep them open, trying to focus on the cock in front of your face. Katsuki notices where you gaze has been occupied and smiles coyly. He taps his cock head against your soft lips a couple times, tip sticky with precum. He moans lowly at the contact and you lick him off your lower lip, savoring his taste.
“Fuck, you’re so hot, you wanna suck on my cock baby?” he coos, voice edging on mean.
“Yes, fuck Kat, wanna feel you in my throat,” you moan loudly, brushing your lips on his dick. The other hero sucks at your slick folds, rolling your clit between his lips and it’s getting hard to focus. Your head feels light and you think you may cum feeling Shouto slip a third slick finger into your ass, thrusting them shallowly. You aren’t sure when he got the lube in the first place, but it feels heavenly letting his fingers create that friction, dragging against your walls. You can’t see behind you but you can hear the slick movement of Shoutos hand pumping his cock as he eats you out and fingers your ass. The image makes your belly tighten and your clit twitch in his mouth.
“What do you think Sho? Should I let her suck my cock while you finish stretching her tight ass?” Katsuki asks cockily, grinning at Shouto over your shoulder. Shouto takes his mouth from your pussy, sitting up straight, making you whine in protest and he giggles, pressing his fingers deeper in your ass in apology. He meets Katsukis gaze excitedly, one corner of his mouth tugging into a small smile. You feel your elbows ache from holding your weight up as you listen for Shoutos answer.
“Oh, well yes, I think I would like to see that,” Shouto says softly, cheeks turning pink from arousal. His lips are shiny from eating your pussy. He hears your groan when he absently spreads his fingers in your ass and he glances down at where your face is hovering near the blondes shaft. He feels his own cock twitch at the thought of seeing your lips stretched around Katsukis pretty dick. Katsuki laughs and smirks down at you, pulling your head forward. You open eagerly as he guides his cock in. You immediately wrap your lips around his tip. You suck harshly, swirling your tongue around it and slide your lips down, taking him halfway into your mouth. You feel a pulse of arousal in your pussy as the weight of his cock sits heavy on your tongue.
“Fuck! You’re Sho and I’s pretty little pup aren’t you? God your mouth feels so good,” Katsuki rumbles, head tilting backwards, letting out a groan from his chest as he helps guide your slick, hot mouth up and down his cock. Fingers tight in your hair, his nails scratching at your scalp. It sends painful tingles down to your neck but you love it. The way your tongue rolls over his shaft as you suck him off makes his free hand clench the sheets, desperately trying not to cum yet.
Shouto is watching with all his attention as he sees the blondes cock vanish repeatedly into your mouth, your lips red and stretched tight. Shoutos been on the receiving end of your wicked mouth and he doesn’t know how Katsuki lasts so long. His stamina is impressive in everything he does. As you suck Katsukis cock, the aching burn of Shoutos fingers turn into a pleasurable one and your clit throbs. You hum around the blondes dick and Katsuki can’t help the long whine that rips from his throat. His hips jerk up and the fingers in your hair tug you down. You scramble to grip his thighs as his cock pushes into your throat.
It feels so good you can’t even think as he keeps you still for a few seconds. You feel spit drip out of your mouth and down his shaft. You don’t gag, but your airway is cut off, effectively suffocating you and you hear Shouto whimper from behind. He slips his fingers free from your ass and your wet pussy clenches from the uncomfortable sensation. Katsuki lets you go after that, fingers falling from your hair. Your lungs burn as you take in a few deep breaths, breasts heaving as your chest expands and deflates rapidly. You look up, neck stiff from being held tightly, to see Katsukis pretty face, flushed bright pink. You’re still holding onto the blondes thighs.
“Baby, please, let me fuck you,” Shouto whines desperately, placing a hand on your belly and pressing you up from between Katsukis thighs onto your knees. His large palm covers a good amount of your stomach and it makes your cheeks flush. You let him reposition you, feeling his warm chest against your back once you’re straight up. Shoutos nose nuzzles the side of your neck. His hands trace up your belly from your hips.
His slender digits tickling your ribs before he grips both your breasts, pinching your nipples between his fingers. He lets the temperatures of both hands intensify and you almost sob, the different sensations giving you goosebumps. Your head falls back on his shoulder, moaning softly as you reach a hand down to rub your clit in small, fast circles. You’re so fucking turned on and you notice how wet you are. You can’t wait any longer, pussy aching for Shoutos cock. Your heart rate picks up erratically.
“Yes Sho, my baby, I need you, I want both of you,” you say breathlessly, lifting your head and looking down into Katsukis sharp eyes, making eye contact with him. His gaze had been glued to where Shouto had a hold of your breasts. Shouto lets go of your tits and grabs your hips again tightly, groan vibrating into your shoulder. You look down to where Katsuki is lazily stroking his cock again. He smirks at you and your face heats up at his gaze. He reaches his free hand out to you.
“Well? Let me stretch that sweet ass of yours and I’ll let Sho get his dick wet inside your pretty pussy,” he purrs, cheeky grin never leaving his face. You feel Shouto rumble against your back once more. You gently take Shoutos fingers from your hips, squeezing them once before letting go. You crawl towards Katsuki, who lets go of his cock and pushes himself up more into a sitting position. He bends his knees and plants his feet, waiting for you. Getting in between his thighs, you bite your lip, smiling sweetly at him. You get into his space and quickly peck his lips once, feeling how soft he is. You love kissing him.
He smiles, a grin that shows his love and its full force is directed at you. Not many people can handle it, it’s a bit like walking on the surface of the sun. You and Shouto would happily burn to ash for him. You’re so grateful for him and how he’s supported you and Shouto the past few days. You feel overwhelmed with love, chest so warm and full of the feeling you may cry. Unable to resist you lean forward and whisper a sweet I love you in his ear. When you look back at him, his cheeks are red and he’s wearing a frown. Giggling, you wink at him, turning around. You settle a knee on the outside of each of his thighs. You find you’re able to brace your hands on the blondes knees when he bends you forward a little, a gentle hand on your lower back.
You bite your bottom lip, watching as Shouto makes his way to the two of you. You notice his face looks content and you’re positive he watched your interaction with Katsuki. He sits on his calves before you, in between Katsukis spread feet. Placing a hand on his cheek, you run a thumb over his scar underneath his eye. You grin at him, whispering how much you love him as well. His face turns red and he says it back gently. You look down and see his pretty cock standing straight up against his belly, precum leaking from the tip and he has his hands on his thighs.
“Ready puppy?” Katsuki whispers hotly, kissing the back of your shoulder. The slow simmer of fire between all of you, turns into a blaze immediately when you hear the blondes words. You nod eagerly, looking into Shoutos eyes.
“Yes Kat, I’m ready,” you whisper, shifting your body forward a bit to expose your ass even more. You hear Katsuki all but purr and the tip of his cock is suddenly running over your slick hole. Your body feels too hot and it’s like your skin doesn’t fit. Katsuki wraps a hand around the base of his cock, keeping it steady and using his free hand to guide you down by your hip until his cock catches on your hole.
Your hands shoot out to brace yourself on Shoutos shoulders, eyes widening and fingers digging into his skin. It’s a slow press at first and you whimper loudly when your rim stretches, fitting to the shape of the blondes dick. Shouto leans his forehead against yours when he sees the wince on your face, eyes squeezing shut in pain as Katsukis cock slips in past your rim and you involuntarily clench around him, gasping loudly. The blonde chokes a bit at the feeling, his cock being wrapped in your impossibly tight heat. Your pussy throbs and your ass aches, but you know the pain will soon fade to an intense pleasure.
“It’s okay little love, I’ve got you, hold my hands okay? You know you can take Kat, you’re doing so good,” Shouto whispers and coos, nuzzling your noses together. You nod, nuzzling him back and yelp as you feel Katsuki slide in even further, slowly bottoming out. You groan, eyes opening wide and Shouto takes your hands from his shoulders. He laces your fingers together and lets you brace your weight on him. You take a deep breath, letting out a shaky exhale before you start to trade slow kisses with Shouto until you’re fully seated in Katsukis lap. Once your ass brushes against his pelvis you break from the kiss and let yourself adjust to the dull throbbing sensation. Katsuki isn’t fairing much better, panting heavily, almost growling in his throat.
“Shit, your ass is so tight, you’re doing so good. I’m gonna move okay my pretty little pup? I wanna get Sho inside of you,” he murmurs in a raspy voice. You finally lean back from letting your forehead rest against Shoutos and you press your ass down into the blondes lap, pushing him in just a bit deeper.
“Yes, yes definitely, I want Sho inside of me too,” you say lovingly, looking straight into Shoutos eyes. His mouth drops open slightly and he squeezes your hands tight. Katsuki knows this is supposed to be a way for the three of you to reconnect, but he knows you and Shouto need to be face to face while you have sex. The two of you need the intimacy and reassurance that the other is there.
He knows you want Shouto slipping into your pussy and squishing you between the two of their chests as they make love to you. With determination in mind Katsuki starts to help you move up and down on his cock, holding your waist. You again brace your weight on Shoutos hands, starting to ride Katsuki to get yourself used to the feeling. Shouto watches your face, not wanting to miss any of your expressions. He kisses your cheeks and whispers sweet nothings to you.
“Please! Please, Kat, I need Sho too,” you choke out after a few moments. Katsuki exhales heavily behind you, biceps flexing as he helps you ride him. He lets out a whimper, pulling you down into his lap, holding you still.
“Sho, baby, let go of her hands for a second okay?” Katsuki tells him softly.
“Yes Kat,” Shouto replies obediently, releasing you. Katsuki is quick to pull you back against his chest, forcing your knees out from under you so your ass is firmly in his lap and your feet are planted on the bed near his. Your eyes widen when you feel the blondes hands slip underneath your knees and pull your thighs up towards your chest. He’s got you in what is basically a full Nelson at this point, minus his hands laced behind your head.
“Katsuki!” you gasp, feeling your wet pussy spread open completely for Shouto and your sure the blonde’s giving the other a good view of where his cock is nestled in your ass. You watch Shoutos cock kick against his belly as he takes in the two of you. You’re positive Katsuki is smirking at him over your shoulder.
“Well Sho? Are you gonna fuck her sweet pussy or are you waiting for an invitation?” he says, voice mocking. Shoutos face heats up and he glares at Katsuki slightly. It only makes him laugh.
“C’mon Sho, please? Show me how sorry you are and make love to me,” you purr, pushing your lower lip out at him. You let your head fall back against Katsukis shoulder and place your fingers on your pussy lips, spreading them open to show Shouto how wet you are. His mismatched eyes stare at your slick folds and his cock aches. He inches forward until he’s right before you.
He wraps a hand around his shaft and his tip accidentally slides through your folds. A whimper slips from his lips at the contact and he feels like he could cum just from feeling your warm, wet pussy like this. He can’t hold back anymore, he lines his dick up with your hole, places his hands on your inner thighs and he watches his dick disappear as he presses himself inside of you.
“Sh-Shouto, oh fuck, you feel so good,” you stutter, feeling split wide open, Shouto stuffing you all the way. He pushes in until hips press against you snuggly. He keeps letting out soft moans as your pussy sucks him in. He can feel Katsukis cock rubbing up against his through your walls and it’s driving him absolutely insane. He feels like a live wire. He’s either gonna melt or cum and he’s honestly worried he may either set the bed on fire or freeze it, his quirk trying to rise to the surface. Shouto remains in control and bites his lower lip, feeling the way he fits in your pussy perfectly snug.
You can feel Katsuki bite down, sharp canines digging into the muscle of your shoulder as Shoutos cock slides in against his. His grip gets even tighter under your knees and you’ve got your arms behind you, wrapped around the blondes neck, fingers threaded through his soft hair to hang on.
“Sho, f-fucking move, I have a limited amount of space. I’m aching, so for the love of God, move,” Katsuki growls against your skin, teeth clenched. He can feel his dick throbbing in your ass. Shouto whines, leaning down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, biting roughly on your perky bud before letting it go. A yelp escapes your lips and the sharp pain flashes straight to your pussy. It makes you clench around both cocks currently splitting you open.
The two of them groan in surprise. You moan Shoutos name lowly and your back arches trying to get him to move his hips. Shouto braces his hands on the headboard behind Katsuki, gripping the wood, fingernails scratching at it. He pulls his hips out halfway, before swiftly thrusting back in, cock rubbing against Katsukis deliciously. Every inch of you is pulsing. All three of you moan collectively. The sound so sweet when it reaches your ears.
Shouto starts a slow, rough pace, fucking into you lovingly. The slow pace is making you feel every inch his cock drags against your pussy. Your filled with a warm syrupy heat as Shouto brushes his lips against yours. Breath hot against your mouth as he trades kisses with you. He leans down further to do the same with Katsuki. He does so back and forth until his hands start to get sweaty on the headboard and you can feel Katsuki moving his hips upwards the best he can, starting to get closer to the edge.
The way their cocks fill you, dragging slickly against your walls, has you on the verge of cumming in no time at all. Shouto kissing you so sweetly and whispering how much he loves you in your ear doesn’t help. His lips tickle your ear. You balance yourself on the blondes chest by switching your hold from his neck to hanging on to Katsukis forearms and crying out softly for both of them. You feel small, squished between their chests and you’re on another planet, blissed out, smoldering in the intimacy of what the three of you are entangled in.
The knot starts to tighten in your lower abdomen. Every thrust of Shoutos causes the knot to wind up tighter. Katsuki is barely hanging on, moaning repeatedly against your shoulder. His cock is squeezed so tightly in your ass, every slide of Shoutos cock against his makes a pleasurable shiver travel down his spine. He lets go of your knees and wraps his arms around your waist, squeezing you tight. Shoutos hands immediately come off the headboard, pressing on the underside of your thighs to keep you bent in half, nails digging into your flesh.
“Fuck, fuck, my sweet puppy, Sho, I’m gonna fucking cum,” Katsuki says, voice wrecked as he lifts his head from your shoulder to look at Shouto. The two of them lock eyes and Shouto notices that the blondes eyes are half lidded, his cheeks rosy and he nods leaning his weight further on you, squishing Katsuki under you. You feel your back sticking against Katsukis overheated chest, his heart racing. You’re all sweating now, hanging on as Shouto moves his hips quickly now, want to push you both over the edge. The sound of wet skin smacking together rings throughout the room.
“Ah! ah, hah-nnngh! Sho! Just like that, please, oh fuck I’m gonna cum too, please Katsuki,” you wail, begging both of them, the change in angle of Shoutos hips hitting your sweet spot and pushing you up the mountain towards the peak of your orgasm. Katsuki was already about to cum and within the next few thrusts from Shouto, all of a sudden his arms tighten around your waist, his hips jerking upwards. Katsukis balls tighten and he stills. Gasping loudly and letting it out in a low moan as you feel his dick pulse, filling you with his warm release.
“Katsuki you’re so pretty, I love the way you cum,” Shouto whispers, unable to look away from his boyfriends mesmerizing face. Shouto is panting, fucking into you roughly as the blondes red eyes stay locked on his. Katsukis jaw hangs open as his dick twitches a couple more times in your ass, letting the last of his orgasm flow through him, before he deflates, letting his forehead bury into the side of your neck.
“Sho please, I wanna cum, please,” you whine softly, almost tearing up when he looks at you. He leans forward placing his forehead on yours again, trying to get as close as he can, as if he wants to be inside of your skin completely.
“Oh yes, fuck my sweet, let go princess, I wanna feel you cum around my cock,” Shouto says lowly, blunt as always. You nod, letting out a choked sob as you feel one of Katsukis hands leave your waist and slide down to rub quick, small circles into your clit. The slick from your pussy making his fingers slippery as they massage your swollen bud. Your mouth opens into an O shape and you can’t think straight any longer. It’s so hot in the room you know it’s Shoutos fault but it just adds to the intensity. Thank God Katsuki has good control over his quirk.
The blondes fingers circle your clit at the same time Shoutos cock bullies your sweet spot just right and it sends you flying high. The knot in your belly releases and you scream their names as you cum, limbs tingling in warm, syrupy pleasure. They don’t fucking stop, pushing you past the point of oversensitive. Your have no time to recover, eyes widening as you know you have less than 10 seconds before you’re gonna cum again, but this time there’s a threatening pressure on your bladder and you know exactly what it means. You’re squirming in their grip and trying to get Katsukis hand away from your clit by gripping his wrist but it doesn’t work.
“Sho, Kat! Shit! I’m gonna squirt-please!” you cry, trying to move but it’s too late, the others ignore you, knowing you love it. You heart hammers and all of sudden your back’s arching and your legs are shivering under Shoutos grip. You feel the first pulse of your orgasm wash over you and your holes squeeze them both. Katsuki quickly moves his hand from your clit as you squirt hard. The warm liquid splashes on Shoutos lower belly and that fucking pushes him over the finish line.
Watching Katsukis face when he cums, feeling your pussy hug his cock so tightly and your warm release that covers his belly, it’s too much. He fucks all the way into you, hips staying in place as he cums. Sticky, warm ropes of his orgasm fill your pussy. He moans softly and squeezes his eyes shut. You’ve started to come down for your own orgasm and you hear Katsuki breathing heavily. You frame Shoutos face with your hands and pull him closer, kissing him firmly. He moans into your mouth, dick twitching once more and you roll your tongue over his before letting him go. Lips parting with a slick sound. You bite your tongue and smile adoringly at him. Shouto kisses your nose swiftly and you giggle.
“That was fucking hot,” Katsuki rumbles, snorting in amusement. You laugh in agreement and wince, feeling your hips aching from being stuck in this position. Not to mention how sore your ass feels. You place your hands on Shoutos chest, pushing slightly, wanting him to move. You call his name softly and give him a pointed look when you get his attention. His eyes open wider and he smiles softly at you, realizing you probably want out of this pretzel like position.
“Sorry little love,” Shouto teases, letting your thighs down and biting his lower lip as he slips his half hard cock out of your pussy and scoots backwards to sit on his calves. He looks exhausted, but happy. You groan in relief, hips feeling infinitely better as you wiggle on Katsukis lap. You hear the blonde moan, smacking the side of your hip in a warning.
“Oi, you cheeky little pup, get off my lap, my legs are fucking falling asleep,” Katsuki says, teasing you. You laugh and slide off his lap. The sensation always strange as your ass feels empty. You flop down on the mattress next to the blonde. He immediately stretches his legs out, his knees cracking and he makes a content sound. Shouto lounges in front of him, belly and cock glistening from your orgasm and you blush a little bit, feeling embarrassed of making such a mess. Fuck you shouldn’t find that so hot. He just smirks when he catches you looking. You swallow, clearing your throat, quickly standing up from the bed, feeling their releases starting to drip from you. You love having sex with them but the aftermath is disgusting.
“Can we all take a shower please? I feel gross and I want Sho to heat the water like he usually does,” you say, starting to head towards your master bathroom. You pass by Shouto on the way, who’s sitting near the edge of the bed, and you run a hand over his short hair.
“Yes princess,” Shouto replies happily, hopping off the bed. Katsuki snorts but also makes his way to his feet.
“You’ve just got us both wrapped around your finger don’t you?” Katsuki smirks. You laugh, knowing it’s completely true. As you continue your path you feel a tug in your chest, feeling like you physically needed to say you’re sorry again. Even if you did spend over an hour hashing it out over Katsukis fried rice earlier. You stop in front of the bathroom door and turn around to meet their gazes. Your boyfriends pause, Katsuki raises his eyebrow questioningly. You grab each boys hand, lacing your fingers with theirs and look up at them. You focus on Shouto first.
“Sho, I just want to say again I really am sorry we got into this fight, instead of just talking it out in the first place.” Squeezing Shoutos fingers you turn your head, looking over at Katsuki. “Katsuki I’m sorry for dragging you into the middle and thank you for being our rock during this. I love you both more than anything and I’m so happy everything’s okay again,” you say shyly, glancing at both of them. Your cheeks turn red as you see they both are wearing a grin that could melt ice.
“Of course baby, you know we love you too.” Katsuki smirks, squeezing your hand.
“I’m saying sorry again too, I was a dick. I promise I’ll communicate better with the two of you,” Shouto says, tugging you forward into a hug and Katsuki huddles in close. You’re squeezed between two sweaty, sticky chests and you squeal, returning the embrace briefly before breaking free.
“Okay okay! Let’s go shower, you’re both nasty,” you giggle turning to run into the bathroom and Katsuki smacks your ass. He smacks Shoutos ass for good measure. You laugh when you look over your shoulder and you see Shouto frowning at the blonde whining about how that hurt. The two end up following you into the shower, all of you able to fit comfortably in the large area. As you let Shouto wash your hair, scratching your scalp soothingly and you watch Katsuki close his eyes when he lets his hair get soaked under the shower head you can’t help but smile. They’re your boys and you’ll never let anything tear you apart, especially not a damn uncharged cellphone.
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oh-stars · 3 months
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Recognition
Love is showing up when someone doesn’t ask.
a @steddielovemonth prompt | 1257 words | CW: N/A | Rating: G
“What time will you be home?” Eddie asks, perched on the couch like a bird, elbows on his  knees and sitting on his heels, toes straining under his weight. He feels like a little gremlin, body needing a way to expel all the energy his boring day off built up while Steve’s been at work. 
Steve sighs and adjusts his tie in the mirror by the door. “If all goes well, eight?” 
Eddie groans and falls back, limbs flailing. “If they expect you to go to school after hours, they should at least pay you,” he says, face squished into the fabric. It’s miserable being on different schedules. He’s been working at the plant until the construction is done on his shop, which means weird hours and being completely off rhythm with Steve. He barely sees the man! 
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Steve huffs as he smooths down his shirt, walking towards him. He carefully bends over to kiss Eddie’s pouting lips, laughing at him. God, Eddie’s so glad this man is his. He’s too precious to let go. “I’d stay if I could,” Steve says softly. “You know I hate going to these things.” 
Eddie sighs, giving him a small smile as he touches up the few strands of Steve’s hair that were betrayed by his hairspray. “I know,” he says. “I could always come with you.” 
Steve shakes his head, cheeks pink. “Thank you, but you, uh, really don’t want to go to a boring PTA meeting. All they’re going to do is fight over which classroom should get the crayons.” 
“I’d go for you, Steve,” Eddie says. He sighs again and pushes Steve away. “Go so you can get back.” 
“I love you,” Steve says, stealing another kiss before he finally stands up. 
“Love you too,” Eddie says, smashing his face back into the couch. “I’ll be here, rotting away until you return, my sweet knight.” 
Steve shakes his head and grabs his wallet and keys off the coffee table. Then he’s gone, with the rumble of the Beemer and the faint sounds of David Bowie announcing his departure. 
Eddie lasts a whole three minutes before he’s shooting up off the couch and pacing around the living room as he thinks of something he could do to occupy his time. He’s done about as much housework as he could manage for the day, he doesn’t think he could practice anymore today or write at all with how depleted his creative juices feel, and he knows nothing good comes on TV on Tuesdays in early January. 
That’s how he ends up piddling about Steve’s desk. Steve keeps all his papers that need to be graded meticulously organized, with the ones that are fair game for anyone to grade (aka the ones with scoresheets) in the blue folder. On days where Eddie’s brain was too much, when he couldn’t even look at his guitar without feeling pain or pick up his pencil to be creative in any fashion, he needed something to do to get the excess brain energy out. Robin’s much the same way, so Steve started setting aside his pop quizzes and multiple choice tests in the blue folder for either of them to grade if they needed. Otherwise, he’d get to it eventually. It’s mindless enough to calm their brains, they feel good helping Steve, and it helps give Steve more time to focus on the essays and presentations that need more time to be graded. It’s a win win all the way around. 
The blue folder isn’t as full as normal, but there are a few worksheets Eddie can take care of for Steve. He reaches for the sticker book and the purple pen (Steve’s signature grading color) in the mug Wayne gave him that’s an apple with a little worm for a handle that he uses as a pencil cup. That’s when he sees the PTA flyer. It’s jam-packed with information and minutes from the last meeting, but in big, bold letters at the bottom of the flyer, Eddie reads:
Join us to honor this year’s Teacher of the Year, Mr. Steve Harrington, eighth grade English. 
Eddie puts down the blue folder, the pen, and the flyer. He’s still for exactly one minute before his body goes into flight or fight mode. Within ten minutes, he’s dressed in his nice date clothes and his hair is tamed back into a tight bun, threatening to snap the band. 
Time crunch or not, he drives like a bat out of hell. He has plenty of time to get to the school, they live close enough, but he needs to make a few stops first. All in all, he gets there right as the principal is starting the meeting. 
He tucks himself in a corner in the back, watching the whole thing patiently. The problem is, he can’t really see Steve. Eddie cranes his neck and bounces on his toes, trying to find a way to make it to one of the seats in the center of the auditorium, closer to the stage. 
His opening comes after the chorus does a performance, when the parents at the front scurry their students away before the meeting can continue. First off, rude, but it works in Eddie’s favor. Steve’s award is next and Eddie isn’t missing this. 
Eddie slips into the front row as the principal starts shifting gears, whispering to the vice principal as the crowd settles. 
She announces Steve to a polite applause, but that’s just not good enough for his Steve. 
His palms ache with how hard he’s clapping, just shy of letting out a loud ‘whoop’ – and he’d do it if it wasn’t for the pretty way Steve’s face and ears are pinkening up. Their eyes meet as Eddie beams. 
“Hi,” he mouths, trying so hard to not vibrate out of the seat. 
Steve’s smile softens as he gives a wave of appreciation to the crowd, eyes darting back to Eddie. As the principal sings Steve’s praise and when she hands over the microphone for Steve to say a few words, Steve’s eyes never leave Eddie’s. It isn’t until a few of his students get up to speak that Steve finally looks toward the speaker, his shy smile turning into one of pride. Eddie knows he could care less about the words themselves (it’ll be later tonight that Steve will have a crisis and finally let the kind words sink in, where he’ll cower into Eddie’s body and panic over how much these kids trust him), but rather seeing how brave his kids are for speaking to a crowd this big and doing it so well. 
The award is the last part of the meeting, so after another round of applause, everyone is dismissed. Eddie jumps up to meet Steve at the bottom of the stage. 
“You didn’t have to come,” Steve says as he jumps down. 
“I wanted to,” Eddie says. “I’m proud of you,” he adds as he bumps their shoulders together. 
“I’m just doing my job–”
“Stop,” Eddie says kindly, “you deserve this.” He grabs Steve’s hand and gently tugs him toward the exit. “C’mon, I’m taking you to dinner to celebrate.”
“What about my car?” 
“I’ll drive you to work tomorrow.”
Steve’s blush is even stronger up close, but he doesn’t fight Eddie. And it’s an absolute privilege to watch as Steve gets all shy again when Eddie presents him with flowers once they’re at the van, stammering his thanks as Eddie kisses his cheek swiftly. 
--
Ao3 Link
Thank you @lady-lostmind 💜
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onlyhuis · 1 month
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late night talking
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member — minghao x f reader genre — angst, idk if there's enough fluff for this to count as hurt/comfort but the ending is sort of happy ? word count — 2.1k synopsis — the best and worst conversations always happen at 1am. warnings — reader is very drunk and very very insecure, lots of crying, lots of internal back & forth, unreliable narrator moment, refers to reader as girlfriend/my girl/etc., idk if i'm missing anything else but lmk if i am notes — this is an old fic that i never really intended to be released but @onlymingyus and @wooahaeproductions convinced me otherwise. sorry this is not at all what i normally post lmao i swear don't write like this often i just found this in my drive that i wrote when i was in a very shitty mood. we will return to your regularly scheduled smut programming soon i promise lmao! leave a comment in the reblogs or send an ask if you enjoyed this? idk i am nervous to post this pls don't perceive me too much
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you're ugly when you're drunk.
“hao?”
your voice rings throughout the house, the sound shaky and quieter than usual.
he wouldn't even have known you were home if he hadn't heard your friend's car pull up minutes ago, bright headlights flashing through the bedroom window. he wouldn't have known, if he wasn't already worried sick at you being gone so long and consuming an unknown amount of alcohol. he should've been there with you, but too much was riding on the deadline for his students’ grades that had to be finished before midnight. any other day he would've been by your side the whole night, a steady hand on your arm for balance and a sharp eye on your glass just in case. he loves playing the role of protective boyfriend, letting his girl do whatever she wants because he'll always be there to watch over her. but he couldn't do that tonight, and it tears him up inside.
he hears your trudging footsteps down the hall, soft footfalls signalling your approach as you drag yourself towards the room. he pretends not to hear; he doesn't want to make a big deal out of this and embarrass you.
“you're home early,” he comments with a chuckle, but his sarcasm is lost on you in this state. it's well after 1 in the morning, and you tilt your head in confusion at his words, brows deeply furrowed.
“what— are you working on?” you ask after a moment, focusing all your energy on not stumbling over your words. 
you know how drunk you are, he knows how drunk you are, but even now you're still putting on an act. you hate feeling stupid in front of him, and right now you couldn't feel any stupider. the worst part is that you feel as stupid when you're sober as you do right now, but you couldn't tell him that.
he pauses, choosing his next words carefully as he surveys your current state. he can't risk hurting your feelings, especially in such a vulnerable headspace.
“grading finals,” he decides on. not too detailed to confuse you, not too simplified to make you feel stupid, just enough to make you feel involved.
distantly you feel your eyes welling up with tears. you don't know why, but at the same time you know exactly why. you're never good enough compared to him, not when you come home drunk in the dead of night, and he never does. not when he's so good at everything he touches, so talented and beautiful and perfect, and you're… not. 
he deserves someone at his level, an artistic genius like him who can help him with his work. someone with an eye for his paintings, someone smarter, someone prettier, someone who can keep him on his toes. someone who won't drag him down and burden him with your obvious lack of skill and your quality of being so embarrassingly lightweight that you need to be supervised at all times. 
“i’m sorry,” you finally muster. you can't find the words to explain what you mean, but you hope he's able to sense your sincerity.
“what for?” he asks. his voice is softer now. 
you hate it when he uses that voice. he's talking down to you, talking like you're a child and he has to explain everything to you in the gentlest way possible because you aren't capable of handling the truth.
you love when he uses that voice. sometimes he can be so blunt it almost feels isolating, but when he talks to you like you're a child in that sweet, gentle, kind tone you feel like everything will be okay. he can soften himself for you, drop his straightforward persona around you and be the tender man you know he's capable of being. 
you lift your eyes to his computer screen and the feelings you've been struggling with float back into view. “i'm sorry,” you repeat, voice cracking despite the effort you put in to stop it from breaking. it's all you can say.
you don't notice when the tears overflow, bursting from your eyes without a sound. you're embarrassing, you're an idiot, standing in front of him with red eyes and hunched shoulders as tears stream down your cheeks. you don't even feel them fall.
if he knows what you're trying to convey with your tearful apologies, he doesn't mention it. 
of course he knows, how could he not when he's so astute with everything? you suck at keeping things to yourself. 
of course he doesn't know, why would he take the time out of his busy schedule to care about how you're feeling? you're not worth his energy.
the moment seems to stretch on for eternity, standing in front of him. you don't know why you started dating in the first place; he doesn't have the time, you're too annoying, too clingy, too affectionate. standing in front of him, you don't feel anything. you just feel cold.
you turn to drag yourself out of the room, deciding that you've embarrassed yourself enough by now. you don't know where you'll go or what you're doing, probably to pour yourself a glass of water and try to sleep on the couch. obviously he won't want you to sleep in his bed when you’re like this, why should he? you aren’t deserving of that privilege.
but then you feel a warm hand on your wrist, gently tugging you back towards him. you lose your balance, stumble over your feet, fall onto his lap. you're mortified, barely able to get another “sorry” out before trying to stand again on wobbly legs. you shouldn't be here. you're so aware, so painfully conscious of your weight on him, every ounce of energy you have left fighting to keep yourself from annoying him even further but it feels like it's too late. everything that comes from you is too little, too late.
“no,” he says. his tone is still that soft, sweet sound, but his voice is firm and you don't try to get up again. “we can talk tomorrow,” he says as he begins to run his hand along your back, and you hate yourself for the way you instantly melt at his touch. “just… relax. calm down.”
your body slouches against his chest, feeling like a puddle on his lap, head tucked into the crook of his neck whether you meant to or not. your legs dangle limply off his lap, arms wrapped loosely around the back of his chair as he holds you.
“it's okay,” he says simply, still stroking his hand along your back in small, soothing motions. “it's okay.” he repeats the words, maybe to convince himself but mostly to convince you from having a breakdown. even now when he's treating you so delicately, your brain won't let you rest: he's probably scared of you, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean any of it and he's using whatever means necessary to stop you from turning hysterical or even violent. of course it doesn't mean anything to him. 
“how much did you drink tonight, baby?” he asks, and you know you should take that as judgmental but you don't have the energy left anymore. you don't note the twinge of concern in his voice, you can't see the look in his eyes as he gazes down at you.
“a little— a lot,” you answer, somewhat truthfully. the real truth is that you lost count. you weren't trying to get drunk, but one turned into two turned into ten and before you even knew what you were doing a car was dropping you off in front of your house.
he shifts his legs for you to sit more comfortably on his lap, and as much as you want to fight it you don't have the strength to. “do you want to go to bed?” he asks gently. “or do you want to stay up with me?”
“don't… want you to go to bed ‘cuz of me,” you mumble against his neck. god, his skin is so soft and warm. you couldn't move your body right now even if you tried. “not your fault.”
“what kind of guy would i be if i didn't take care of my girlfriend when she needs me?” he asks. “i can put you to bed if you want. it's alright. it's late anyway.”
“it's not– your job,” you manage to reply, and his hand on your back stops for a second.
“it is my job,” he says softly. he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “i'm sorry if you feel like i haven't done that.”
“please, don't— no sorry,” you choke out as fresh tears prick at your eyes. “it's my fault. i'm sorry. it's my fault.”
he holds you tighter, both arms wrapped around you on his lap now. “it's not your fault,” he says in that same firm but gentle voice. “you haven't done anything wrong at all. it's alright, baby, i promise. you don't have anything to worry about. why are you sorry?”
“i don't know,” you mumble. your hand clutches at his chest unconsciously, balling his t-shirt in your fist. “i dunno. i love you. i dunno.”
“i love you, too,” he says after a beat. the tears, the drunken outburst, he just lets it all happen. without a word of complaint. despite the voices in your head fighting to convince you otherwise, he never says a single negative thing to you.
you know he's not normally like this. with everyone else he's polite, unemotional, reserved. he's never vulnerable. which is why you're so confused right now.
“why?” you slur, still grasping onto hope.
he hums in questioning, nudging you to elaborate.
“why are you like this to me?”
but now he's the one who's confused. “like what?”
you pause, and the room goes quiet for a moment, the only sound your shallow breaths against his chest. “nice.”
for all his knowledge, this time he's actually lost. “why would i not be nice to you?”
“i don't deserve it.”
he shifts again, pulling you closer to his chest as he starts to run his fingers through his hair. “of course you do, baby.”
“you don't deserve me.”
he stops again, this time in shock. “hey. that's not true.”
“is too true,” you say. your eyes are closed and you can't help the frown overtaking your face. “you should have somebody you deserve. it's not me.”
he just sighs, and you feel his chest expand beneath your cheek at the deep breath he takes. “i love you, baby. not anyone else. you'll feel better in the morning, and we can talk then. but i'm not mad at you, okay? there's nothing wrong. everything's okay.”
you try to mimic his sigh, but the angle you're laying at on his chest and the alcohol in your system makes it hard to breathe deeply. 
“do you want to keep sitting with me?” he asks. he knows how much you like the sounds his keyboard makes, the quiet tapping as he enters grades and types comments to his students about things you could never fathom to understand.
your eyes stay closed and your head doesn't move. “yeah,” you murmur softly.
he settles back into his chair, you curled up on his lap. he's not doing much, he's finished the worst of it and now just entering numbers. he glances down at your figure, almost asleep on him, and he feels an ache in his chest. 
every emotion feels amplified to you right now, but if it took getting blackout drunk for you to finally say it then it must've been weighing on you for a long time coming. he wonders how long you've felt like this, felt inadequate compared to him, and it makes him pause. it was never his intention. when you're awake and sober and hopefully not massively hungover, then you can talk, and he can make this right.
he loves the person snuggled against his chest, loves the feeling of you comforted and protected by him, and he'll do anything to make sure you know that. he'll do anything to let you see yourself the way he sees you. above all the worries he has about you, he knows one thing for sure.
you're cute when you're drunk.
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i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!
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lazycats-stuff · 6 months
Note
Could you do batman x son reader, where the reader struggles with an eating disorder. Maybe reader faints on a patrol or maybe he just trys to hide his Ed behaviors (like skipping meals, over exercising, purging, ect...) from the family, but one day the family just figures it out.
I completely understand if you don't feel comfortable writing this. You're writing is just really comforting to me so I thought I'd give it a shot. Have an awesome day. You're writing is amazing. Remember to take care of yourself first
Alright... I'm not uncomfortable, but I don't want anyone getting triggered by this or have someone relapse and fall back into the disorder. I had to be in the right mindset to write this so my apologies for the wait. Take care of yourselves everyone too.
Summary: (Y/N) is struggling with an eating disorder. The family figures it out.
Warnings: symptoms of eating disorder, EATING DISORDER, read with precaution and on your own risk!
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(Y/N) has been struggling for a while now, but he made sure to hide it from his family. Nobody needed to know what he has been struggling with. (Y/N) went to the extreme lengths to make sure that his family didn't find out about his problem with food.
He knew that they would be all over him if they found out. He struggled with food for about a while now. He hated the way his body looked and he just wanted to have a perfect body.
It has started with over exercising. Even after everyone was done, (Y/N) would do it until he could barely walk back to his room. He did everyday and when just that didn't give the results that he needed, he started skipping meals. The skipped meals were normally dinners, saying that he was full from lunch.
He didn't do it often, he didn't want to raise any suspicions with his family. If he did anything that would raise suspicion, they would be all over him and they would probably bench him from the patrol. If that would to happen, then he wouldn't be happy.
If there was one thing holding him together, it would be patrol. The only thing.
He often found himself looking at the mirror, looking at his body. He noticed his hair and skin were dry beyond belief. He noticed that he got sicker more often, which didn't happen before. He always had strong immunity.
His teeth got sensitive and that was one of the reasons why he skipped meals sometimes. It has gotten to the point that he got dizzy whenever he stood up.
All of this was getting out of hand, but (Y/N) didn't see it. He has only one goal in mind and that is a perfect body. Something that doesn't exist. There is no such thing called a perfect body. There is no perfection either.
There is nothing in this world that is perfect. Nothing.
Other problem was the lack of concertation. He couldn't focus on anything for longer then 15 minutes before he just had to drop everything and just rest. It was difficult, considering that he is in a family full of detectives who solve cases daily.
Speaking of rest, he had problems too. Sure, being in a family that goes out every night to fight criminals and protect people of Gotham will mess up your schedule to a certain degree. But add an eating disorder to the mix and you have a recipe for disaster of a sleeping schedule.
Not to mention the control of his emotions. He found himself often having very extreme mood swings sometimes, but over time he learnt to control his emotions better. Somehow he managed to do it. But he didn't do certain things with his brothers and dad anymore.
He didn't have energy to do anything he used to do anymore. Only for patrol when adrenaline kicked in. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug when it came to patrol and some other things. But the fact is that adrenaline could only go so far.
Of course, there were close calls when it came to his family, but he managed to steer the attention away, keeping his disorder a secret for longer. If only (Y/N) knew what was going to happen soon.
Everything came to a head when all of them got back home from patrol. (Y/N) was freezing in his suit. Despite the suit being good at both heating and cooling, (Y/N) was shaking quietly. He could hear everyone talking, but he felt dizzy.
He blinked a few times before everything went black right before his eyes. Bruce has never turned around faster and Damian tried to catch him, but couldn't. Bruce ran over and quickly picked his son up, calling for Alfred to prepare the medical area.
Jason, Tim and Dick watched horrified from the side. As Bruce ran with him, he noted how light he was. Extremely lighter. Significantly. But that didn't matter now and Bruce didn't piece it together yet. Alfred watched as Bruce laid his grandson down.
Bruce had to step out to let Alfred do his thing. The boys were waiting patiently to hear what has happened to (Y/N).
" B, what's happening? " Jason asked and Bruce shook his head.
" I don't know. He just lost his consciousness out of nowhere. " Bruce explained to Jason and Damian just thought about certain things.
" Did anyone notice how often he worked out and for how long he did? " Damian asked and everyone got quiet for a moment. Dick nodded, snapping his fingers. " He does. He works out 2 hours after us too, just overworking himself. I thought it was stress. " Dick added to Damian's thought.
" And did anyone notice how often he skipped dinners? " Tim jumped in and Bruce had to think about it. He did skip dinners often.
" Or the fact that he doesn't do anything with us anymore? " Jason jumped in too and Bruce paled as he connected the dots.
" Also, his mood swings somethi- OH! " Dick said and Bruce sighed quietly.
" What are we thinking? "Jason asked and Bruce took a deep breath.
" I think that (Y/N) might have an eating disorder. " Bruce said quietly and everyone was shocked by it. But... it made sense.
" What do we do? " Tim asked and Bruce, probably for the first time in his life didn't know what to do.
" We tell him. We see how he reacts. And if he does have an eating disorder, then we are going to help him. One way or another. " Bruce declared and Dick quickly went to the Batcomputer to look into the symptoms quickly.
Just in case.
And to confirm their suspicions.
" How were we so stupid? " Jason asked and Bruce wondered the exact same thing. He did. He is his father, he is supposed to see when something is going on with his son. He is supposed to know it. If not know it, then sense it.
The dad sense! Bruce looked at the medical area where Alfred was making sure that his son and his grandson is okay.
" I was so blind. " Bruce muttered to himself as he rubbed his face.
" No B. " Dick said from the Batcomputer. There was a solemn look on his face now, eyes directed towards the medical area. " We were all so blind. But we can't stay on it now. We need to look for the ways to help (Y/N) if he does have an eating disorder and I think he does. " Dick said and Damian rubbed the back of his neck.
He couldn't help it and Jason had to sit down for a moment. Tim was just quiet. Dick looked down at the floor and Bruce just wanted to hug his son, but beat himself up at the same time.
His son has been suffering and yet they all were blind. Everyone moved to Alfred who exited and everyone was buzzing with excitement and sheer curiosity for their brother and son.
" He is skinny beyond belief. I can see his bones protruding and I nearly started crying right then and there. Oh I have been so blind. " Alfred said and the boys quickly brought him into a group hug. Bruce hesitated before joining in.
" We are going to help him. " Bruce said both to everyone and to himself. It is a promise and an oath. And does Bruce intend to make sure he fulfills it. No matter what.
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asuyaka · 2 months
Note
Hello Hello!!📞 Hope ur having a wonderful time zone, author I just wanna say that I have read 2-3 of ur writings and I alr love it! Keep it up! ur writing's amazing.💗 I was wondering if I could request a Geto from jjk fic about him with a Curse! M reader, not a curse user, a literal curse like Mahito. But unlike Mahito the reader doesn't understand human emotions and from observing Geto (after he betrayed jujutsu high and became a cult leader) think's that its normal to kill and hate non-sorcerer's. Reader just sticks around in the shadow's and watches Geto and observer's his behavior until Geto notices and question's reader but after learning that, oh shit this curse is actually pretty powerful he might actually be useful, and promises reader to teach him about human's in exchange of him staying by Geto's side and helping him in his goal. Geto (as time passes) fall's in love with reader while reader get's this feeling that he can't understand when he's with Geto. sorry if this is a lot to ask and if u don't understand what i meant, u can just ignore me and my rambling😅
★ - s'okay lovely, descriptive reqs are jus as interestin' as non descriptive ones! &lt;3
☆ - Cult Leader! Suguru Geto x Curse! M Reader!
♡ - typical Geto stuff! racist ta non-sorcerers, n tha word 'monkey' s'used one too many times (toji only said it once, by that way.)!
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Geto remembers finding you— a curse who's stuck by his side ever since he deflected from the Jujutsu world— letched onto the side of a very popular road for couples to hang out and do whatever it was that couples do.
The very first time you two met, he remembers your soft voice, body radiating heaps of untapped cursed energy—untapped potential. Your curled up body, eyes void of emotion looking up at him with something that resembles confusion. "You can see me?"
Ever since then, you've been stuck to his side. While he doesn't think of you as useless, it has taken a bit too long for the potential— the strength he wants to see from you come out.
He's willing to wait, of course, he needs all the help he can get before initiating his plan against Jujutsu High, but there's only so much patience one man can have.
Especially, a man who's already running low on time.
You're accompanying Geto on a trip to a 'money-collecting monkey', as he likes to call them. They went back on their payments to the...cult (?) home (?) and he came to give them some 'personal counseling'—which was what he always said when blood was more than likely to be shed.
"Remember why we're here, [Name]," Geto says as he gets off his manta-ray curse, extending his hand to help you.
You stare at him, muttering a small thank you. "Help the monkey?"
Geto pushes his arms into his sleeves with a smile that makes your tummy churn in discomfort. "And?"
"Work on my cursed technique..." You mutter, kicking a pebble on the ground with an unseen pout working its way on your face. Ever since Geto quite literally found you on the side of a road, you've been his right-hand man ever since. Even if your understanding of cursed techniques and cursed energy is slim to none.
You've always understood in the back of your mind that he needs you for something. He had to—otherwise, he would've turned you into a ball and swallowed it on the spot. He always says how you aren't necessarily a bad curse, but he's never said you were good either.
You've never understood what he meant by that, but by the way Nanako grimaced whenever he said it, you assumed it wasn't a good thing. Without knowing, the pout grew into a frown and you found yourself huffing. Humans and their weird emotions always intrigued you ever since you were born, but you could never understand it.
Which is why you've been with Geto for so long. He's the first human who acknowledged your presence, the first human to act (kind, was it?) around you, so by process of elimination he was your first and only candidate to learn from.
When you two reached the house you overhear Geto whisper something about how the stench of monkeys would get everywhere.
'... Monkeys = bad people, they make Geto angry.' You think to yourself as you rummage through the pockets of the clothes Geto lent to you, bringing out a small spray bottle and handing it to the male beside you.
The action seems to take him by surprise. His smile falters and he stares at the item in your hand for a beat too long, grabbing it with a 'thank you' and spraying it on his clothes with a tight expression.
"Come here, you aren't getting monkey on my curses, or around the house." Geto waves you over, spraying a generous amount on your clothes and on your face. The spiciness takes you by surprise, spluttering as you try to get the taste off your mouth and the burn out of your eyes.
Surprisingly—shockingly even, you hear Geto laugh. It doesn't sound like the one he uses around the curse-collecting or money-collecting monkeys, it sounds like the one he uses around Nanako and Mimiko.
'Geto laughing = good. He's happy or excited.'
The laughing stops but he brings up a finger to wipe the tear that fell down your cheek during the sting. His hands are slightly calloused but soft to the touch. "Come on, let's get this over with. I'd rather stay away from monkeys on my weekends."
Nodding, you follow behind Geto as he walks up to the door, planting three brisk but firm knocks against the wood. You make sure to stay a step behind him, your body stiff and your eyes blank in case the monkey decides to try anything.
The door opens a slither a pair of green eyes widening the second they see you and Geto. "G-Geto-san! What do I owe the pleasure?"
"Good afternoon to you as well, Mr. Ashido. From my understanding, you're to fund my organization with three hundred thousand yen a month, am I correct?" Geto smiles, but it doesn't feel nice like when he smiles at you.
'Monkeys make Geto's smile weird. All monkeys are bad.'
The man nods shakily, his grip on the door faltering slightly. "Y-yes, but I cannot make up with the payments anymore because—"
"Correct me if I'm mistaken, Mr. Ashido, but you were the one who said three hundred thousand, am I correct?" Geto interrupts with a slight movement of his head, his signature bang moving with it.
"But Mr. Geto—"
Then, Geto's smile falls. His nose scrunches up in disgust and his eyes narrow. That means he's going to kill someone.
Before either of you knows what's happening, a surge of cursed energy flows into your hand, and the man's body squishes onto the ground until it pops as if the gravity on his body somehow quadrupled.
Geto's eyes widen, staring at the eyeball that rolled on the tip of his sandals. He turns to look at you, equal parts shocked and amused. "You did that, didn't you?"
"Monkeys are bad, and you looked like you were going to kill him anyway. I'm sorry for acting out of line G—"
"Don't you dare apologize for that." Geto interrupts with a sharp cut to his tone, making you stutter and trip over your words.
'Don't apologize, Geto gets angry. Angry = bad emotion.'
You nod hastily, but the nagging feeling to apologize stretches along your throat, itching to come out. Geto huffs, walking down the stairs and dragging you by the collar. "Seriously, the one time I take my eyes off you, you go change the actual laws of space on a guy?"
"Sor—" You stop yourself midway, remembering how apologies made Geto feel. You opt to stay silent and let him drag you wherever it is he wants to.
As you and Geto ride back home on the manta-ray curse, you see the smile on his face from earlier still hasn't left.
'Killing monkeys makes Geto give Nanako and Mimiko smile. Feels better than what he uses with sponsors.'
"Did I do good, Geto?" You ask absentmindedly, shifting closer to him until your chest is pressed against his back.
Something that resembles a laugh comes out of him, but it seems airy. Still genuine, but not as hard as when he sprayed you in your face. "Yes, [Name]. You did well."
A slight flush and embarrassment creeps up on you, causing you to plant your face on his shoulder. It didn't feel bad, just new. The same thing you feel whenever Geto falls asleep on your shoulder, or when he and you stay on his flying curse for hours at a time, doing nothing but basking in each other's presence.
It feels great, and you're glad to be feeling it with the only human you would put your life on the line for.
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sunshyni · 3 months
Text
big boy energy
Jisung × Fem!reader
notes: this is my first text in English, so I'm feeling nervous 😬 English is not my native language, so forgive me for any errors or mistakes like that!! And that's it!! I hope you enjoy it!!
w.c: 0,7k
tw: none
I don't even know if this is good. I write more to see how my English vocabulary is doing, but anyway!!
Good read, sweeties!! ❤️
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Your older brother's getting married in a few months, and dance lessons were scheduled for the couple and the godparents to avoid any embarrassment on the big day. Right now, you have no clue who your dance partner will be because your brother keeps saying, “Her right dance partner will show up any minute”.
You're chilling in a chair, adjusting your high heels for dancing, when you hear a noise from the salon door, and your eyes immediately snap in that direction.
— Hey guys, am I late? Sorry, my flight was delayed — Says the guy standing by the door. Jisung looks taller and stronger than the last time you saw him, but he still has that same sparkle in his eyes from when you were kids. Jisung, just two years older than you, used to mess with your braids all the time.
It was tough when he left town to study and work in Korea, his country of origin. You couldn't help but miss him, even though it seemed like he didn't give a damn about leaving you behind.
You kinda resented him for that because you've always had a thing for him, but he either didn't notice or didn't feel the same. I mean, you used to like him, but now that you see him another time, your heart can't help but race.
— Jisungie! You're not tired, are you? — Your brother asks. Jisung, dressed all black, looks even hotter than usual — I've got a mission for you.
— I'm good, let's do it — Jisung says, meeting your gaze with a nostalgic sweetness. You finally stand up, and thankfully, you don't trip and fall flat on your face.
— You'll be dancing with my sister, okay? — Your brother practically pushes Jisung in your direction. Jisung smiles at you, and all you can do is cross your arms and scowl.
— I hate you both — You mutter to Jisung and your brother as he heads back to his fiancée, sticking his tongue out at you in a teasing way. The dance teacher starts the class, and you even have the chance to complain to Jisung. He holds you tighter, causing you some agitation, but all you can focus on is trying to breathe normally while his face is so close to yours.
— Did you miss me, shawty? — He asks, leading the dance with skill, not like the same boy from years ago who learned to salsa from “Shall We Dance?” while you were sighing over the charmer Richard Gere.
— I'm not giving you the answer you want, Andy Park — You say, and Jisung chuckles softly in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, but you brush them off, wrapping your arms around his neck like they were made to be there.
— I prefer when you call me Jisungie, babe.
— I preferred it when you didn't leave me alone, babe — You retort, stepping on his feet. Jisung lets out a low groan but still holds you close, dancing like there's no one else in the room.
— I'm sorry for letting you down all this time. I'm an asshole, it's true — Jisung admits, acknowledging all the times you two didn't talk when you really wanted to, even if it was just to argue, something you did a lot as kids — Can we make peace, pretty please? Go back to the way things used to be?
You hesitate for a moment before letting a small smile slip.
— Like the old times, huh?
— But this time, I really wanna kiss you — Jisung whispers in your ear, and your heart feels like it's about to leap out of your chest. You feel his cheek against yours, and if you don't answer him soon, you might just pass out.
— Andy...
— Keep calling me like that, and I'll kiss you right here, not giving a fuck about your brother and my best friend — He says, planting a soft kiss on your cheek, leaving you dizzy with his scent filling the room, making it hard to breathe. You muster up the courage to speak, looking into his eyes.
— When did you get this big boy energy?
— I don't know, but you better enjoy it, cutie.
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