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sugurufic · 2 months

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Nanami-Sensei (Nanami X F!Reader)

Summary: Your husband isn't that much of a grump, it seems. Especially when it comes to his favourite people; you and your "children".

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: reader is very motherly and is mentioned to be sunshine-y, other than that it's just fluff

masterlist

“Nanamin!” Yuji’s voice rang out in the empty classroom, bringing a smile to your face. Your husband let out an exhausted sigh, but the little smile on his face told you otherwise. Yuji was Haibara with pink hair, his sunny personality almost contagious. You figured your husband has a type of people he lets close - and it's most definitely the sunshine people, like yourself.

“What is it, Itadori-kun?” Kento asks in his deadpan.

“I saw these in the market and thought you might like them!” the pink haired boy said, holding up a small paper bag. “I bought some for you too, Nanami-san,”

“Thank you, Yuji,” You say, scooting over on the bench. “Why don’t you sit with us for a while?”

The boy’s eyes sparkle with delight as he accepts your offer, sitting beside you with his hands on the desk. Nanami’s brow is relaxed, and you know he enjoys spending time with Yuji as much as you do. “Nanami-san, won’t you open this?”

The bag smelled amazing, and the little box had some of your favourite doughnuts. You gave one to your husband, one to Yuji and took one for yourself. “How did you know I liked them?” you ask, a bright smile on your face.

Yuji swallows his bite quickly, then says, “Nanamin mentioned it yesterday when we were taking a break after exorcising a curse. We stopped by this shop to get doughnuts,” Yuji says, making Nanami look down quickly.

“Well, why don’t you come home with us?” You offer. “I’ll make us some spicy ramen. Then we can have the rest of the doughnuts for dessert.”

“We can pick some mochi up on our way home too,” Nanami says.

Yuji’s eyes sparkle, he is so full of life - your heart cries out for him - why did fate choose him to be Sukuna’s vessel? Why couldn’t he have been a normal child? You decide not to dwell on these questions, putting your best smile instead, hugging the young boy from his shoulders. He couldn’t yet spend time with his friends, and you wanted to keep his cheerful self for as long as he can. “Don’t think about it too much, Yuji.” You said. “We can watch a movie together.”

“Human Earthworm 4?” He says in a soft voice.

“Itadori-kun, it’s time for you to watch something else,” Nanami sighs.

“We can pick the movie later,” you intervene. “What do you say, Yuji? It will be a nice break for you to leave Jujutsu Tech for a bit,”

“Gojo-Sensei -” Yuji starts.

“He won’t say anything,” You assure him.

“Okay, Nanami-san!” He says, the bright smile returning to his face. “I’ll go see Gojo-Sensei once, then we can go!”

Yuji runs at an alarming speed, leaving you with a chuckle. “Isn’t he a lovely child?” you murmur to your husband.

“Indeed,” He says with a sigh, caressing your hand with his thumb. “He might be your son with how much energy and joy he has,”

“Well, he wouldn’t be just my son then.” You say with a coy smile. “And I think, that you might just have a type of favourite people,”

“People who are similar to you, my love,” He agrees. “But you will always be my favourite of them all.”

“I better be,” you giggle. “I am your wife, after all.”

It is adorable the way your husband has taken the child under his wing, acting as his mentor and protector - it makes you wonder how he would be with your own kids, loving and protecting them from the world. It makes you long for a normal life, where you could raise your kids without the permanent threat over them. The world you belong to is too dangerous for children.

“Nanamin! Nanami-san!” Yuji’s cheerful voice is back again, saving you from the dark thoughts forming in your head. He has a bright smile on his face and a backpack with him, ready to leave. “I’m ready!”

“Let’s go then,” You get up from your place, and wrap one hand around your husband’s hand and the other one hold’s Yuji’s arm. “A warm dinner is waiting for us back home,”

Nanami settles, with a sigh as Yuji begins to play Human Earthworm 4 on the television, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed between the two of you. You cannot help but think of Yuji as your child, even though you are too young to be his parents. He’s wonderful company to have around - helping you lift up your spirits with his contagious laugh and in general helping you in the kitchen as your husband took the laundry. Yuji is so animated, excitedly filling you in with the previous parts of the movie, doughnut box on his lap.

Hidden from Yuji’s eyes, Nanami has a rare, charming smile on his face as he watches the two suns of his life get close to each other. How you tousle the boy’s pink hair as if he’s your younger self, indulging in his gossip about everyone from school, about how his Gojo-Sensei has been teaching him, about how he misses Megumi and Nobora and wishes he can talk to them again.

Your eyes meet his behind Yuji, and you share a smile, a smile reserved for you two only. Yuji stills for a bit as the movie progresses and you take that time to set up the guest room for him - comforters, pillows, and toiletries. You know that inviting Sukuna’s vessel over to your home is dangerous, and you wonder why the King of Curses had to pick this sunshine in human-form of a child as his vessel.

“Nanami-san,” Yuji whispers, tiptoeing into the guest room. “Nanamin has fallen asleep,”

“Oh?” You say with a grin. “I told him he should take a nap, but my husband just never listens. Come on, let’s get him a blanket.”

“Don’t you want to wake him up?” Yuji asks, confused. Wouldn’t it be better if he got into bed to sleep?

“He didn’t sleep last night,” You admit, fetching an extra blanket from the guest room’s closet. “He got up early to see you,”

Yuji’s face turns as pink as his hair, beginning to apologise, but you stop him. “My husband cares deeply for you, Yuji. Even though he doesn’t show it.” You say. “And I absolutely stand with him on the matter.”

“Nanami-san,” Yuji bows deeply in front of you, muttering words of gratitude and thanks and apologies for being a bother.

“Yuji, you’re just a child,” You say. “Don’t bother yourself with these worries. Now, let’s get a blanket for your Nanamin before he wakes up from the chill.”

You tuck your husband in on the sofa for the night, kissing his forehead before getting ready for bed. You’re in the kitchen getting some water when Yuji follows you too, sitting on the counter.

“Nanami-san, how did you and Nanamin meet?” He quietly asks, a rare moment of stillness from him.

“Oh, we met at Jujutsu Tech,” you say. “I made friends with Kento’s friend, and then we hung out together…” You are lost in thought of your youth, with Yu, Kento and your senpais. Suddenly, it’s Haibara Yu in front of you, telling you how he loves to eat, and would love a woman who loves to eat. You’re with Kento, comforting him after Haibara’s death, hugging him close as he cries on your shoulder. You’re with Shoko as she is told of Geto’s defection, and how he killed 112 villagers, including his parents. You’re the one Gojo reaches out to when Tsumiki gets her first period, panicking because he doesn’t know what to do as Megumi freaks out.

Then you’re back with Kento, as he tells you he is leaving the Jujutsu sorcery, because he cannot take it anymore. You’re right there with him, applying for a job in the corporate world because you fear if you stay a sorcerer too long, you might join Geto. No wonder they couldn’t catch him for years - you had helped him hide. No matter how much Kento believed in protecting the youth, protecting the defenceless, he couldn’t hate Geto, because he understood.

You are brought back to the present, at the sound of Yuji calling your name, and smile at him. “I was new there, and Haibara made friends with me,” You continue. “He wasn’t too different from you, so full of life. He was friends with Kento, and I started being friends with him too. Gojo would always pick on him for being an introvert, and I'd always tease him too. Then we joined corporate, and got even closer… and well, here we are.”

“Did Nanamin ask you out?” He asks, excitement returning to his eyes again.

“He did,” you say, recalling the big bouquet you had at your desk on a random Tuesday morning, signed by Kento. “He had to be thrown a lot of signs before he realised that I like him too.”

“He seems so closed off,” Yuji notes.

“He takes time to understand,” you admit. “All that toughness but he is a softie,” getting too lost in your thoughts, you decide it’s time to make some calming tea. You set the water to boil while Yuji brings out two cups while you mix up your tea and some herbs with a sugar cube.

“What do you love the most about him, Nanami-san?” Yuji asks.

You pour out the tea into the cups, taking a long sip before answering, “His heart,” you cannot help but smile at the thought of your husband. “He’s so kind, so patient. He’s just so… I love him,” you say with a delighted sigh. “He’s perfect,”

“I wish I can be like Nanamin,” Yuji says.

“You already are a great young man,” You are quick to reassure him. “Don’t change too much, Yuji.”

There’s a quiet knock on the door, and you quickly shift into high alert mode. Being a Jujutsu sorcerer came with his problems - namely enemies showing up unannounced. You reach for your cursed tool as you get to the door, looking at the door camera, relaxing and then panicking on seeing Ino Takuma. You quickly open the door with minimal noise and signal your finger to your mouth.

You give him a once over to see if he is injured, worry laced over your face. Once sure that he seems okay, you escort him back into the kitchen, locking the door after him. Ino smiles seeing a sleeping Nanami, his grin only widening on seeing Yuji. “Itadori,” he greets in a whisper.

“Yo! Ino-senpai,” Yuji 's eyes widened, his boy-ish face making your heart ache with love for him. He’s just a boy, thrust into the middle of everything.

You set the kettle to the stove again, as Ino helps himself to some cookies from the shelf. Now with a hot cup of tea in each pair of hands, you tiptoe to the guest room, careful to not disturb your husband’s slumber. Heavens know that he deserves it.

“Takuma-chan, what brings you here tonight?” You ask, sitting on the only chair in the room while Ino and Yuji sit on the bed.

“I was fighting a curse, it seemed a bit stronger than grade 2.” He says. “It was close by. I didn’t have the strength to return home and stopped by.”

Yuji’s curious eyes fly between the two of you, wondering if he will ever feel free enough to show up uninvited. “Takuma was Kento’s first student,” you tell a confused Yuji. “He was there when my boyfriend turned to my fiancé.”

Your mind flies back to a happier time, about three years ago when Kento and you had planned a date to a fancy place but you two dragged Ino with you, he’d just successfully completed his solo first mission and you wanted to celebrate. But the restaurant didn’t know that - and hence you got a surprise pastry with a ring box on it, with your first ever child witnessing your pure joy.

“Nanami was not very delighted by me being there,” Ino notes.

“Tch, Takuma-chan I thought you knew him better,” You pout.

“He always acts like a grump,” Ino says, making you and Yuji chuckle.

Your first child with your latest, you think, smiling at the two of them. Your husband does have a specific type for people who he lets get close to him - people like you - who are insufferable sunshine, pushing into his grumpy space with your bright smiles and twinkling eyes that he can't help but want to protect.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #nanami fluff

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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months

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How do you think Alastor would react to being called cute, hot etc.along those lines

Like how would it make him feel? Pre-Wifey. Like it’s Wifey, but she ain’t wifey yet lol

Wifey rizzing up her man??? 👀

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being TORTURED, Reader has that WIFE energy, Alastor thinks about killing someone

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor was a confident man who prided himself on not being taken unawares by anything or anyone

The keyword is was

But meeting you and getting to know you has completely caught him off guard because he's FALLING for you

He knew you were a dangerous woman, but he didn't realize just what sort of danger he was in

In danger of losing his HEART~

He couldn't help it, you were beautiful and witty along with a number of other fantastic qualities/talents

And when you smiled at him it made him freeze in his tracks, even the simplest eye contact made him feel flushed

But then you opened your mouth and actually spoke to him which made things so much more difficult

"You look good today, Alastor~ Did you do something different? Very debonair~"

He wonders if you're torturing him like this on purpose, if you know how he feels about you

But he does his best to remain unfazed, or at least not let you see how your words affect him

"I can't say I've done anything new, but I appreciate that someone around here notices my good looks~"

Your soft laugh makes his heart skip a beat, and he almost blushes when your fingers play with the ends of his hair

"I always notice you, Alastor."

He's at least able to wait until you leave the room to suddenly collapse on a table, steam coming out of his ears as he clutches at his chest

He would be insanely jealous if you acted this way with anyone else but you seem to reserve it all for him, something he's secretly grateful for

Even when you're drunk, you always seem to find a way to make him fluster

Alastor finds you at the bar, cheeks pink from the alcohol in your system, talking to the bartender about something

Or someone

"-he's just so handsome..! I can't get over it-"

Alastor takes a seat next to you, cutting off some random guy from taking the seat in hopes of getting an easy mark out of you

"Who's handsome now?"

He's totally not asking because he's jealous, or trying to figure out who he's going to hunt down and ki-

You hiccup and give him a drunken smile, leaning in to get in his face, which immediately makes his heart race

"You are~ Hand...some~"

Alastor can feel the heat rushing up to his face as you poke his nose before clumsily leaning back to get your drink

Okay, you've definitely had enough to drink

"I think you've had enough for tonight, let's get you home, my dear."

You whine and pout as he drags you out of the bar, only complying when he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady

He hopes that you're too drunk to remember the way he blushes the entire way home with you, holding you tight

It doesn't help that you're so snuggly when you're drunk, nuzzling your head under his chin

He almost explodes when he manages to pry you off of him and lay you down on your bed only for you to stare at him with glassy eyes

"Mm...that's hot...you're so hot~"

He rubs his hand over his face in an effort to hide the embarrassing choked sound that escapes him

"Please... just go to sleep..."

He's less sure that you're messing with him when you say things like that while drunk out of your mind

Your worst attacks are the sneak attacks that come out of nowhere for him, making it painfully obvious how much he feels for you

He's eating when you suddenly come in, rolling your eyes as you sit next to him, listening to all the little noises he makes as he eats

He can't help it, the food is delicious~

You suddenly grab a napkin and dab the corner of his mouth, giving him a small smile

"You're cute, you know that?"

He almost chokes on his food, your words along with the physical touch making his mind go blank

"C-cute!?"

Fuck, his voice cracked, making him blush uncontrollably as you obviously try not to laugh at him

"Ahem! Cute is not a proper word to describe me, I am many things, but cute isn't one of them..!"

You take his plate away from him, helping yourself to his meal as he rants about how he's not cute

"Say what you will, but I think you're a very cute man~"

He just groans and lays his head on the table, openly blushing now as he watches you eat

"I'm not... cute..."

You just laugh at him and it makes his heart beat a little faster despite his visible pouting

You're an evil woman who's torturing him for falling for you, trying to make him confess so you can tease him about it

He's sure of it...but it doesn't diminish his growing feelings for you any less

This one was so fun 😭

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months

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Reader Lore - Born to Break Records

So this is a little filler for between now and the next chapter. This chapter might have triggers for death, abusive parents, and brief mentions of bullying. If these make you uncomfortable, then please feel free to skip this chapter. The synopsis is the reader’s life up until her first race win in F2.

Welcome to Reader-Lore

2003

The cry of a baby filled the sterile walls of the delivery room. Pants filled in the quiet moments, but were mostly covered. The wailing baby was placed into the arms of the waiting mother, the father looking down on the two.

“It’s a girl,” the nurse told them, writing something down in a book.

The atmosphere suddenly changed. The once hopeful air was dampened with disappointment. The father sighed loudly, turning his head to look out the window. The mother, who had held her baby tight, loosened her grip. Her nose was now scrunched in borderline disgust.

The nurse, feeling the off energy, offered to take the baby girl. She made some excuse about needing to weigh her and make sure that she was healthy, things that could have waited until after the parents bonded.

The mother was quick to hand her over, waiving her hand as though it wasn’t a big deal. The father had now moved farther away from the hospital bed.

The baby had started to wail once more after being taken from the arms of her mother. Arms that she thought were safe. Arms connected to the body that had cared for her for 9 months. Arms that suddenly did not hold her tight. Arms that willingly gave her away to some stranger.

Once the nurse and frightened infant left the from, the mother and father looked at each other.

“I wanted a boy,” the male murmured.

The female rolled her eyes, “I know. And so did I. But we don’t have a choice anymore.”

“We do. Could always leave her here. A boy would be able to break records. A girl is useless.”

“And be arrested? No thank you.” The mother rolled on her side, arms around her front. The father just huffed.

“Everything we talked about, our future, is now a wasted memory.”

The mother looked at the door with a sliver of hope, although, it was too small for anyone to see it. “Maybe she can do everything that you wanted a boy to do.”

“We can just have another baby,” the father persisted.

“You heard the doctor. It would be too dangerous for me to have another. What’s done is done. You can walk out now if you can’t commit.” The woman went to say something else, but was interrupted by whimpers.

The nurse had walked back in, now with a swaddled baby. Begrudgingly, the mother held her hands out to take the bundle of blankets. She looked down at the brand new baby, but her heart didn’t swell with pride like she read about. Her heart filled with distain, as if the baby were a Christmas present that she didn't want. But this time, she couldn’t return the baby like she’d return a gift at whatever store it was bought from.

The father had taken a few steps closer to the bed, but kept his distance. There wasn’t a bone in his body that actually wanted the child.

“We still need a name for her,” the nurse stated, clicking her pen.

The mother glanced to the father before saying, “Y/n. Her name is Y/n.”

2008 – Five years old

The air was stuffy, filled with the scent of petrol and burnt rubber. The quiet that could have been was broken by the rattles of engines and throttles. You wished for silence.

You wanted nothing to do with this. But, you’d rather get in a kart then flinch at your father’s hand. You had been allowed to wander around the track. The big boys were driving now. And by big boys, you meant 11- and 10-year-olds. They were bigger than you and drove karts that were so much faster than the little one that you had.

You looked around. There was definitely not a shortage of girls hanging around, but none were dressed like you. Most were the older or younger sisters of the drivers. Their pink tops, paired with shorts or skirts, flowed in the wind. None of them were wearing an old itchy race suit that was two sized too big. They were allowed to wear sandals, while you had to endure the tight racing shoes that your dad had definitely yanked on the laces too much. It wasn’t your fault that you hadn’t learn to tie them yet.

You watched their hair bounce in the tall pony tails tied on the tops of their heads. They didn’t need their hair to be wrapped in a bun at the base of their necks so that it could fit into a helmet.

You wished that your mom and dad would allow you to cut it off so that you could be the boy that they wanted. You knew that they didn’t want you, your little mind was able to catch on to things like that.

You understood patterns. Patterns on the track helped you know what areas to avoid. Patters on the kart taught you where to put your feet and hands. Patterns told you that moms and dads should be happy for their children, and not yell at them. Patters revealed that children did not flinch when their parents patted their heads or caressed their cheeks.

The wind blew loud as the kart race came to a close. You knew that you needed to get back quickly to where you parents were waiting, but you wanted to see the winners, wanted to see them taste a victory that you were so desperate for.

You squeezed past the other boys and looked up at the three on the podium. The one on the lowest step wasn’t rememberable. His hair looked the same as others. His height wasn’t tall or small, just in the middle.

But the boys on the other two steps were. The one on the second pedestal had a shaggy hair cut, with bangs that pointed down. You had seen him before, surrounded by his family. A little brother, a big brother, mom and dad, and then a man who looked at the boy with stars in his eyes.

You wished someone looked at you like that.

“And in second place, Charles Leclerc.” So that was his name. Sharl. His eyes were bright green and filled with light and hope. But a sadness still glazed them as he looked up at the boy on the top step.

The boy who towered over the crowd had blond sandy hair. For a winner, he didn’t look happy. His blue eyes didn’t hold the same brightness that the green eyes had.

“And our winner, Max Verstappen!”

That was a nice name. Max. You wanted to look at the boy winner for a few more moments. Engrave his image into your mind. Because, you didn’t know when the next time you’d be able to do this. Your dad would probably ban you from such things, saying something like you didn’t need to look at something you’d never achieve.

But you were hungry.

You were taken out of your watching by the announcement that your own race was going to start soon. And you weren’t in your kart.

You rushed through the crowd, trying to put on your bright pink helmet on. You could put your gloves on while you got into your kart.

By the time you got there, your dad was already looking at you with a disappointed look. Your mother was nowhere to be found.

“Where have you been,” he hissed, hitting your helmet.

“I wanted to see the podiums,” you muttered, getting your gloves on.

Your dad shook his head. “What have I told you about that?”

“That I shouldn’t look at things that I can’t get.”

“Exactly. Now get in your kart.”

You did as he said. You heart was pounding as you taxied the little thing onto the smaller track. You were able to be seen by everyone, your helmet acting as a little flag. It seemed to say “look at me! I’m the only girl trying to be on par with all these boys! Watch me fail!”

But you were determined to prove them all wrong.

By the last lap, you were right behind one more kart. One more pass and you could win. Prove your dad wrong. Prove everyone wrong.

You watched as he broke your pattern. The pattern that would help you win.

He made a mistake, and you welcomed it with glee.

You passed over the finish line with a significant gap behind you and that boy. At the stopping point, you parked your kart and stepped out, exhaling sharply.

You thought that people would cheer and shout, but the silence that you had wished for earlier had come to haunt you.

You won and there was nothing to celebrate.

2015 – Twelve years old

Everyone thought he was crazy. There was no way that he was going to sponsor a 12 year old in karting, a female none the less.

He wasn’t crazy. How could he not want to sponsor you, a consecutive race winner in your league. He constantly watched you drive circles around the boys who would berate you in their free time. He watched as you would let their words roll right off your back. You didn’t let their words get to you.

But, he was your godfather and he had a sense of responsibility for you. He watched as you climbed out of the kart, looking around trying to find a familiar face.

He could see your eyebrows raise through the visor when you caught sight of him.

“LoLo!” you yelled, quickly sprinting over to him. He was ready to catch you, but not expecting the hit with your helmet.

He let out an oof as you knocked him slightly off balance.

“Hey kid! You did good!” He rubbed your helmet as if it were hair. You quickly unbuckled the pink contraption and took it off, hair sticking to your forehead.

You looked around before your shoulders slumped. You kicked a rock as you spoke, “They didn’t come.”

Lorenzo had noticed a lack of your parents as soon as he arrived. He would have come earlier to help you with your kart if he had known that they weren’t here. He looked down at you with sad eyes, and that’s the last thing you wanted.

You always wished for someone to look at you with so much love and affection that it poured out of their soul. But you only ever got looks of hatred and pity.

He rubbed your shoulder, “It’s ok kid. But you wanna know something?” He crouched down to your level, pant legs getting damp with moisture. You nodded your head. “LoLo gets to sponsor you!”

You gasped, eyes tearing. Even though you were twelve, you knew the weight of the situation. Your parents had told you that because you were winning, you were embarrassing them. And because you were embarrassing them, they wouldn’t pay any more years of karting after this one. You wailed when you told Lorenzo the next time you saw him. And he saw your heart break into itty bitty pieces while you did.

When you left, he looked into every possibly way that he could keep you in karting. The only option was to sponsor you.

And sponsor you he did. He emailed, texted, and called multiple companies, trying to get their support. He would get sponsorship to put on your kart so that you could carry the logos proudly. He had your new one sitting in the back of his old truck, but that was a surprise. It was blue with two proud bulls on the very front. He had done it. He found you a sponsor that would keep you going for a couple of years.

His thoughts were interrupted by you actually knocking him over. He knew his sweater was getting damp, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to see you smile for the rest of his life.

You were too busy whispering thank you after thank you for you to notice the weird looks that you were getting. Looks from the boys that you had just beaten. Looks from the parents who didn’t know the worries of paying for karting.

He quickly picked you up and took you back over to get your cart. He helped you load it on the mover and rolled it over to his truck. You wouldn’t be needing this kart that was almost falling apart. You had a new one, and you’d be all right.

You talked the whole way home, animatedly moving your hands around as you described your latest win. Your hands rolled over the other as you showed him how you turned the wheel, barely clipping the front of the kart who wanted to push you off.

Lorenzo only looked at you with pure adoration. A look that you wanted so much, but were too busy to see due to your explanations of your imaginations.

Maybe he was crazy, but he didn’t think so.

2019 – Sixteen years old (F3)

Your eyes were pricked with tears as you read the letter you received in the mail. The big letters of DISOWNMENT flashed in the reflections. They had done it weeks ago, according to the date on the top of the paper. By now, your things were probably thrown away or burned.

You had just finished the F4 category and were making a name for yourself in F3. You couldn’t deal with this now. One of the management people came and knocked on your door, telling you that the race was about to start.

You crumpled the paper up and threw it in the trash. If they didn’t need you, you didn’t need them. That was the lie you continually told yourself. Of course a girl needed her parents. They were the people who were supposed to nurture you and help you.

But they never did that in the first place. At least you didn’t have to constantly buy drug store foundation and concealer and try to explain the black and blue around your eyes after it melted off during the race. No more flinching. No more hiding.

Just no more.

You would call Lorenzo and see if you could stay with him for a bit during the break. You would have to or you wouldn’t have a place to sleep.

Your breath shuddered at the thought.

You told yourself that you knew this was coming. They had cut all contact with you months ago and weren’t spotted when you went home during the last break.

You allowed the tears to fall as you got your helmet on. No one would see the streams as you placed your visor down. You were now hidden away from the weird looks that everyone sent you. No girl had ever made it this far.

Sure as you grew, there were girls in karting. That number seemed to increase in F4. Most of them were from the driver academies. You were still able to participate due to multiple sponsorships that Lorenzo had gotten you.

But with increase, there has to be a decrease. You were currently the only female in F3 and were set to be the only female to make it to F2. Well, that’s what everyone told you. Your stats reflected your need to prove yourself.

Race win after race win helped thrust you through the blockades built by men. They wouldn’t stop you, and you didn’t want to stop. Not now, not ever.

Each race win fueled your hunger in this world. And it only grew and grew.

Your tears were brushed away by the wind brushing through your car. At that moment, you told yourself that you wouldn’t cry over your parents ever again. They didn’t deserve them.

You could cry about other things. Such as passing over the finish line, marking your first win in F3.

You constantly showed the world that you could do it. You wanted to cry again as you listened to your anthem. You wanted to cry when the boys celebrated with each other, leaving you out. You wanted to cry as you walked back to your “motor home,” knowing that it was put up quickly for you.

The time you finally let yourself cry was when you were talking with Lorenzo on the phone. Your eyes were tired and dehydrated by the time you quit. Lorenzo was able to calm you down. He told you that he would take care of everything, take care of you.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to see him much though. The F3 calendar was far busier than the F4 one had. And you knew the moment you entered F2, time for relaxation would be far and few between.

But you had Lorenzo to fall back on when the times got hard. You could always count on him.

2020 – Seventeen years old (F2)

It was too soon. Too too soon. It wasn’t fair either. Your tears had not stopped streaming down your face since you arrived. The sterile smell itched your nose, but you needed to be here. For him.

He had gotten paler in the few moments since you had been there. His breath rattled with each inhale and exhale. And each breath brought more tears. You didn’t want to let him go.

“Please LoLo. I can’t do this without you,” you whispered, knowing that he probably would not hear you. The doctors told you that he was far too gone for that, but you liked to believe that he was still listening. “You can’t leave me like everyone has. I can’t be alone. I need you.” You put your face down in the blankets, squeezing his hand.

The nurses stood in the door, with tears of their own. They were watching a child lose the only family that she had left.

You inhaled sharply, wiping your tears away.

“You know I’m going to do it. For you. It’s only ever been you. You’ve been my best friend and I don’t know how I’m going to get through this scary world without you.” You hiccupped. “But, I know that you need to go. And I’m being selfish for keeping you here.”

You stood and kissed his forehead.

“Thank you LoLo, for everything. I love you.”

His chest rose, fell, rose, and fell.

But didn’t rise again. The multiple beeps from the different machines let you know that he was gone. And he wasn’t coming back.

One of the nurses came and rubbed your back as you sobbed, not caring who heard you. Your tears did not stop.

They didn’t stop on the plane to Bahrain. They refused to dry up during the practices as you set record times. They let up as you gave post-practice interviews, saving you from being embarrassed.

You cried as you put your helmet on. Stickers had been placed on it the night before with Lorenzo’s name and dates of birth and death to commemorate his legacy that would continue through you.

You knew this race was important. You heard that multiple F1 drivers were there to watch. And you’d give them a spectacle, before hiding away to burry your dead godfather. You hoped that the blond kid with blue eyes that had grown up by now was there. He didn’t need to know that you looked up to him. You just hoped that he’d be there. And possibly the green eyed Justin Bieber look-a-like as well, you had followed him too.

You had managed to score a P5 starting on the grid and you knew it would be tough to fight for the front. But you had a feeling that you’d be just fine.

And just fine you were.

You all hauled your F2 car over that finish line, finishing with a gap of 10 seconds. Your crew was screaming in your ear through the radio and congratulations were being thrown everywhere. You pulled into the number 1 spot and climbed onto the nose. You put your finger on the big numbers on the nose of your car, kissed the finger that touched it, and raised it, pointing at the sky. You had changed your driver number to the permanent 89 this season, and for the rest of your career.

One time, Lorenzo had showed you pictures of when he used to kart. The big 89 was visible through the old photographs. He had trophies upon trophies, but was never picked up by anyone. You told him that if he had raced these days, he’d be able to skip everything and would be put into an F1 car immediately. He had just laughed and told you to do it for him.

So that’s what you were doing. After you commemoration, you scrambled down the car and jumped into the crews waiting arms. These days, you did not flinch when they hit your helmet. You knew that these were celebrations for racers and you were thankful to partake. Two boys followed you up and went before you. You didn’t remember their names, only the Australian accent and the odd American accent. But they would remember your name.

You carried your flag high as you walked onto the stage. The anthem sounded much sweeter this time around. The trophy felt a little heavier this time though. You looked up to see those blue eyes that you saw many years ago. Max said a quick congratulations before you raised it as though to almost offer it to the open sky. This time, you let the tears go. You quicky wiped them away and picked up the giant bottle of champagne. You hauled it over your shoulder and sprayed the others, absolutely drenching them.

This time, they did it to you as well.

You knew you made it.

I’ll do it for you, LoLo.

December 2024 – Twenty-one years old

Christian Horner sat in the folding chair, as he did year after year. A camera was right in front of him, with an interviewer to the side.

“Please state your name for the camera.” He rolled his eyes.

“My name is Christian Horner, and I am the Team Principal of the Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula 1 Team.”

“Let’s talk about your driver, Y/n L/n.”

The screen cuts to the pace of your car, passing multiple others in one clean sweep.

“She’s one of the best talents I’ve seen in a while.”

A scene of you holding a trophy, high in the sky.

“What is one thing that you admire about your driver. She has said a lot about you.” Christian smiled. Of course you had. You told him that you saw him as the dad you never had.

“Almost everything she touches, she turns it to gold.”

The scene changes to your first win. The crowds of red cheered your name. Something you didn’t think was possible. You had taken that win from their favorites and you were being praised for it. Slow-motion splashes of champagne hit you from either side as you wiped your face.

The scene returns, but Max is in Christian’s spot.

“She’s different. She’s the epitome of what a rookie should be. I’m just thankful that she’s my teammate and not working against me.”

The screen fades to two Red Bull cars with an Aston Martin in between them.

“Y/n, Max is currently behind the Aston. Gap to you is 1.237 seconds,” Mitch’s voice is heard off screen through the radio.

“Tell Maxie that it’s time to do the old switcharoo!”

Your car suddenly slowed down just enough on the turn, and the crowd cheered as Max’s car went wide, putting him before you. You quickly got in his slip stream and the two of you sped off, leaving the green car in the dust.

Another driver, with green eyes, is now in the seat, answering the same question.

Charles looked up in thought while blowing some air out his lips. “She’s fearless. You normally don’t see that anywhere. Sure, everyone gets scared if they have an impact, especially as big as the one she had, but not her.”

The camera cuts to the violent scene of your first DNF. Your car flipped, you were trapped. People’s faces were adorned with tears including Christian, no one had been able to contact you. Yet, the focus is now on you, wiggling out from beneath the wreckage. You, in spite of it all, raised your fist as though you were celebrating a first win.

The scene cuts to an Australian with a straight smile. He looks semi-uncomfortable in the seat.

“It looked like you and L/n had a tussle in the beginning. Is that true?”

Oscar shook his head. “There was never a tussle. We both made mistakes, but that’s racing. Wheels touch all the time: it doesn’t mean that we have the urge to take each other out.”

The interviewer continued, “But she did take you out.”

The screen fades to a clip of two cars dangerously close together, one orange and one navy.

David Croft’s voice could be heard, “And there goes the Red Bull of Y/n L/n and the McLaren of Oscar Piastri! They are close together around that corner and they aren’t backing down. Are they going to make contact! And they do! Off the track they go, debris is everywhere. And I don’t think they are going to be able to continue.”

You knew that you should not have “never backed down never what-ed.” But Oscar was going for it and so were you. And you felt terrible. You quickly used the halo to climb out. Looking over, Oscar was doing the same thing.

The camera followed you as you made your way through the swarming stewards. You just knew that you needed to check on the Aussie.

The crowds could hear David speak again, “Oh no. Looks like L/n is mad. Does Red Bull have a thing for drivers with anger issues?”

Oscar looked up and saw you storming towards him, batting away the stewards hands. He stiffened, ready for anything. But what he didn’t expect was a giant hug. He could feel you shaking and he quickly put his hands around you.

“I’m ok.”

The screen flashes back to Oscar.

He huffed, “She did. But the moment she got out of the car, she came to check on me. She batted away the stewards who were desperate to make sure that she was fine, since she took the brunt of the hit. If that doesn’t convince you that Y/n is a great friend and better driver, then I don’t know what will.” The Aussie looked livid.

The scene cuts to now a new face, your manager.

The interviewer asks, “What is something that people might not know about Y/n.” Vito put his hand to his chin. You had already given him the permission to talk about what might be discussed.

He inhaled, “She’s strong. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well.”

“Can you give us an example?”

“The kid was disowned in 2019, right before her F3 debut. And you know what she did? She put that F3 car in the P1 spot. She never showed it though. She held her head high, and was squeezing into her place, that was waiting for her, in this sport.”

A quick flash of 16 year old you, holding your first F3 trophy, was shown on screen.

Vito kept talking as the scene changed to you walking around your motor home, greeting everyone who was there. They knew what had happened, and comforted you with words and hugs. You were thankful for them.

“She also lost her godfather Lorenzo in January 2020. It was heartbreaking to hear her over the phone. Her debut in F2 was the next day. I told her that she didn’t have to, but she insisted that she needed to race, to win.”

The camera followed 17 year old you, helmet on and visor down, as you walked to your F2 car, shining with your new number.

“In less than 24 hours, she was back in the car.”

Your car sped down the straight, over the finish line.

“And she won.”

The scene shifted to 23 year old Max Verstappen handing you the big F2 trophy. Tears could be seen in your eyes as you took the cup and thanked him.

“Did you know?”

Max looked at her in bewilderment. “I didn’t. And you would have never guessed it. Y/n has her heart on her sleeve, everywhere she goes, except when she races.”

A quick cut now shows Christian back in the seat.

“The last driver I saw with that mental strength was Charles Leclerc. He previously lost his godfather, and then lost his father. A few days later he won his race. Y/n lost the only family she had in less than a year.” Christian laughed. “These rookies are built different. You’d think they were made for the earlier days of racing, with how much they put into it. But Y/n, I don’t know. Her aura commands attention.”

The scenes now shown are from multiple races.

The camera followed you as you walked through the crowded paddock, trying to get back to hospitality. You thought that it would be different, that you’d have to squeeze through to get by. But with each step you took, the people parted like water.

You flashed a smile at many fans who seemed awestruck to be in your presence.

A new driver is now in the seat.

“She’s almost like Charles, in a sense,” Lando said. “The two of them,” he looked around, “I don’t know. It’s hard to describe.”

“Can you try?” Lando shot her a cheeky grin. “They are basically the F1 royalty. Any driver has a ‘celebrity image’ and people are excited to see us outside. They ask to take pictures, but they also do things against us.”

The scene cuts to multiple instances of booing and pushing drivers.

“And yet, Charles and Y/n bend them to their will almost. They listen to them. The King and Queen of Formula 1.”

A video of you, Lando, Max, and Charles speaking before the Monaco Grand Prix plays.

“Ah, Max. Did I tell you that we have to address them as your highness now?”

Max looked up from his phone and followed Lando’s finger that was pointed at Charles and you, deep in conversation.

“No? Why?” Lando walked over and showed him the edit and comments on his phone.

The caption read “Y/n L/n and Charles Leclerc are F1 royalty and we need to address them as such.” The video that played started with a clip of Charles in Monaco, with the grid and Monegasque royalty behind him. He looked so majestic. It switched over to you in your home country, with a crowd around your pedestal. You hadn’t even won yet, and they looked at you as though you hung the moon. You stretched out your arms and the crowd roared.

Max looked back at the two, who were ignorantly blissed. Max looked up at Lando.

“You’re right.”

The camera is back to Charles.

His eyes were wide with eyebrows raised, “Lando really said that.” He smirked. Shuffling up to good posture he said, “I’m fine with that. Y/n has always been different, but in a good way. She knows what the people wants, but also doesn’t get caught up in all the PR. She’s herself.”

A clip of you with fans plays. Your smile was mirrored with theirs. Everyone wanted to see you, hug you, feel you. And the waves that were emanating from you only made the crowd happier.

Now, the seat is occupied by none other than Sir Lewis Hamilton.

“What do I think about Y/n?” he questions back to himself. “I know that she is one of the best rookies to ever come across in the world of Formula 1. I’ve had the opportunity to share podiums with so many drivers, but her? There’s something different.”

The scene flashes to a podium shared with you, Lewis, and Max. Lewis had been able to take the win, leaving you on the third step. You had almost had the win, but a late safety car ruined it. Lewis looked over at you, expecting a disappointed face. But all he saw was a smile that rivaled the sun.

“She never seems to be disappointed with anything. Even if she was to qualify in last place, she would still smile.” Lewis laughed. “And I think everyone loves her more than they realize.”

A small clip of you and a bulldog flashes across the screen. Roscoe was licking all over your face.

“Roscoe, stop!” But you were laughing, and the dog thought that he should continue. Lewis found the two of you in the middle of the floor in the Mercedes hospitality. A blanket was draped around your shoulders.

“And what are you doing here kid?” Lewis put his hands on his sides.

You shrugged. “Toto told me I could hang out here. Max is having one of those ‘adult meetings’ that Christian says my ears shouldn’t hear. I think they forget that I’m 21 now.”

Lewis just laughed, thinking of how Toto must have let you in and had given you a blanket as well. He just ruffled your hair and sat on the ground with you.

The scene changes one more time. You are now in the seat.

The interviewer asks, “Please state your name and your occupation.”

You smiled, “My name is Y/n L/n and I am a Formula 1 racer who drives for the Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula 1 Team. I also DJ,” you shot finger guns at the camera and clicked you mouth, “Thanks Lando.”

“How was your first season in Formula 1. You obviously showed the world of what you could do.”

You nodded before continuing, “The season went better than I expected. To place third in the driver’s championship as a rookie? Unheard of.” You smirked. “Until now.”

The person behind the camera continued, “You were only 10 points away from Charles Leclerc. How does that make you feel?”

You cocked your head. “It feels wonderful. Charles had a really good season.” You leaned in as though to tell a secret. “If anything, don’t tell Charles or Max I said this, but Max and I would rather lose to Charles than anyone else.”

“And why is that?”

You deadpanned. “Well Charles is Lightning McQueen incarnate and Max’s emotional support rival. Who else would we want?” People laughed in the background.

“Now that you know you could win a championship…”

You cut her off, “Oh I’ve always known I could win a championship. But I also know that I was born to break records. And right now, I’m on a path to help Max break the 7 streak.”

“Ah yes, sorry. What would you do after winning a championship.” You hadn’t seen Max slip in.

“I think I’d pull a Nico Rosenburg. Ya know? Retire while I’m ahead.”

“You would not do that!” Max said behind the camera and you looked straight at him.

“Yes I would.”

“No you wouldn’t. Because you said you were born to break records. Well Kid, if I make a record championship, you need to be the one to break it.”

Oh my gosh, I loved how this chapter turned out. And it is officially the longest chapter I have written so far – 6,077 words. Right now, I have to write the chapter for the last race of F2 and you readers have to pretend that it lands on a weekend that the F1 drivers can attend.

Also! I am pleased to announce that the first few chapters of a new series will be out shortly! It is called “Besties for the Resties” and it’s how you got close with many of the drivers. Not all of them will have their own chapter and not all the drivers are being written about. So please be aware that this will not be going over 10 chapters!

Thank you to all my readers and Happy Thanksgiving!

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hollandsangel · 16 days

Text

casual | m. sturniolo

i’ve been scheming for weeks !! (actually started this before move over AND voice. so.)

basically i’m obsessed with this song

summary: the most dangerous label is the casual one; or you both want more

warnings: matt x fem!reader, use of y/n, ANGST, cursing, happy ending bc i’m a sucker & a lost cause

wc: 6.5k

the sun is dipping behind the horizon, painting the sky pink and orange. you have your window rolled down, letting the salt air breeze pick your hair up as you rest against the car door. matt has elmer’s new song playing on aux, something lofi with a bit of spanish mixed in.

“like what you see?” he speaks up, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look over at you. he stares for a second, your skin illuminated by the fading rays of the sun, kissing the tops of your cheeks and giving you a warm glow.

you press yourself up to sit properly and catch his hand resting on the center console. you always loved that he drives with his left hand, the right always close enough for you to touch.

“it’s pretty,” you say, poking your head back out of the window, looking overhead at the passing trees, “the palms are so tall.” matt squeezes your hand, and when you look back up he’s already looking at you, smiling when you meet his eyes.. his hair looks lighter in the setting sun, the side of his face lit up all golden and warm. you bite your lip and smile, turning away with a slight flush.

“it’s green,” you tell him and he flicks his head back forward, muttering a curse under his breath.

“my bad,” he admits, refusing to drop your hand.

it looked like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, just takes a breath and lets it out before turning back to the road.

when the car pulls into the garage you reach to the back to grab your overnight bag. matt’s already out of the car, coming over to your side to open your door, “c’mon,” he says in that silly high pitched voice, just to hear you giggle.

you make your way to his bedroom, knowing the ins and outs of the triplet’s house like the back of your hand. matt follows behind you, his footsteps echoing amongst the hardwood floors.

“i can’t wait to lay down,” you sigh, the effects of the sun's heat catching up with you now that you’re in the cool, air conditioned house.

“yeah, i’m feelin’ pretty tired too,” matt agrees, his voice heavy and suddenly cloaked by fatigue.

you’d been out all day, shopping on melrose, walking by the beach. dinner and ice cream and the beating sun soaked up all your energy. nothing sounded better than getting cozy in matt’s bed and watching a movie, maybe catching a bit of a nap before deciding to head home. you knew he’d insist on driving you, and that always hurt more than you’d like to admit.

the two of you weren’t dating, he wasn’t your boyfriend and you told yourself you didn’t mind. it wasn’t a very convincing lie though, most everyone around you could tell. it’s not that you hadn’t talked about it, you had, there were just things getting in the way.

matt was worried about how his fans would react, and he absolutely did not want it to be at your expense. you hated the thought of pushing him, like forcing him or asking too much, being too needy would only drive him away. all your friends had told you to stop, that you were only going to get yourself hurt, but you’d honestly rather have half of him and a broken heart than none of him at all.

you never doubted that he cares about you, in fact you know he does. he always picks you up from classes, knows your order at all your favourite fast food places and keeps an extra toothbrush in the bathroom for you. it’s things like that that make the title of causal or just seeing each other sting a little bit more.

here though, all settled in matt’s bed, you try not to think about it too hard. there’s some liam neeson movie he insisted on showing you playing on the tv, and you’re happy to be watching it, but mostly happy to be watching it with him. his chest rises and falls under your head with each breath and it’s making you more tired than before.

“i’m so warm,” you say through a yawn, all comfy now in your sweats and matt’s crewneck, although the comfort comes mostly from his arms wrapped around your middle.

“you can throw on a pair of boxers if you want, top drawer,” matt offers, his arms unmoving, keeping you mildly trapped against him.

“let me goooo,” you groan dramatically, making a big show of sliding out from under his arms and grinning to yourself when he laughs.

“come back,” he pouts, reaching for a stuffed animal to take your place while you cross the room to his dresser.

“just give me a sec,” you giggle, rummaging around in the drawer and pulling out a pair of plaid boxers. there’s something stuck to it, all tangled up in the mess of his clothes, “what the– is this my bra? i’ve been looking for this for like a month.”

matt lifts his head just enough to see what you’re holding up, huffing when he hits the pillow again, “i dunno, sweetheart, you probably left it, you’ve got a lot of stuff here,” he sounds tired, and the words are pressed against his pillow now that he’s rolled onto his stomach.

you’ve got lots of stuff here.

it digs into you, how casually he says it, an almost physical ache you feel beyond your ribs, right where your heart is.

quickly you try to shake it off, shucking off your sweatpants and sliding the boxers up your legs so you can hurry back into bed before allowing yourself to think about what he said too much.

“c’mere,” there’s a little smile on his face when he says it, arm outstretched for you to crawl under. immediately matt tucks you up against his body impossibly close, his nose stuffed into your hair and breathing you in. it feels nice, right, and you let yourself bask in it, like maybe the state of your relationship (or lack thereof) won’t be in limbo forever. he has to feel it too, the pull.

“i think you should just stay tonight,” he says quietly against your temple, leaving a little kiss there.

“are you sure?”

he nods, “it’s late, ‘m not gonna kick you out,” you can see his smile in the dark, his features lit up delicately by the dim light of the movie, “and i kinda wanna cuddle,” he admits sheepishly, trying to hide his blush when you turn to him.

“awe, matty,” you tease, scooching closer to him, hardly an inch away.

“hey,” he says all high pitched, making you laugh again.

“that voice always gets me,” you tell him, snuggling up under his chin.

“that’s why i do it,” he tells you.

it doesn’t take long for you to slip into an easy sleep with matt holding you, the mindless noise coming from the tv luring you deeper into unconsciousness. he’s being extra gentle, finger tips dragging along your waist under your top. you hardly feel him slide out of bed or tuck you in all snug under the covers.

nick’s in the kitchen when matt emerges from his bedroom for some water, hunting for something in the pantry. matt rubs his eyes.

“hello?” chris leans forward on the couch, his voice startling matt.

“jesus, what– you’re just both out here at fucking two in the morning?” he grumbles, eyes squinted against the harsh lights.

“we ordered food,” chris stands up, walking into the kitchen.

nick nods, closing the cupboard, glass in hand, “we thought you were at y/n’s or something, i didn’t hear you come in,”

matt grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and a takes a sip before answering, “nah she’s here, she’s asleep,” he says, nodding towards his bedroom.

nick groans, “god, are you guys dating yet,” he asks, head rolling back against his shoulders, exsapertated.

matt’s eyes widen at the sudden outburst of noise, looking back at his door to make sure nick didn’t wake you, “dude, be quiet,” he urges.

you’d felt matt’s absence after a few minutes, the warmth of his body leaving the bed when he did. slowly you sit up, pressing the heel of your palm into your eye and swinging your feet to the floor quietly. you stand behind matt’s closed bedroom door, prepared to silently creep out and go to the bathroom when you catch his voice.

“and no,we’re just casual,” he continues to answer nick’s question, who glances over and chris. “what— don’t look at him like that,” this earns him another sideye, “i mean it, it’s not serious.”

“matthew” nick starts, “isn’t she asleep in your bed right now?” nick points an accusatory finger in his brother’s direction, emphasizing his words.

it’s matt’s turn to look at chris, who holds his hands up in surrender, “don’t look at me, i’m with nick,” he says, looking away from his brother from where he remains on the couch.

“well she’s not my girlfriend, if that’s where this is going,” matt turns back to the fridge, not really looking for anything, just trying to hide from his brother’s judgmental, but justified, stares.

it hurts to hear, even if you know it’s the truth.

“and why not, idiot,” nick asks, getting fed up. he can clearly tell how his brother feels and is getting frustrated, mad even, with the idea of him toying with your feelings.

“i just—i just can’t do it.” that hurts more, a sharp pain you feel in your chest. you swallow dryly, and that hurts too.

you decide you don’t have to go to the bathroom that badly anymore, and slowly sink back into matt’s bed. you know you and matt aren’t together, that he’s not your boyfriend, but a part of you has always clung to the idea that one day he would be, that he’d finally make the move. you thought he liked you enough to at least try.

tugging the duvet up to your chin you roll over onto your side to face the wall. matt comes back into the bedroom and you can hear nick and chris talking quietly for a second before the door closes again. you’re not too sure, but you think one of them mumbles your name amidst the conversation. matt slides back under the covers with you, coming as close as he can to wrap his arms around you.

it makes your head spin, his words rattling around in your mind, saying he “can’t do it,” but here is, body tucked perfectly against yours, holding you so tight you’d think he never wanted to let go.

—

matt seems notice that you’re a bit quieter than usual the next morning, but you try to hide it under the excuse of not feeling well. he offers to drop you off and you take him up on it, knowing that marinating in the misery you feel won’t solve anything but seems to be the easiest thing to do at the moment.

“text me if you need anything, okay?” his tone is concerned and you can feel him looking at you even though you’re trying to avoid eye contact. you know you’d cave, catching a glimpse of the light blue with all that worry clouding it.

“yeah, i will,” you sigh, reaching into the back seat to grab your bag.

matt catches you, palm placed delicately along your jaw so you’ll look at him, “hey,” he says all soft, “c’mere,” he guides you forward slightly and you know what’s coming, you know it’s gonna hurt but you do it anyway.

he kisses you gently and you fall into it with ease, reaching out to touch his arm. when he strokes his thumb along your cheekbone you pull away, licking your lips.

“i’ve gotta go,” you whisper, afraid the full volume of your voice would shatter something, you’re not too sure what.

“yeah, okay,” he nods, pulling his hand away from your face and trying to smile as you open your door, watching you walk into your building.

he stays there in the parked car for a minute, wondering what’s wrong, pretending he doesn’t know that this whole situation hurts you just as much as it hurts him. he’s staring up at your apartment window, tapping the steering wheel and taking a long, deep breath.

“fuck,” he mutters to himself, pushing his hair back and putting the car in reverse.

—

you and matt don’t talk excessively for the next few days, only a few texts exchanged here and there and one phone call after he knew you’d just written a midterm.

he called to ask how it went and tell you he was proud of you, and also to invite you out to dinner with his parents on the upcoming weekend. they were flying out to l.a. for a few days and he wanted you to meet them. it felt cruel.

“i dunno matt, i’ve got an assignment due sunday at midnight, i might not be able to make it,” of course you wanted to go, but the tug of self preservation was starting to become more equal to the pull you felt towards him. you were starting to lose sight of what was more important, him or yourself.

for so long it had been him.

“please, sweetheart, i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever,” matt slumps into his desk chair, spinning back forth.

you cave and somehow your vision clears. it was him again.

“yeah, yeah, okay, i wanna see you too,”

matt smiles on the other end of the phone, “yay,” he says sweetly, making his joy obvious, “i can help you with your assignment if you want, too,” he offers, and you know he’s just trying to get a smile out of you.

you laugh without meaning to, “matt, you know nothing about the course,”

“i’ll figure it out, anything i can do to make sure i see you,”

you bite your lip, trying to keep a smile at bay, “careful, you’re gonna make me think you like me or something,”

“aw, well i can’t have that now can i?” he teases, and it cuts deeper than he realizes it does.

“no,” you mutter, trying to hold onto the smile on your face even though matt can’t see you, “um, i should probably get going, if i wanna finish my assignment on time,”

“oh, yeah, okay. i could come by a little later with some food?” he poses it as a question, sensing your hesitancy.

“you don’t have to do that,”

“i know, but i want to,” he says it so easily, like there’s no reason in the world he wouldn’t come to your house after eleven pm just to sit on your bedroom floor while you do school work.

“canes?” you finally offer.

“be there in half an hour.” you hear the car keys jingle through the phone, the front door latching shut.

—

the triplet’s parents land on friday afternoon. you haven’t seen matt since wednesday night when he called and brought take out to your place, and you’re starting to feel a little nervous at the thought of seeing his parents.

you’ve spoken to them over facetime once or twice when matt had called them, but this is real, this is serious.

you think you’ve completely driven yourself insane with that, thinking of it as serious. for days there’s been a battle in your head about whether or not this means matt wants to make your relationship offical. it’s become such a problem that you’ve forbidden yourself from thinking about it.

taking a deep breath you refocus on yourself in the mirror, fixing your hair and trying to decide on a lip product for the night when your roomate wanders into your bedroom.

“how are you doing?” she asks, leaning against the door frame. you don’t answer, just look up at her with what must be a miserable expression, because she chuckles sadly at you, “that bad, huh?”

you groan and clench your fists, “i’m just confused!” you exclaim.

“i know, but i think tonight should clear some things up,” she tells you hopefully, and you really want to believe her.

“i hope so,” you sigh, “i just really like him,” you whine, defeated.

your phone dings then, a message from matt of course.

matt sturn

be there in twenty

ive got the kids

you laugh sadly at the text.

“‘s that him?” your roommate asks.

“yeah, him and his brothers are on the way, they’ll be here soon.”

“you’ll do great, don’t sweat it,” she tries to reassure you, giving you an over enthusiastic thumbs up before shutting your door again.

matt, nick and chris have been in the car for about five minutes and already matt’s debating driving into oncoming traffic. him and his brothers have had the same fight at least three times since you stayed over last week, and if he’s honest, he’s getting really sick of it.

“enough of this ‘i can’t do that’ bullshit, matt, she’s coming to dinner with our parents,” nick says pointedly, running out of air at the end of his setence, “you don’t just bring your hook up to that shit, so fucking stop talking to her if it’s that much of an issue,” he continues, leaning froward against matt’s seat, staring holes into the side of his brothers face.

matt is clearly aggravated, gripping the wheel a little too hard, “shut the fuck up, nick— she’s not just a hook up,”

nick’s eyes get wider at this and he leans over matt’s seat, voice exponentially louder when he says, “you just proved my fucking point!!”

“you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” matt mumbles in a deft tone, staring harshly out onto the road.

chris leans over from the passenger seat, gesturing in matt’s direction, “and you do? you never shut the fuck up about her, and she’s always at the house but you’re too much of a pussy to do anything,” he yells over matt all in one breath, words coming out too fast.

matt’s mouth is set in a firm line and he’s shaking his head, “you guys don’t get it!” he finally yells back, signaling and switching lanes before he can finish his thought, “i can’t do that to her,” the car’s stopped at a red light now, allowing him to look nick in the eye from the rearview mirror. both him and chris shut up for a second.

“i can’t do that to her,” matt emphasizes again, making his point with his hands, bracketing the last two words, “the internet would chew her up and spit her out. you think i don’t want to make her my girlfriend? do you think i like doing this to her? every fucking day i think about cutting it off because i don’t wanna hurt her, but i’m too fucking selfish to do it.”

“it’s green,” chris mumbles.

“shut the fuck up,” matt says through his teeth as he turns back to face the road, driving through the light.

“so what are you gonna do?” nick asks, softer now, arm hung over the back of matt’s seat.

matt looks up at him in the rearview again, taking a deep, anxiety ridden breath, “i don’t know.”

the three boys are silent for the remainder of the drive to your apartment. matt puts the car in park and mumbles something about being right back before getting out and heading up to your floor, slamming the car door a little bit too hard.

“jesus christ,” chris breathes, feeling the tension finally break.

there’s a knock at the front door, and you take a deep breath before opening it. matt stands with his hair a little bit messy and his cheeks a little bit red, but he softens when he sees you.

“hey,” you say, “let me just grab my bag,”

“wait, y/n,”

“yeah?” you turn back around to look at him. he’s standing in the middle of your kitchen, looking a little bit deflated.

“can i have a hug?”

your heart nearly shatters. is he feeling it too?

“wha– of course baby, of course,” you cross the kitchen over to him and he already has his arms open. immediately he locks his arms around your waist, resting his head against yours. you gently rub his back and rest your cheek on his shoulder.

“is everything okay?” you wonder after a second, feeling him breathe heavily against you.

matt squeezes you a little tighter and kisses your hair, “yeah,” he sighs, “nick and chris are just annoying,”

“you love them though,” you remind him.

he pulls away but keeps you close, hands on your hips now, “sometimes i think about reevaluating that,”

you laugh at him, fixing his messy hair, “no you don’t,”

its his turn to smile, “you’re right,” he leans in for a quick kiss which you grant him, letting it dampen your nerves and reservations on the evening.

“i know, now c’mon, we’ve gotta go,” you slide your hand down into his.

“you don’t have to be nervous, by the way,” matt says to you in the elevator, still holding your hand.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and he squeezes your hand, letting you know he’s there for you, “it just feels serious,” you finally admit what you’ve been thinking for the last few days. you’re a little bit afraid to look over at him, so you keep your gaze towards the closed elevator doors.

matt gives your hand a quick squeeze and glances at the side of your face, you can feel his eyes on you, “it’s not serious, don’t worry,” it’s a little strained when he says it, as if he means something else but you can’t quite decipher it. it’s too much to think about now and yet it’s all you’ve been thinking about for days, how ‘unserious’ it all is to him.

when you do get to dinner, marylou and jimmy are already at the restaurant. marylou is being so sweet to you, asking about classes and how you met the boys, what you like do to in your spare time and things about matt that you tease him over. you feel like a girlfriend, you feel like his girlfriend and you don't think you can take much more of it. she tells you how much he talks about you when he’s home, that even justin has started making fun of him for it.

when you look over at matt he’s blushing but staring directly into his plate, avoiding you.

the smile you plastered onto your face fades and you dig your nails into your plam under the table.

“excuse me, i’m gonna run to the bathroom,” you say to no one in particular, catching nick’s eyes. he seems to notice your pleading gaze, and sends you a text after you’ve left the table

nick stromboli

you okay?

you lock yourself in the single bathroom and stand staring at your phone screen.

you

this is brutal

your mom is being sooo sweet but matt won’t even look at me

i feel like he's embarrassed

nick stromboli

he's actually the biggest idiot that ever lived

chris is lowk giving him a death stare rn

nick was being serious, chris staring at matt as marylou goes on about how nice you are.

nick elbows matt in the side and he looks over, more than slightly fed up.

“i think you should go check on y/n,” he whispers, making matt perk up a bit in worry.

“why?”

“i don’t think she’s feeling good,”

“oh, i hope she’s okay,” marylou interrupts herself.

“i’ll be right back,” matt stands from the table and walks to the bathroom, knocking on the door gently, “y/n/n? it’s me sweetheart,”

a slight panic drops through you as you push away from where you were leaning against the wall, trying to catch your breath.

“c’mon let me in, nick said you weren’t feeling good,” he knows you were nervous about tonight, and he’s hoping that’s all it is, that he can fix it.

you sigh, head tossed back to your shoulders as you breathe out before letting him in, hoping you look more composed than you feel.

“hey, you okay?” he asks gently, closing the door behind him.

“yeah, uh, i think i’m gonna go,” you mumble, looking away.

“what? d–do you want like a gingerale or something?” his brows are pinched and he’s reaching out for you. you step back without thinking about it. you don’t even notice you’d done it until you see the hurt look on his face. he reaches out again, slower this time.

“y/n…”

something in you clicks, or comes crashing down when his fingers brush your wrist, “i’m not your girlfriend matt, stop worrying about me like i am,”

he's a little bit stunned at that and pulls back, saying your name again.

“no, don’t do that, i heard what you said to the guys last week, and you keep telling me we’re causal and we can’t be anything but we’re at dinner with your fucking parents. i can’t keep prenteding to be your girlfriend, or–or that it doesn’t hurt, i just can’t do it anymore,”

there’s tears in your eyes you don’t notice until matt whispers, “don’t cry,”

“i’m going crazy,” you tell him, voice so soft, so fragile that his heart breaks a little bit.

“no you’re not, c’mon– we can work this out,” the words are so comforting, and normally he’s the one you’d run to for comfort, but he’s hurting you.

“are we gonna make it official, matt? or are we just gonna keep sleepingover at eachother’s houses four days a week and tell all our friend we aren’t dating?” you ask, pressing your fingertips underneath your eyes, “are we gonna do this for real or are you gonna keep telling your parents about me when you’re in boston, and–and keep coming to my house after midnight with take out just because i don’t wanna be alone working on assignments,” he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with a solemn look, so you keep going.

“i can’t take the sorry fucking look chris keeps giving me when i’m walking out of your room, it hurts, matt,”

he steps forward finally, trying to make up for more than the physical space that separates you, “no, c’mon, just–just come back to the table. i’ll stay at yours tonight and we’ll talk about this,”

you hold back a scoff at the irony of him mentioning he’ll stay over, “i need an answer now.” you tell him. he’s gone back to standing a few feet away from you, not touching you anymore.

“an answer for what?”

“can you commit to this now? to me?” you feel like you’re pleading with him and you hate how desperate it is.

“we aren’t having this conversation in the bathroom right now, can we please just talk about it later?” matt asks.

you shake your head, “matt, we’ve been doing this for four months, i don’t wanna wait any longer, i’m not a toy.”

he stares at you, licking his lips. you stare back, suffocating in his silence. it’s all the answer you need.

“i’m gonna go,” you mutter, “tell your parents it was really nice to meet them, and that i’m sorry for leaving,” you add, looking away when you walk passed him to open the door.

you leave the restaurant and call an uber, hardly sparing a glance in the direction of his family’s table on your way out.

“is y/n okay?” jimmy asks when matt comes back alone.

matt shoves a hand into his hair to push it back, not meeting anybody’s eyes, “she went home, she wasn’t feeling good”

“and you didn’t offer to take her?” marylou scolds, sure she raised her son better than that.

“she didn’t want me to,” matt admits, defeated.

nick and chris share a look, knowing that isn’t the whole truth, or really the truth at all.

—

a few days later, after their parents had gone back to boston, matt’s shuffling into nick’s bedroom, where him and chris are laying on the bed on their phones.

matt looks a mess, hair wild and eyes sunken in. he’s been in his bedroom all day, blinds drawn and door latched shut

nick thinks he’s wearing a hoodie of yours, the faded smell of your perfume lingering when his brother walks in.

“…you okay?” nick asks, glancing up from his phone.

matt shakes his head and sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes with his fists, “i feel like fucking shit,” he admits, still looking down, “i hate that i hurt her,” he tells the two, as if his brothers weren’t already acutely aware, “i was trying so hard to keep from hurting her and i fucking did it anyway,” they wait for matt to finish, knowing he has a little more to say, “i was so fucking scared of making things offical that i lost her all together, she’s never gonna talk to me again,”

nick sighs and looks over at chris, the two of them sharing a sympathetic look before he moves forward and puts his arm around matt, who slumps against his shoulder, “that's not true,” nick says, “she probably should never talk to you again, but she’s a good person, and she’s our friend,”

“yeah, and she cares about you a lot, matt.” chris adds, sitting on the matt’s other side.

matt groans and covers his face, “i know, and that’s what sucks,” he wipes his palms over his face, “god, why was i so fucking stupid?”

“because you really like her,” chris offers, “and you’re gonna try and make it up to her…right?”

matt sits back up, staring at the wall, “i dunno, i want to, i don’t…” he takes a deep breath, willing the pit in his stomach to go away, “i’m more afraid of losing her all together than i was of any of that other shit, but i don’t know how to fix…this,” he says, dejected.

nick perks up, because he’s never seen matt half as lively as he is when he’s with you, or talking about you. he’s pretty sure matt was on his way to falling in love with you (if he hasn’t already) and refuses to let him lose hope,“i have an idea,” he says.

matt looks at his brother, desperate. the circles under his eyes a shade too dark, his cheeks sunken in, his lips chapped. nick continues.

“we’ll need waffles.”

—

it’s been over a week and a half since you walked out of the restaurant, and since you’d spoken to matt. nick’s been messaging you, asking if you’re okay and telling you he’s there for you. there’s been a bit of him telling you how stupid matt is, which you’d agreed with solemnly.

nick’s messaging you now. you’re posted up at your kitchen table trying to review for one of your exams, but more so warding off another wave of tears, pressing your fingertips into your eyes.

you pick up your phone to answer the message nick had sent, something about a sleepover at your place this weekend and a promise of a hannah montana binge, but there’s a knock at your door. you’re confused at first, wondering who’s at your door this late.

“did you order food?” you ask your roommate as you get up, looking in through the crack of her barely opened door. her headphones are on and she's hunched over a textbook with a highlighter, oblivious to any visitors.

your heartbeat speeds up a little bit as you begin to think about who’s on the other side. with a huff you look through the peephole, met with a slightly distorted image of matt anxiously shifting his weight from foot to foot.

he keeps looking down the hallway and biting the inside of his cheek. he’s holding something. a paper bag in one hand and a bouquet of delicately wrapped flowers in the other.

you turn the lock, hand shaking a little bit as the door swings open. he whips his head from where he was looking down the hall to the now open door, your eyes locking immediately.

“matt,” you whisper, not even meaning to say it.

he stares at you for a second, seemingly forgetting any words he would have said for a second before holding up the bag.

“i brought waffles.”

—

“please let me in,” he says breathlessly, as if he was holding his breath waiting for you to open the door. “i know i probably don’t deserve a chance, and you probably don’t wanna hear me out, but…but please,” he licks his lips, grip tightening on the stems of the flowers, (you didn’t think he was listening when you told him your favourites all those months ago) “i miss you,” it’s quiet, the way he says it. he’s pleading with you.

there’s an ache in your chest, you’re trying not to mistake his tenderness for pity. and yet you still find yourself letting him in.

“okay,” it takes so little convincing. you missed him too.

there’s little talking at first, mostly just you and matt grabbing plates down and dishing yourselves out. he went to your favourite diner, because of course he did. the waffles are still warm and are making your kitchen smells like butter and sausage. you move your books and laptop out of the way to make room for the two of you to sit, elbows touching when you start to eat.

you’re half way through your first waffle when matt speaks up. you could feel him staring, his body half turned towards you in his chair. some of your hair falls into your face and his finger twitches before you tuck it away. all he wants to do it touch you. hold you, kiss you, anything. he’s such a jerk.

“i’m sorry,”

you freeze for a second, still facing away from him. after you finish chewing you set your fork down and turn slowly, finally looking him in the eyes. the blue has grown a shade too dark, melancholic.

“for what?” you ask stupidly, just needing to know how he’s felt about it all.

“fuck, everything?” he says, forcefully pushing his hair away from his eyes.

you shake your head and turn back to your plate.

“y/n,” he sighs, “c’mon look at me,”

you do, but it hurts.

“i’m sorry for what happened at the restaurant, and i’m sorry things got so out of hand and–and that…this went on for so long,” he gestures between the two of you, fixing his wild hair again.

“this?” you ask, voice breaking, thinking the worst, that he regrets it all, that it’s over. it’s really over.

“this stupid fucking dance we’ve been doing for four months, it’s crazy. it was always crazy.”

you huff, probably a little bit too dramatically as you shift to face him fully, “matt, what are you saying?”

“i’m saying that i like you! and it was so stupid to fucking…dilute that becuase i was scared or some shit,” the latter end of his sentence loses volume, he’s getting shy again.

“but–but you just wanted to be casual–” you start, looking down at your crossed legs.

“no, i never wanted to be fucking casual, i was just…. fuck i was just scared.” he says around a mouthful of waffle. the air smells like syrup.

“i wanna be with you all the time, i like you so much– i just– at first i didn’t want things to be weird between us, which is why i thought a relationship was the wrong idea, but then we started…doing relationship things and it only got better.” he starts, messing with his hair and pushing his food around his plate, “after i stopped being so afraid of that i just, i got scared of another thing,” he finally looks up at you, eyes a little sad, a little heavy.

you can tell that he knows how he’s made you feel, and despite that you hate that he’s sad. you never want him to be sad.

matt continues, “i’d hate for you to get hurt because of my fans, and i knew it was gonna be hard to keep things private, to keep things…ours. i thought that was something i didn't wanna do or i wasn't ready for but…” he sighs, cutting himself off and taking in another big breath. you want to reach out and rub his back, knowing he’s anxious and just trying to calm himself down.

“you being mad at me i can deal with,” he starts again, “you being mad, or–or upset because of me, is harder to handle, but fuck, not having you at all? that's worse than anything else we’d have to face,” he looks up, dead into your eyes to make sure you understand the weight of what he’s about to say, “together.”

“matt…” you whisper. you’ve forgotten about the food. it’s getting cold but it doesn’t matter.

he shakes his head before meeting your eyes again, “i’d rather go through all that bullshit with you than go through nothing without you,” he sounds so sincere that you think your heart skips a beat.

“what are you—”

“i wanna do this. for real.” he nods once, watching you closely.

“do you mean that?” he hates how doubtful you sound and he hates that he’s the one to have put all that doubt there. he thinks you might cry.

“y–yeah of course i mean it. i should have said it a long time ago, and if it makes you feel any better nick’s been giving me shit for like, two months, and i think chris wanted to beat me up last week.” he offers you half a smile, hoping you’ll give one back.

instead you breathe out laugh. he basks in it.

“i want you to be my girlfriend,” you’re looking down again and your hair falls from it’s place behind your ear. he doesn’t stop himself this time, nimble, ring adorned finger pushing it back, “i wanna be your boyfriend,”

you look up at him, studying his face for a second before you speak. he looks tired and a little worn, like he’s been thinking too much and too hard and worrying even more.

“yeah?” you finally say.

matt smiles at you. he has such a pretty smile.

“yeah.” he nods, smiling now.

“so we’re not just casual?”

matt scoffs out a laugh and stands. you stand too and he wraps his arms around you, tucking his chin atop your head when your arms go over his shoulders. he kisses your hair and breathes you in, the lingering scent of your shampoo and your perfume and you. it’s all over his clothes and his sheets, but nothing beats having you in his arms again.

“we were never just causal,” he assures you, as if you didn’t know.

tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose @strnilolo @cherrypostsposts

also tagging some of my faves (writers & other creators!!) 🥹 @pettydollie @wcters @grimholic @floristmatt (if you don’t wanna be tagged lmk!!)

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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thehighladywrites · 13 days

Text

— “Do you eat pussy like that?”

☀︎ — pairing: nerd/tutor azriel x bimbo/ditzy reader

☀︎ — summary: you’re ovulating, insanely horny and thinking about putting your hands down his pants in the middle of the cafeteria

☀︎ — warnings: smut, nsfw, public display of affection, Azriel is a little stern, like a tiny bit, pussy eating, riding, ovulation

☀︎ — amara’s note: this was so fun to write, i love freaky bimbo reader, she’s so fun. also very realistic bc i too would wanna put my hands in azriel’s pants. and don’t mind the fact that this is complete nonsense. idk wtf is happening💗

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You should’ve known azriel was an eater.

Whenever he ate, he did it like he was out of breath, inhaling his food and munching on it. He did this thing where he’d lean over his plate, shuffle food into his mouth, head tilting a little to the left, eyes closed and everything. It reminded you of the way he tilted his head when he kissed you.

He ate with such need and energy that you couldn’t help the dirty thoughts in your little brain. But it’s not even your fault, it’s his. Who the hell eats like he does?

You can't help but giggle whenever you watch Azriel eat, finding it very cute that he devours his food. It’s like, he really loves his meals, you know?

But then you remembered last night when you jumped on him while he was working on his computer. He looked so cute and focused, but his hands... so fucking hot, they looked so good. Like, seriously, how can hands be so attractive? Maybe it was the ring, maybe it was the bracelet or maybe it was because you wanted to gag on them.

You knew you were ovulating, it was no surprise. You basically turn into a succubus, hellbent on getting slutted and fucked. Azriel is there, so naturally you want him to take care of it.

I mean, who else could help you? Getting off yourself is so much work and doesn’t feel nearly as good as when he does it.

“Azzie, i missed you sosososooo much!!” you strolled towards him with a massive smile. Azriel turned around at the sound of your pink, fluffy heels klicking against the cafeteria floor.

He gave you the kindest smile as you approached him, lifting his arm so you have room to lean against him. You had different classes in the morning, so you met him for lunch. you sit next to him, scooting as close as you can. If you could, you’d sit on top of him but you were in the cafeteria so you had to settle for leaning with your face nuzzled against his neck.

There he was, eating like he always did. But today, you couldn’t stop your thoughts. He was eating too good. You wanted to tell him, so you did.

“Hi, my sweet girl. I hope you had a good lecture. What do you want to do after classes?”

You sighed. You were dangerously horny, it was a miracle you didn’t put your hand down his pant, honestly.

“Hmm, I wanna be fingered, i want my pussy ate then i wanna be fucked for hours, pretty please?” you mumbled against his neck, kissing and licking a stripe.

Azriel started coughing, nearly choking on his food.

“And, uh, another thing. D’ya eat pussy like that?” you asked with hope, a french tip pointing to his plate.

“Oh my god, uh — okay, so, baby, you — you can’t just say stuff like that in public, okay?” he exclaimed, his cheeks flushing as he glanced around nervously.

“Why not? I want my boyfriend, there's no shame in it!” you declared, pursing your glossed lips, with your hands folded over your half-exposed tits.

Azriel nervously glanced around as you put a leg over his thigh. “Please help me, i’ll totally die if you don’t.”

“Okay, sure, but why are you so — um, frisky?" Azriel asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of nervousness. A nervousness that increased as you pressed your tits against him.

“I don’t know what that means.” You replied, tilting your head slightly in confusion, your ditzy demeanor showing through.

“Um, sexually charged,” Azriel tried to explain, his hands moving mid-air in an attempt to convey his meaning.

“I’m ovulating, Azzie. aka i need you inside, like right in this moment — like in this second, now.” your nail tapped quickly against the dining hall’s table, a sign of your impatience. “Please stop talking nonsense, i don’t know about sexually charged, m’just horny.”

“Right, right. I read about that. Okay, let’s go. Do you want my dorm or your apartment?” Azriel questioned as he stood up, lifting you from the bench.

That little move of him lifting you without hesitation or struggle made your jaw drop. Your hands automatically moved towards his belt, and a sweet expression crossed your face as you stared up at him, completely flustered.

“Yours.”

Azriel stopped you before you could bend down and blow him infront of people. He led you by the hand, your thoughts completely cleared, except for one thought.

You were SO gonna get it.

—

He’s so gentle. The way the flat of his tongue drags between your folds is ungodly to stay the least, the lewd squelching of his tongue flicking your glistening, throbbing clit.

“You okay? Holy shit you weren’t lying, you’re incredibly wet,” his fingers come to touch you, almost slipping in with no difficulty.

“mm-yeah, m’so good. J’st keep your mouth riiiight there,” you hummed, dragging his head back as you shifted his head a little to the left. He inserted one finger, then added another before curling them, just like he was taught.

You felt his tongue press against your clit at the same time, your hands gripping his shoulders in order to not writhe away.

“ ‘s really s-sensitive, ‘nd it feels so, so good, az.” He flushes, cheeks reddened at your sweet, whines and moans.

“so sweet.. you’re so sweet, baby.” he doesn’t stop when he speaks. instead, he continues to lap at your cunt, his face evidently beginning to get wet from the mix of your slick and his saliva.

It’s so messy, but he’s loving every second of it even when your juices wet his chin and entire mouth. You’re so close to sliding off his bed with the way you’re writhing away. But it’s like you have to! If he keeps his work up, you’ll cum all over his face in seconds.

“Stop tryna run away, you haven’t even finished yet.” He drags you closer to him by your thighs as he locks his arm around your legs.

“A—azzie! s-slow down, ‘m gon-gonna cum too quick if you keep goin’.”

He doesn’t slow down, and he definitely doesn’t stop. Instead you feel his tongue lap your cunt as he sneakily bring his hand up to your clit rubbing it softly.

When you cum, he just moves you on top of him with no warning. You had been begging to ride, whining about how you’d feel fuller if you were on top. As much as Azriel loves you, your whining was making him wanna check you.

“There. Now will you be good and ride? Hm?” He squeezes your waist as you put your hands on his toned stomach with a smile.

“Mm-hm, I’ll ride.”

Azriel is left damn near paralyzed after. He is sweating, trembling, dying.

You on the other hand couldn’t possibly be more content. He had given you a good dicking :)

🏷️: @ithan-holstroms-girl @whatdoyxumean @honeybeeboobaa @to-be-written @sidthedollface2 @stasiereads @amara-moonlight @thescooby-gang @linoisqt @mischiefmanagers @tortured-artists @scoobies @caroline-books @kalulakunundrum @meshelleexplosionmurder @danikamariewrites @clairebear08 @redbleedingrose @jeannineee @nocasdatsgay @v3lv3tf0x @liati2000 @teenageeggscissorslawyer @impossibelle @stonerpersona @dreamlandreader @djaaaa @callmeblaire @thelov3lybookworm @polli05927 @ahitsalyssa @evergreenlark @thegirlintheshadows101 @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @readychilledwine @daycourtofficial @azriels-shadowsinger @sapphicmsmarvel @hungryforbatboys @justasillylittlegoofyguy @luvmoo @emryb @meritxellao @mochibabycakes @artists-ally @azzieslittlebunny @berryzxx @sweetshifter @lilah-asteria @hannzoaks @throneofsmut

if ur username is in bold, i couldn’t tag you ;(

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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months

Text

Tattoos

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You have pens

"Sorry," Mumma says as she bounces you on her hip," She's in a grumpy mood today."

You grunt, angling your head away as Tia Patri tries to rub at your cheek.

"Very grumpy," Tia Patri notes before smiling at you anyway and waving you goodbye.

"Okay," Mumma says, readjusting her grip on you so you can tuck your head into the crook of her neck," There we go. I think someone needs a little nap."

"No," You whine," No nap...jus'...jus' you. Jus' Mumma."

"Okay," Mumma agrees," Just Mumma."

You've been out of whack ever since the flight over for the semifinal Champion's League match. Mapi's still returning from her knee injury so she's been dropped to the bench and continues her rehab even though she's on the squad list so Ingrid's kind of been solo parenting for a bit.

It's not that Mapi won't help but she very much can't do things like play rough with you like you enjoy or bounce you on her knee to calm you down.

Ingrid hasn't done that a lot since she started dating Mapi, who dived head-first into things like that in an attempt to win you over.

"Mamí too," You insist as you whine out a low note.

"Are you having big feelings?" Ingrid asks as she fishes out her phone to ask where Mapi is.

You nod tiredly against her, practically limp but still with enough energy to kick and snap your displeasure.

Ingrid wonders if it's a lack of stimulation. The plane ride had been long and you didn't have any of your usual things to keep you occupied.

Your story books had all been packed in the big suitcase (the last time Ingrid will ever trust Mapi to pack your bags) and your colouring book and felt tip pens had been deemed too messy for you to use on the flight. That coupled with your inability to stay asleep for more than twenty minutes, means that you're exhausted and bored.

It's a dangerous combination.

Ingrid shoots off a text to Mapi about the situation and walks the length of the hallway, quietly hushing you and allowing you to suck at her collar even though she knows that it's going to feel bad against her skin later on.

Mapi replies quickly, saying that she's in the canteen with Alexia.

"Mumma," You whine as Ingrid makes for the elevator," No go out! No want!"

"We're not going out," Ingrid assures you but the damage is already done because the exhaustion and the boredom finally catch up with you and you burst into a round of frustrated tears.

Ingrid bounces you more firmly as you babble and sob and whine all the way down. The staff sends her sympathetic looks, some of them having children themselves, and the rest of the team look equally distraught as you clearly feel when Ingrid (frazzled and stressed) bursts into the canteen.

Mapi's at the table in the corner, a packet of temporary tattoo pens by her side as she transfers a sketch from her book onto Alexia's arms.

Alexia's been talking about getting another tattoo and Mapi had drawn up designs easily.

She's animatedly talking about the one she's transferring to Alexia's arms interspersed with flicking through the book to show alternative ideas.

She stops immediately though as your cries echo through the room and Ingrid approaches.

"What happened?" She asks," What's wrong? Is she hurt? Sick? She had that tummy bug a few weeks ago. Is it back?"

"She's having some big feelings," Ingrid replies, sitting down next to Mapi," I think she just wants some company while working through them. Look, she's already calming down."

She's right.

Your gasping breaths are evening out again and the tears roll down your face mostly silently. With your Mumma and Mamí now together, you're happy to just sag against Mumma and allow Mamí's conversation with Tia Ale to wash over you.

You slowly reach out for the pink pen that's resting on the table. You pick it up. Mamí doesn't use the pink a lot, especially when she's drawing ideas on people like she's doing with your Tia.

Mumma leans with you as you angle yourself towards Mamí's arms where some of her tattoos are on show.

"Open," You tell Mumma, your voice a little scratchy from all your crying and general unease. Mumma takes the lid off for you.

You press the tip against Mamí's arm, taking a lot of care to colour in the lines of the pictures she's got there.

She stops drawing on your Tia when she first feels the press of the nib against her skin.

You give her a little teary eyed smile when she catches your eye.

"Following in your footsteps," Mumma says fondly, finally able to plait your hair into a neat braid," Little tattoo artist."

"Yeah," Mamí agrees, moving to uncap all the pens on the table," Make sure to get in as many colours as possible, alright?"

You nod.

Mamí continues to draw on Tia Ale as you continue to colour in her tattoos.

The repetitive action soothes you and you make pretty swirls in her arm pictures even after she's finished showing Tia Ale her designs.

"Finished?" She asks.

You nod. "Finished."

"Ingrid," Mamí says," Take a picture of this." She flexes her arm. "I want to brag to everyone about how much more exciting she's made my arm."

#woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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neopuppy · 1 year

Text

Walk You Home (M)

pairing. jaemin x female reader

genre. baseball AU, pwp…what plot, explicit smut, M/F, dom Jaemin, established fwb(maybe feelings)

warnings. pet play, nicknames: kitten/kitty, use of a furry tail butt plug, degradation/praise, unprotected vaginal sex, owner/pet roleplay, soft moments. minors DNI.

wc. 4k+

now playing. Walk You Home//NCT Dream

a/n. I did not abandon this series🗿

“Whad’ya wanna do later?” Jeno bumps into your side in casual greeting, distractedly tapping away at his phone screen.

Pink fluffy triangular ears blend with highlights of white, lit up bright against the dark interior of your locker. “Uh,” hiding them beneath your bag swiftly, you turn to face him, pressing your back into the hollow space as if he may see the incriminating costume piece. “Later?”

Jeno peers up at you slowly, half-focused on whatever discussion he’s attempting to catch up on in one of the various group chats he’s been forced to join. “Why do you sound confused?”

“Right,” nodding, you sneak a glance past his shoulder in search of a round set of diabolic eyes. “I can’t today.”

“What, why??” Jeno says, clearly lost before trailing your gaze across the hall. He sighs, muttering ‘dick’ under his breath. “Fine, he’s really stressed out about this next game. Huge scouts coming to watch him play.”

Jeno’s hand waves haphazardly, continuing on about how Jaemin better start acting grateful that he’s lucky enough to have a best friend who cares for him this much.

‘Does kitty want to play?’ Jaemin’s eyebrows raise, meeting your line of sight; silently repeating the scribbled note attached to the ears in your locker. One side of his face picks up, the poor effort to full on smirk brings to light how badly he needs this.

Of course kitty wants to play.

Jaemin’s walking extra slow, each step more purposeful then the last as he enters his neighborhood and spots a familiar figure sat in front of his house. A tickle of excitement grows within him with each pass of another house.

Cement ground beneath his sneakers is still wet from odd weather blooming into Spring, the puddles of leftover morning rain reflecting back how drained and exhausted his sunken eyes make him appear.

It’s been a long month, too long, long enough that he’s hardly had the time or energy to bother you; which he’s sure Jeno is more than happy about. He sighs, flicking away strands of loosened hair from his forehead upon taking in the cute way you sit with your ankles crossed together, ears perched on your head perfectly out in the open where anyone can see.

“What’s this?” He hums, gliding closer to pinch your chin between his thumb and index finger. “Did my kitten sneak out again?”

“Jaemin..” you say demurely, lowering your gaze as his other hand reaches for your cheek to keep your attention on him.

“What was that, kitty?” He asks, a rasp lingering in his tone with more intensity behind his large glossy eyes. “You know better than that.”

His lips twitch, tongue flicking out to moisten them as he watches you intently awaiting for your next move, knowing well which way this can go depending on your mood today.

A satisfied smile stretches his lips with your heavy set gaze blinking upward, a pleading expression and a light vibration emitting from your throat, cheek finding a hiding space in his palm to nuzzle into.

He lets out an exaggerated tired sigh, bending at his knees to cup your cheeks and stroke along the warmed up flesh, lips pouted together by the weight of his palms pressing in. “Such a naughty kitten, after all I do for you..”

Jaemin’s thumbs dig into the meat of your bottom lip, pressing until your mouth gives in, allowing the tips of his fingers to reach inside and apply pressure on your tongue. “Do you even know how dangerous it is for a pretty pretty little kitty like you to be out here alone?”

He shakes his head, pushing harder on the center of your tongue until drool spills out past the corners of your mouth. “I do my best to take care of you, don’t I?”

He has to hold back a chuckle when you nod, the desperation loud enough even without words, making your best effort to lap at his thumbs despite a wad of saliva collecting at the back of your throat causing you to gag.

“You don’t take me serious enough,” He scolds, pushing his digits against your cheeks until the fat squeezes between each. “I do this for your own good, kit. How long have you even been out here, huh? Showing off your shiny coat for anyone to admire?”

Releasing his grip on your face he latches onto your waist, pulling you to sit on his lap; immediately smothered by his biceps that seem to expand endlessly in mass.

“You know what I have to do now, don’t you?”

Jaemin’s smooth forehead gathers down the middle, taut skin wrinkling up as he smirks, smoothing a thick palm up your thigh to feel under your skirt; his pearly front teeth poke out with tight cheeks to hide a smile as his fingers skim higher and higher until they stroke between the crease your upper thigh creates.

“Bad bad kitty,” he tsks, pushing between your squeezed legs to cup your center. “Sitting out here for any nasty dog to come find and fuck, you want me to punish you that much?”

Jaemin knows you’ve been on edge ever since opening your locker, probably squirming your way through class picturing the different ways he’d play with you today, it’s not as if he’s ever been one to go easy on you.

“I’ve been so stressed lately, you know..” leaning forward he whispers, the tip of his nose pressing to yours as his fingers work to spread your folds open, letting out a soft pleased sigh at the first touch of wetness he finds. “When I really can’t handle it all, I think about you.”

The pads of two digits roll in a circle tracing over your entrance accompanied with a loud nearly embarrassing sound of arousal pushing out against his teasing touch, he breathes heavier over your parted lips, a minty aftertaste of mouthwash he swirled after practice tickles between each puff of air meeting yours. “Think about how you always know exactly what I need.”

Jaemin’s lips part between yours, skimming back and forth as he proceeds to murmur incoherently, adding pressure with each press of his digits against your entrance until your hole gives and allows him to slip in to the first knuckle.

“Mmmphh..” moans come out more struggled, trapped in your throat as you attempt to calm enough to keep up this act, nuzzling into his nose with parted lips for him to suck at different areas inside and out.

“My kitty likes that,” he says, gliding in further with more strength in seek of the pleasure point inside of you. “Your owner knows how to take care of you best.”

Jaemin’s lips slot against yours with a firm press, tongue slipping in past the gasp you let out when his thumb makes contact with your clit, the thick pad of his finger rubbing back and forth while the two filling you up pick up speed; each thrust reaching deeper and deeper echoing vulgar sounds of wetness from between your thighs.

“Don’t cum.” Jaemin pants out, lapping at your tongue falling from your lips to chase after more of his soft rapidly swelling lips. “You don’t get to get to cum like this.”

He grunts, pumping his hand faster, the fat of his palm smacking loudly upon contact with your core, thumb relentlessly rubbing your clit to a stiffened little point. “Bad kittens don’t get to cum this easily.”

Jaemin knows by the way your teeth bury down and the whined whimpers stuggling to escape from the back of your throat that you’re close, trembling against him from the force of his fingers working in and out of you faster and faster. “You’re gonna be a good little kitty for me, right? Do what your owner tells you to do for once.”

A small helpless nod is the best you can do to answer, clenching down on his digits to slow his rapid motions, useless as his bicep only rounds out more, the muscles fully bulged up; a smile stretching his lips lifting up the sharpened outer corners. “Bad kitty thinks she deserves to cum? After breaking my rules and sneaking out.”

“N..nu..” your lips tighten into a thin line as Jaemin’s smile only grows more menacing, itching for you to break and beg, a satisfied gleam taking over his gaze as he feels you clamp down around him repeatedly; quelling your orgasm away with tears burning down your cheeks. The pain of stifling your climax tingles through your stomach, aching it’s way up to your chest unhappily.

Jaemin’s fingers slide out messily, leaving your hole gaping open and shut expecting more to get you off properly. The two digits coated in your arousal as he lifts them between your mouths and smears the excess of it across your lips and chin.

“Come on, my good little pet” he moves to stand, gaze locked on yours, motioning his eyebrows upward as he steps back. “Now kitten..”

Jaemin’s tone falls into a low growl, half-threatening as you begin to get up, staying put with your knees bent and a confused tilt of your head. “Hmm?”

“Since when do kitties walk on two legs?” Tilting his head to the side in the same manner to mock you, his arms come up to cross over his chest, the bulk of muscles thick and corded on top of each other causing you to gulp as you return to your knees and set your palms flat.

A chill of breeze runs across the backs of your bare thighs, skirt lifted up higher in a bent position leaving the tail plugged inside of your ass exposed. Jaemin knows the neighborhood’s mostly calm and empty at this time of the day, but the idea of anyone spotting you in this position shoots straight to his cock nonetheless, biting down on his bottom lip as he ponders how shameless you can get.

“Come on kitten, it’s dinner time.”

Jaemin takes steps back, heading inside without stumbling once, even with his trained gaze focused on your hips swaying side and side and the grimace hidden behind your pursed lips with each hard press of your knees to the floor. He stops just at his bedroom door, crouching down to smooth your hair away from your face and sets a gentle peck on the bridge of your nose, petting the ears clipped to your crown softly. “Such a good kitty.”

Hands make way to your throat, encasing you snuggly as his eyes begin to roam over your chest and smushed together thighs. “I got you something, a surprise.”

He stands back up, finger curling in, motioning for you to enter his bedroom. “Something that should help when you try to run away again.”

Jaemin grins, nodding to a pink bowl neatly placed near a cage just large enough to fit yourself into. Hesitation halts your movement, glancing back and forth from the cage to his smug face, remembering the last time he’d left you locked up for hours until you cried enough to be let out. “What’s wrong, kit?”

Moving behind you he pats your butt right where the tail disappears inside of your rim, pushing a hiss from your lips as you continue to crawl forward, glancing over your shoulder when you reach the bowl.

“Dinner first, then I’ll give you your gift.”

Jaemin sits down, unbuttoning his jeans as he leans back into the gamer chair in front of his computer screens; his gaze staying trained on yours continuously glancing back and forth between him and the bowl of milk beneath you. The only way to properly pick any of the creamy liquid with your mouth requiring to get further down, jutting your round hips out further. The postion giving him a perfect view of your waist disappearing into your heart-shaped bottom, tail popped up high with your buttcheeks split open ready for the taking.

“Eat up kitten.” Jaemin beams, shifting from side to side in his chair, one of his palms finding a place to rest between his thighs. “It’s your favorite.”

Jaemin’s favorite.

Watching you struggle to stay bent with your back arched in deep, on all fours unable to use anything but your tongue to lap at the sweet cream. Most of it ends up on your chin and chest, dripping down your neck, drying up similar to his cum pouring from your chin while you take his cock in every hole.

Hooded eyes peer up between kitten licks of milk, dribbling out past the corners of your lips, Jaemin focused as he intently watches the clear white droplets pour down your throat and ripple their way between your breasts.

He hums, satisfied, palming his crotch roughly over his jeans while you continue to slurp. “Tastes good kitten?” Jaemin asks, voice gone husky with the need to fuck you.

The sound of his palm slapping against his jean-clad thigh halts your action, gazing up dumbfounded to Jaemin leaning back, legs spread open beckoning you to come to him. Without cleaning your mouth off, you begin a short crawl to nestle against his inner thigh on your knees with your chin perched on his knee, the sound of his tongue clicking on repeat accompanying your walk over.

“So pretty when you listen..” Jaemin cooes, swiping his thumbs beneath your damp eyes. “My good little pet.” Your thighs pinch together the more he drawls on, stroking up your triangular ears, manipulating the fur in different directions while your cheek nuzzles against the inside of his thigh akin to a kitten scenting their owner.

“Remember what I’ve taught you?”

Without allowing you more time to even think, his hips slide forward, forcing your nose to crush against the seam lining the middle of his crotch; heavy balls smothering hot along your face permeating a mixture of musky arousal. The hidden smell of raw sex emitting from the confines on his covered groin is enough to have you gasping for air, dizzied by the heady thick aroma filling your senses.

Jaemin’s reaches past your waist, large palms closed over your torso sliding down hotly, tugging your skirt completely up to unveil your ass. “Fuck.” He growls, hips pushing forward roughly, digging your face to smash higher against the damp cloth of his briefs, thick cock throbbing heavily against the middle of your face. He bends closer, the first thwack of weighty palm colliding with your ass jolts you leaving a stinging sharp pain the harder he lands, gnawing at the insides of your cheek to contain a pitiful cry.

“So slutty,” Jaemin says, throatily groaning between gritted teeth. Two of his fingers trace the plug pinching in and out against your rim, still wet from the lube you used to stretch yourself open. Tail swaying cutely behind you the more he slaps his free hand on your hip, gripping at the meaty flesh on your bottom with a tight squeeze. “Dirty kitty, fucking your hole open just to let me play with you.”

Jaemin rarely breaks character until his arousal consumes him, evident in the way his hips haven’t stopped rocking against your face, congesting your air flow with the underside of his clothed cock rutting over your gasping mouth. Another succession of smacks has you drooling, incoherent sounds of pained moans and mewls lost between the heap of heavy cock and and cotton suffocating you; distracting enough to miss one of his digits sneaking in beside the plug.

“So tight, so warm..” Jaemin licks over his spit slick lips, finger nudging alongside the cool metal shape filling your hole. An exerted groan wishing to exit your lips the more he adds to the stretch, burning around your rim as he tugs to watch your hole pinch around him. “It’s my fault you ran off kitten, I’ve been too busy as of late, right?”

Jaemin knows you won’t answer much other than a pathetic mewl you try to force down, mouthing at his crotch like the thirsty pet you are, leaving copious patches of drool behind, enough to darken the material and perfectly outline the shape of his fat hard cock.

“I need to make it up to you..” his finger releases, lifting to his mouth to smear the leaked out lube across his plump lips, the gleam too vulgar to possibly be legal as he sucks in a breath with his mouth popped open. “Is that what you need?”

Jaemin’s big round eyes shine from where they peer down at you, damp fingers trace across your face smoothly gliding over the definition of your cheekbones. His touch feels gentle, petting you with light strokes and tapping the tip of your nose. The answer a lazy nod with your mouth latched to his clothed size.

“I know what will make you happy.” He grins devilishly, appeased by how happy he will feel as well. The slide of his drawer catches your attention as he reaches to pull out a rectangular velvet box, snapping his fingers for you to sit up on your knees properly.

“That pretty neck..” he reaches, locking his heavy palm around the expanse of your throat again. The grip tighter this time, using his thumb to push under your jaw and keep your lost gaze on him. “Could use some decoration.”

Jaemin snaps open the case displaying a pink vinyl collar, the center decal in the shape of a heart with a kitten paw adorning the plaque and a little silver bell attached to the tip. His smile grows along with the size of your eyes as he discards the box to fit the collar around your neck. “Tight?” He whispers, moving to the very first hole when you gasp and nod, the material digging into your throat just enough to add to the lightness that’s begun to take over your mind.

“So pretty,” he bites down on his lip, pinching your chin to turn your face side to side, admiring the veins pulsing up the sides of your neck beneath the collars constraint. “Now I’ll always be able to find you kitten.”

Jaemin flicks the bell, chiming obnoxiously against the dip between your collarbone. The sound of it rings like a bell instinctively straightening out your spine to stand alert.

“One more thing..”

Pushing his chair away, he stands, hand dipping into the back pocket of his jeans to pull out a thin leash, dangling it in the air slowly as he takes in your eyes nearly going cross eyed. “Not typical, but a bad bad kitty like you can’t be trusted..”

He clasps the leash and collar together, wrapping the leash up tight around his fist, hand coming down to pet your head in a tender manner. “The cage wasn’t enough..”

Jaemin’s fist rips back, lunging your body forward back onto all fours, his free hand coming down to smack your ass again. “Up.”

The leash tugs harder, leading you to the edge of his bed until you manage to lay your upper half stomach flat between coughs and choked breath, his hand landing like a snapping whip against any bare skin. “Do you even realize how wet you are right now?” He sneers, hot palm lodging between your thighs to cup your core, shooting your spine into an arch.

“Such a fucking slut, getting off from being treated like this.” Jaemin’s hand glides down to your knees, wet slick that won’t stop bubbling from your hole reaching its way down to the tops of your thigh-highs. “What did I do to deserve such a naughty kitten?” The sudden pull at your neck jolts your head back, panting short breaths of air in a panic the less oxygen reaches your brain.

“I’ll teach you once and for all to listen.” Jaemin pulls at your tail, the thickest part of the plug stretching you apart as he lays it upward on your back and tugs his cock free to swipe between the mess covering your inner thighs. “You’ll be a good kitty for Nana from now on.”

The tip of his length nudges against your folds side to side teasingly, causing your thighs to shake in anticipation, hours passing since excitement for this moment brings you to the edge faster; biting down on your tongue to not shout out ‘fuck me please!’.

“There it is..” he groans, cockhead dipping in and out of your pulsating entrance. “Exactly what I needed.”

With held breath Jaemin pushes in finally, the size of him thick in all the right places, girthy and hard pushing your walls open forcefully with a rough rock of his hips. The belt hanging from his jeans clapping againsts the back of your thighs as he crashes down on you, expelling a low growl from his chest. Quickly tugging off his shirt he leans in, crushing his chest and weight against your upper back, hips grinding down to make you feel every inch. “So tight for me kitty, so fucking wet and tight.”

Jaemin’s energy matches yours, immediately jerking back into a quick thrust forward, the restriction on your neck never letting up even as his pace builds and slams into you harder. The sound of his ragged breath circling your head along with the chime of your bell collar shaking with each collision of his hips against your ass. He’s always rough, more desperate than usual as he grips your hair at the scalp and shoves the side of your face against his bed.

“My kitten, so pretty, fuck.” He spews through gritted teeth, nose shoved into your cheek, breaking a sweat the more he forces his length deep inside of you. “Feel good, yeah?”

“Jaem—ughhh” his tongue drags across your face, nastily licking up the sweat and tears that have slidden down. Digging his cock inside of you with another deep thrust until you scream, feet kicking against the floor.

“Doing so good for me kitty.” Jaemin’s hands splay down on your shoulders, pushing you deep into the bed to pull himself out, the loss of his length throwing you into a fit. “Shh, shhh, I said be good.” He rasps, pulling on your shoulders to manhandle you higher onto the bed, knees digging into the backs of your thighs.

“Jaemin.. please please..” your voice cracks from lack of use, squeezing your eyes shut as his nails dig into your back and claw down, ripping the tail stuffing your ass suddenly.

“Fuck.” Jaemin spits, licking up the sweat on his upper lip as three fingers shove into your open rim, cock pushing back inside of you all at once. “Nasty filthy slut, so fucking tight kitten, wish you could see how good you take it.”

His pace accelerates, slamming in faster than before, hand jerking where he continues to stretch your ass open, his other finding your hair once again to hold onto. “That’s right, take it like the fucking slut you are.”

Jaemin thrusts turn merciless, messy and offbeat reaching closer as he continues to babble nonsense. “My little f-fuck toy, dirty.. dirty kitty, letting me—use you.”

“Jaemin! Ah, Jaemin!!” Thick muscles circle your neck, using the leverage to thrust in past your orgasm locking your pussy tight around him, growling brokenly while you whimper and beg for him to cum.

“Please, cum, w-want please—please!”

Jaemin cries out a growl, pulling out of you to press into your ass, cock throbbing with release pouring inside of your neglected whole. Panting curses as his thighs tremble, cock twitching, pushing out the last few spurts of cum into your ass.

His eyebrows stay twisted, teeth grinding together hard enough for the sound to carry and vibrate near your ear, his wet spent cock slapping down on your lower back. “Stay still… good little kitten..” he mumbles, voice coming out more dry and raspy, lazily gripping one of your buttcheeks to hold you open.

“My sweet kitty listened well today,” he sighs, pushing the tip of your plug to scoop up any cum that’s begun to drip out. “Earned a treat.”

Jaemin shushes the groan you let out as he stuffs the plug back inside of you, extra lubricated by his release only partially dripping out past the toy. Clicking his tongue he strokes your tail, smoothing the ruffled hairs down until it sits pretty above the backs of your thighs.

“Stay.” He whispers, nearly too quiet to decipher with lips pressed along your nape.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t want you to leave yet.” Jaemin litter’s featherlite kisses against your shoulder blade. “Stay for the night.”

“I can’t..”

“Please?” He sounds mildly desperate, built arms circle your waist from behind with a soft squeeze, suggesting an offer of unusual cuddling. “..Walk you home in the morning.”

“Promise?” You smile to yourself, eyes lazy as the warmth pressed to your body begins to feel too good, adjusting against his bed to lay comfortably. Jaemin hums, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with breathy groans buzzing against your jaw.

“Of course kitten, anything for you.”

#jaemin smut #na jaemin smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct au #neopuppy fics #na jaemin fanfic #nct jaemin #onek

2K notes · View notes

luimagines · 1 month

Text

Falling for You

It wasn't exactly out of my comfort zone. I just meant I don't know if it's out of the comfort for most of my readers ^.^*

I had... arguably way too much fun writing that for Time. But you want Warrior? I will do my best... Mostly because I’m not entirely sure how to recreate that energy ^.^*

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Warrior was running.

He had received a report that you were injured and being currently tended to by the Traveler.

He was sprinting to find you and get to you. His heart was stuck in his throat, pounding to release itself for all that it was worth. Warrior would feel his lungs working overtime to make up for the strain that he was putting on them.

Warrior had to make it to the camp and get their quickly. He wasn’t entirely sure why he felt as panicked as he did. He struggled to gulp down the needed air to keep going. Surely, the others would have taken care of you, right?

He trips on a root and lands harshly on his chest, sliding a little on the dirt ground. The air is knocked out of his slightly but he refuses to slow down. Pushing himself back onto his feet, Warrior keeps running through the growth of the woods to make it to where he had last seen you.

Eventually, he makes it where the others are. They seem startled when he makes his appearance, taking in his no doubt dirtied and ruffled appearance.

You stand when he enters, looking over him just as much as he’s looking over you. “Warrior-”

“Where is it?” He coughs, steely eyed and dangerous. Warrior makes a direct path towards you. “What happened? Show me.”

You seems to shrink back somewhat. “Nothing major. I felt and cut my hand on a rock.”

You show him your hands. Warrior should have had more faith in the others but he can’t help himself. Your hands are indeed wrapped up securely in bandages. He can see a little bit of pink peaking behind the lower layers. The cut must have been bad.

He takes your hands in his. “How did you manage this?”

“Well you know me.” You say quietly, still on edge with how Warrior had charged at you like a raging bull. “Accident prone klutz.”

“Stop it.” He scolds gently. Warrior rubs his thumbs over your knuckles, mentally taking in the quality of the bandages and the way they’re wrapped around you. The cut must be on your palms. It must be pretty for the amount of layers they had to put it. It would have been a heavy hit.

You probably fell forward and tried to catch yourself on your hands. The rock must have had a rough edge that cut into your hands when your weight landed on them. He sighs. Stiches may or may not be a possibility, but he can’t tell. Warrior shakes his head. “You’re not a klutz. You just have bad luck.”

Warrior doesn’t want to put your hands down. Idiot, he thinks lovingly. How is it that you’re the only one this seems to happen to? You’re going to have to take it easy for a while. You won’t be able to use your hands until they’ve healed. You’re going to need help. He’s going to have to step more.

“What happened to you?” You whisper, having succumbed to his quiet contemplation.

“Fell.” He answers simply. Then he chuckles. Warrior hadn’t meant to echo your same excuse. Maybe he should calm down a little more. He relaxes his shoulders and his stance. “I heard you got hurt and came running. I tripped and virtually fell flat on my face. I’m fine though.”

“You’re covered in mud.” You point out, taking a hand out of his hold and using the back of it to clean his face from the dirt he’s marred on his cheek.

He catches your hand gently, stopping you. “Don’t. These need to stay clean.”

“Too late.” You say, moving your hand to clean up his face anyway. “You’ve already touched them with your muddy hands.”

He looks at his hands in an instant. You’re right. He looks down finally at the front of his chest as well. Warrior is in shock. He must have slid through a puddle when he initially tripped. He is covered in mud from the front of his chest all the way down to his shins. “....oh... That would explain the looks.”

You snort at his words before a beat passes, then dissolve into giggles. You deflate slightly and gently bump your head against his collar bone, just missing his shoulder plate and the mud that’s now stained his tunic.

“That’s... not going to come out easy.” He sighs, looking at the mess he’s in. At least they’re due for laundry soon anyway. Maybe he should get that started.

You try, and fail, to bite back your amused grin. “Do you need help?”

“Don’t even think about it.” Warrior pokes your forehead. “Clean those hands as clean as you can and away from water for the time being. If those bandages get wet, it not going to be good for you.”

You stick your tongue out at him playfully and Warrior feels himself relax a little more. “Promise me?”

You don’t look as amused as he feels. “...I promise.”

Warrior takes your hand one more time and kisses your knuckles. “Please try to stay out of trouble in the mean time.”

“No promises.”

#linked universe x reader #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu x reader #lu warrior #so annoyed by that mistake #guess who posted without actually saving to draft first >:(#me that's who #god- i have no idea if i did it or not #this is probably also *a lot* shorter #not intended #Apologies #I hope this is ok though #yes the title is a pun

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callsignseagull · 10 months

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all you had to do was stay ✪ part 7

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x fem!reader

Summary: Six years ago Jake hit your life like a hurricane. In and out in a matter of weeks. You thought after you get over the disappointment of him leaving without saying a word you’d never think of him again. But then two pink lines change your life forever. Now he’s back and still has no idea that the little girl by your side is his daughter.

Words: 2k

Warnings: fluff, angst, me not knowing how the navy works lmao

A/N: Here’s part seven!! enjoy

feedback is always appreciated <3

series masterlist || masterlist

I love you, daddy.

The words have been repeating in Jake’s head ever since Josie uttered them. They’re what’s been keeping him going while mission training gets more intense. He spends every free moment with you and Josie, and he feels like you’re becoming a real family. He doesn’t think he’s ever been happier in his life. Not his first time flying a fighter jet, not when he graduated from the academy, not when he got to Top Gun the first time. This, being with you and Josie, makes him happy, gives him purpose. He didn’t know if he’d ever have kids. He’s thought about it when his first niece was born, but he didn’t have a partner, didn’t even date, so it seemed out of reach. And he thought maybe it was for the best. Little did he know he was already a father. When his eldest niece was born Josie was already a year old. And he had no idea.

So now he wants to make up for lost time. And it’s starting to take its toll. He doesn’t get much sleep, but that’s the price he’s willing to pay to spend time with his daughter. And with you.

He’s still focused at work, but it takes a lot more energy than usual.

Coming back to Top Gun and finding out about Josie has changed Jake’s life in a way he never expected it to. And it didn’t only change his plans for the future but his priorities, too. Josie’s nightmare and almost kissing you the other night was an eye opener for him. He wants to spend as much time as possible with the two of you. Wants to be a real family. And now he feels like maybe he’s got a chance. That maybe you finally trust him again and that there are still at least some feelings for him left. He’ll do everything to make you his. He’ll wait forever if he needs to.

He knows that his job will put a strain on things, that he won’t always be there when you need him. And he hates that. If it were up to him he’d never leave you and Josie out of his sight. Okay, that sounds a little creepy, but he doesn’t mean it in an overbearing way. He just doesn’t want to be without you.

He’s certain it won’t be easy for him to get the future he wants, to get the best of both worlds, but he’ll do everything in his power to make it happen. He’s already got the ball rolling on some changes. But he doesn’t know if it’ll work out.

He’s got a long day of training ahead of him, the mission drawing closer quicker than he would like to, especially because he didn’t know where he was headed when he came back. If he came back.

He shakes his head, that’s no way to think about it. This is the most dangerous mission he’ll ever fly and there’s so much at stake. And he needs to get back to you and Josie. He needs to see Josie grow up.

“Let’s go, Hangman.” Coyote’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he finally manages to get into his work mindset. He can’t afford to be distracted at work.

✩̿✪̿✩̿

When Jake checks his phone after a day of training the most difficult maneuver he’s ever had to do, he’s got about thirty missed calls from you. His heart drops. Something must’ve happened. You rarely call him. Let alone thirty times.

He calls you back immediately but he only reaches your voice mail. He tries again and again and again.

Nothing.

He’s beyond worried, his thoughts are filled with worst case scenarios as he messily grabs his stuff, doesn’t even change into his regular clothes and bolts out the door. The rest of his squad are eyeing him with confused expressions but he doesn’t even notice them. All he can think about is that he needs to get to you.

Since you’re still not picking up your phone he decides his best bet is driving to your house. See if you’re home.

You’re not.

Your car isn’t in the drive way and when he rings the doorbell no-one opens. All the lights are off and his only option is to wait. He keeps calling but you don’t pick up. He doesn’t know if you’re missing his calls because you don’t notice him calling or if you’re purposely not picking up the phone.

He’s a mess.

It’s almost two hours later when your car finally pulls into your driveway.

✩̿✪̿✩̿

Turns out that Josie broke her arm when she fell from the monkey bars. She doesn’t have to get surgery but they put a cast on her arm that needs to stay on for six weeks. Luckily, Josie is at that age where having a cast is cool and she wants all her friends to sign it. The whole thing might’ve been more traumatising for you than for her. Especially because of your anger towards Jake. He’s tried calling, but you were too stubborn to pick up. You wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine, show him what it’s like. Is it the most healthy thing to do? Definitely not. But you were a mess.

When you turn onto your street you can see Jake sitting on your porch steps. He’s still in his flight suit and his hair looks like he’s run his hand through it at least a million times. He must’ve sat there for a while. It makes you feel bad for a second but then you remember what you’ve gone through the past couple hours and you’re angry again.

“I called you about a hundred times!” Jake says as you step out of the car. He’s walking towards you now, his eyes scanning over your body as if he’s looking for injuries.

“Well, so did I.” You open Josie’s door and help her out of the car. When she sees Jake her eyes light up.

“Daddy, look! I’ve got a cast! They made it my favourite colour!” She shows off the green cast that’s covering her forearm. “Will you sign it?”

“Of course, I’ll sign it.” He forces a smile. “What happened?”

“I fell from the monkey bars on the playground. It hurt a lot but it’s all better now!”

“C’mon, honey let’s go inside.” You gently push against her back. Jake follows you but halts his steps before walking through the door. He looks uncertain.

“Will you stand out there all evening?” Your voice sounds irritated even to your own ears. And you are. There’s so much you wanna say to him right now but you can’t while Josie is around. Jake finally enters your house and closes the front door.

You spend so much time at the hospital that it’s already past Josie’s bedtime, so that’s what you focus on first. You go through the motions, aware that Jake is always close by, watching as you help Josie brush her teeth and read her a bedtime story.

“Now it’s time for you to sleep, honey.” You put the book on her nightstand and watch as her eyelids get heavier by the second. Seems like the adrenaline is finally wearing off.

“Will you sign my cast now, daddy?” She yawns and even though you’re not looking at him you know there’s a small smile on his face.

“Of course.” Then you hear Jake moving through the room to get a pen from her desk. Josie reaches out her arm and when Jake crouches down next to you. He’s entirely too close, so you get up and take three steps back.

Once he’s done he caps the pen, gives Josie a kiss on the forehead and tells her good night one more time. Then the two of you leave the room.

You can feel the tension rising as you make your way to the living room. You’re too wired up to sit down so you just stand there in the middle of the room, looking at him.

“I was worried sick!” Jake presses out. “You call me thirty times and then don’t pick up? Are you serious?”

“Well, you weren’t picking up your phone either.” You cross your arms in front of your chest.

“I was at work and I didn’t have my phone with me.”

You shrug your shoulders. For some reason you wanna be mad at him. You want to channel all your frustrations and nerves and let it out on him. Maybe because you’re mad at yourself for wishing he’d been there with you. Or maybe because he’s the only person here right now. You’re full of emotions that you don’t know how to deal with.

“And I was at the hospital with your daughter while she was in pain!” You feel tears brimming your eyes. “And you weren’t there! You weren’t there and I wanted you there and I hate it! I hate it, Jake! You came waltzing into our lives out of nowhere and now I need you to be there? It’s unfair! We were fine before you came along.”

You can see the hurt in his eyes and it makes you want to shove the words back into your mouth. But that’s not how it works.

“You don’t need me, sweetheart. I know that. You’re the strongest person I know. Raising our girl on your own … And as much as I wanna be there for you every second of every day, I can’t.”

He’s speaking with so much honesty, it makes you deflate. He cares so much about Josie, he didn’t answer his phone because he couldn’t not because he didn’t want to.

“You should’ve heard her scream, Jake. It was horrible.” The tears you’ve been holding in finally roll down your cheeks and within seconds Jake is there, wrapping his arms around you, soothingly rubbing your back.

“I’m sorry I lashed out at you I know you didn’t have a choice. But I was just—“

“It’s okay. C’mere.” He holds you closer and you let yourself relax against his strong body. It’s been so long since you just let go. So that’s what you do, not caring what he thinks while you’re sobbing, no doubt leaving wet stains on his flight suit.

“Why can’t you have a regular office job?” You murmur against his chest and Jake chuckles softly.

“But then we would’ve never met.”

“True.” You let out a sigh. “Still sucks though.”

It’s quiet for a couple moments while Jake softly sways you from side to side. You’ve never felt so safe. Then he clears his throat.

“I’m leaving for the mission soon.” That makes you look at him. “I can’t tell you anything about it, but … it’s dangerous.”

You stiffen, “How dangerous?”

Jake presses his lips together, looking at the ceiling before his eyes find yours again. “The most dangerous I’ve ever been a part of.”

“Jake …”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You know I’m the best.” The shakiness in his voice betrays his words but you choose to ignore it.

“How much longer until you leave?”

“I can’t really say. But I’ll come over to say goodbye before I leave… I wouldn’t leave without seeing you guys one more time.” There was so much meaning in him saying one more time, but you choose to ignore that as well. “And then when I’m back … I applied for an instructor position at Top Gun. It’s not an office job but I won’t be deployed as much and I’d be close to you guys.”

“What?” This is the first time you’re hearing about him even thinking about choosing a different career path.

“If everything goes to plan I’ll be moving to San Diego soon.” The corners of his mouth tick up.

“But… but you love flying.”

“I love Josie more. And I’ll still be flying, just not for the same reasons. And I’m not going to lie and tell you this is a completely safe position. It’s still dangerous and things happen. But I don’t wanna miss any more than I’ve already missed when it comes to Josie’s life. I wanna be there for all the important milestones.”

Now you’re crying again but for a whole different reason.

“Jake.”

“When you told me about her my priorities just shifted. For a really long time flying was the only thing I had. The only thing that gave me purpose. But now that I know about Josie … she’s biggest and most important purpose of all.”

You really don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything and just hold him closer and rest your head against his shoulder.

___

only a few parts left!!

taglist: @annathesillyfriend ✪ @lovebittenbyevans ✪ @heyhihellowhatsup0 ✪ @one-sweet-gubler ✪ @wooya1224 ✪ @iammirrorball ✪ @lolcaca ✪ @caitsymichelle13 ✪ @soulmates8 ✪ @soleilgrec ✪ @lilylilyyyyyy ✪ @winters-queen ✪ @i0veless ✪ @the-romanian-is-bae ✪ @mandyppp ✪ @dempy ✪ @mizuki80 ✪ @averyhotchner ✪ @babyice1274 ✪ @captain-fandomwriter58 ✪ @hangmanscoming ✪ @caidi-paris ✪ @linkpk88 ✪ @djs8891 ✪ @lnmp89 ✪ @startrekfangirl2233 ✪ @gigisimsonmars ✪ @clancycucumber230 ✪ @emilyoflanternhill ✪ @roostersforevergirl ✪ @celestialeviereads ✪ @blackwidownat2814 ✪ @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak ✪ @grxcisxhy-wp ✪ @atarmychick007 ✪ @dakotakazansky ✪ @alana4610 ✪ @memoriesat30 ✪ @entertainmentgal8 ✪ @shanimallina87 ✪ @smoothdogsgirl ✪ @i3k2ts ✪ @frenchtoastix ✪ @twsssmlmaa ✪ @elijahmikaelsonbitch ✪ @simpxmarvel ✪ @harrysgothicbitch ✪ @midwestmarvelbabe ✪ @lunamoonbby

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman series #hangman x reader #hangman fic #hangman top gun #top gun maverick fic

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biomechanical-quinn · 3 months

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// @exile-of-dathomir

Quinn hadn't cared to venture outside their house much, let alone leave their damn planet, but as one could imagine, the Cabin Fever got to them eventually. So, when Quinn's roommate Sanji offered to take them along as she does an off-world commission, they agreed.

Sanji, being a little too cautious about the situation, gave them a blaster, and a comlink, along with credits to protect themselves in the lower levels of Coruscant. The blaster was a little silly, as if their dangerous mutations weren't already enough...

The place had been rather unnerving to navigate. New patterns, new places, new people, were always at least a little upsetting, despite the curiosity. Thankfully, though, Quinn had finally found a decent spot to take a break. A Cafe. From the windows, it looked warm and inviting.

A little hesitantly, they enter, wearing long, large-heeled black boots reaching their knees, black shorts, and a dark blue, oversized men's shirt with the sleeves rolled up and top buttons undone. Long, black gloves cover their arms to their elbows. An outfit designed a little more for practicality, but with the personal touch of three, layered necklaces, each holding their own type of stone. One holds one that is pointed, polished, and purple. The second is raw and red, wrapped in gold wire. The third is a polished, pink, female body also wrapped in gold wire as if being held in Shibari.

Their tail drags behind them to a degree, despite being curled into a spiral to be smaller, and the wing boning on their back, whilst flat as it can be, are still clearly visible as they poke through hand-stitched holes in the back of their shirt.

Quinn hopes they aren't the strangest customer the Cafe has had. Lots of unnecessary attention is something they don't have much energy for.

#oc roleplay #feral opress #star wars roleplay #star wars #biomechanical quinn #// LMAO sorry for all the detail I just wanted to get the extra detail stuff out of the way. Hope this is okay <3

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kou3218 · 1 year

Text

Commissioned by me, art by the always fantastic: @plastic-pipes

Story below

Lux was back in Democia after having spent several months in Piltover. She had been acting on behalf of the Illuminators as a diplomat. Trying to build bridges with Dempcia and the city of progress. Despite her country’s disdain for magic and all the things associated with it. They needed Piltover on their side should Noxus attempt further expansion. But, unbeknownst to her own country, Luxanna Crownguard was the very thing they despised most of all, a Mage. Ever since she was a teenager, she had done what she could to keep her magic hidden. Only her family had known the truth about her, and it was only her brother Garren who really accepted her.

Working for the illuminators at least made it easier for her to keep her magic a secret. Regularly spending time outside of Demacia’s borders on her own. The time she spent in Piltover had been wonderful. Seeing all the brilliant minds and creations that Hex Tech could accomplish. She even managed to find several texts on the possible applications of light magic, and to make a friend.

“Well, maybe more than a friend.” Lux thought to herself with a smile.

Lux had managed to sneak into one of Piltover’s archives at night to see what matter of new magical discovery the inventors had found. Even though she was trying to negotiate peace, she still couldn’t risk someone seeing her looking through texts on magic. If her aunt or the mage seeker caught even a rumor of her wanting to know more about magic, it could be the end for her.

Unbeknownst to Lux, Jinx had been preparing to blow up the very building the light mage was skulking about in. Thankfully for her, Jinx saw Lux and was curious to see what she was up to. Jinx spooked Lux in a dramatic fashion which revealed she was a mage. By attempting to blast the blue hair girl with a ray of light energy. She had missed and ended up knocking over a bookshelf, which caused a domino effect to knock over half of the archive.

Luxanna was horrified by what she had done, while Jinx was cackling like a mad woman before bombarded the mage with questions, “That was awesome! How’d ya do that! No device but that fancy stick of your’s. Can you do Magic? Are you a mage!? WHAT ELSE CAN YA DO!!??”

Lux could hardly keep up with the manic girl’s questions. The sheer wonder in her pink eyes was something Lux had never thought she’d see from someone. Before Lux could start to answer, the sound of the enforces cut their meeting short. The two of them fled the scene and managed to preserve Lux’s identity from Piltover’s Finest. Once they were safe, Jinx convinced Lux to stay with her for the night. Since it would have been too dangerous to try and sneak back to her hotel.

Lux eventually made her way back to her hotel, thinking over the time she spent with the blue-haired girl. She was eccentric, brilliant, inquisitive, and very physically affectionate. Lux wasn’t used to anyone being in her personal space so much as Jinx had, but there was something surprisingly comforting about it. As Lux continued to look over the “barrowed” texts, Jinx had managed to sneak into Lux’s hotel room. Once again surprising the young mage, but she was happy to see the gunpowder girl. The two of them spent more and more time together and found a surprising amount of similarity and solace with each other.

Eventually, Lux had to return to Demacia and hated having to leave Jinx, knowing the brilliant blue haired girl had severe issues with abandonment and separation. It took some serious convincing, but Lux promised Jinx she would see her again.

It had been three weeks since she had made that promise, and Lux couldn’t help but worry about her. Spending most of her time organizing the library to occupy her mind and avoid her aunt as much as she could. She missed Jinx terribly, wanting nothing more than to leave her gilded cage and stomp around in the sump with Jinx. Showing her all the best places to eat, drink, dance, and blow up.

Almost wishing for her gunpower girl to come sailing in on a rocket to cause a little mayhem and sweep her off her feet. Lux shook her head at the thought and went back to shelving books only to see the very girl on her mind pop right in front of her hanging upside down. Spooking Lux like their first meeting, but this time not attempting to blast her through a wall.

“JINX!?” Lux screamed in surprise.

“THAT’S MEEEEE!” Jinx said with the biggest inverted grin

“Wh-what are you doing here. HOW, did you even get here.” Lux asked with her heart pounding in her ears as she looked around. Hoping no one would come running because of her screaming.

“Got bored waitin’ and wasn’t too hard to sneak in. No one ever looks up.” Jinx said nonchalantly.

While Lux was happy to see Jinx again, she was worried that someone did see her. At best, Jinx would be tossed out or worse they would try and execute her. Jinx teased Lux a bit for worrying about her and that she better find a way to keep her occupied before she does something crazy. Lux decided to turn the tables on Jinx and kissed her while she was still hanging upside down.

This ended up backfiring almost immediately lux. Not realizing how much she missed the manic girl until her lips met with hers. It started off soft and sweet, but quickly turned to hunger. She couldn’t get enough of the loose cannon lips as the familiar smell of gunpower, smoke, oil, and the sump filled Lux’s lungs as she breathed her lover in.

“I-mmf-I missed you -mmph- so much!” Lux said in-between kisses.

“Mmph- missed ya too, mmf, flashlight!” Jinx said as she kissed her back with the same intensity as her hands still firmly gripped the shelves.

Partly to help support herself, but she also liked it when Lux took charge like this. Seeing the prim and proper mask that Mage wore shatter for her always gave Jinx a certain thrill. Despite how dangerous and unpredictable Jinx could be, Lux still accepted all of her as she was. The manic woman never thought anyone would miss her the way Lux did.

#lightcannon #luxanna crownguard #lux #jinx #arcane jinx #arcane #wlw #upsidedown kiss #lux x jinx #jinx x lux #kou32 commission #arcane league of legends #league of legends #league of lesbians

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thecuriousquest · 5 months

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Thirsty Imagine - Shoto Todoroki

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, non con vaginal fingering, non con vaginal sex, non con anal fingering, non con oral sex, implied kidnapping, brat taming, light spanking, nudity, dominant behavior, controlling behavior, daddy kink

Master List

Request Rules

—————————————————————————

Here you stand in front of Shoto, pointing an accusatory finger in his face.

“You fucking dipshit! I’m not listening to a thing you say, you kidnapping asshole.”

His arms are crossed, his dual colored eyes cold as his frost, his expression neutral even though a feral and wicked grin is hidden by the mask he presents to you.

No, you have no idea how much he loves this. The push, the thrill of the challenge to tame you.

It’s the reason why he hasn’t raised a hand to you yet, hasn’t really put you in your place other than the occasional warnings to comply or else…

Or else what? You have no idea. He always leaves his words chilling yet burning with curiosity.

Why would he tame you so quickly when he could have fun in drawing out the process? He could let you have your fun exerting your energy with a hot anger feisty enough to match his higher temperatures and then he could watch you fall to your knees once you find out that you really shouldn’t fuck around with Shoto Todoroki.

He’s had his fun watching you be a brat, watching you bitch and whine here and there. Enough is enough now. You tried to escape, and he just can’t let that slide.

“Snowflake, are you just tired?” He smirks at you, toying with you.

You put all your weight on one foot, jutting your hip out with a hand on the same side. “I’m tired of you. I wanna go home!”

Taking a step closer to you, he places both hands on your arms, right on the long sleeves of your shirt.

“No, I think you’re tired. In fact, I think my little snowball needs to go down for a nap.”

Those mismatched orbs of his stare into you, crushing you with the weight of the different colors.

“Shoto, get the hell off of me.” Your voice is different now. It doesn’t hold the same bite that it did before. You start to feel like you’ve been enveloped by his flames, trapped in a dangerous situation.

No, your voice is a tone akin to a quiet mutter, still comprehensible but only because he’s so close to you.

“I think we should get you ready for bed.”

He burns your shirt off of you. It happens so quickly that you barely feel the heat of the fabric burning until it falls to ash. Your shorts are taken from you next, leaving you in a bra and panties.

Shoto thumbs the lacy waistband with a tiny bow on the front. He smirks. “Cute, just like my little icicle.” Instead of burning them off, he simply tears them away from your hips.

A scrambled groan and scream mix in your throat as his fingers deftly move to your back to unhook your bra. You’re left completely nude, trying to cover yourself with your hands.

“Shoto, no!”

He grabs your cunt, wriggling two fingers knuckle deep into your perfect little pussy, so wet, slurping up his digits like the good little slut you are. Wet and made for his hands, his mouth, his cock. Only him.

Your perky tits, bare to the air for him, for his fingers to caress and twist the pink little nubs.

Shoto picks you up, letting your legs hang around his waist. Your clit rubs against the rough fabric of his jeans with every stride. He takes you over to the couch, laying you down on your back and leaning over you.

“Yeah, you’re just being fussy. Don’t worry, Daddy knows how to deal with fussy girls.”

“Sho-to! Oh, fuck, Shoto!” Your hips bump up into his hand as he palms your clit with vigor, filling your cavern full of his rough and scarred fingers once again.

“I just need to tire you out. That’s why you’re being a brat, huh? Too much energy building up in that tight little pussy. Daddy can fix that.”

He mouths your cunt, gorging on your juices. His tongue flicks in and out in all the right ways, clinging to your walls. A savory dinner and sweet dessert all in one.

You wrap your hands around your mouth, not wanting him to know how much pleasure he’s making you feel. You don’t want to give this fuck head the satisfaction.

You heard about something like this happening though, but you never actually experienced it for yourself. While that tight feeling of pressure builds up and up, making you feel weightless and heavy at the same time, you gush and squirt into Shoto’s open mouth.

And you couldn’t be more humiliated. You sob into your hands as you watch him lick his lips, making a show of swallowing your orgasm.

“Daddy’s turn now.”

He crawls over you, and you turn on your side, trying to get out from underneath the pro hero. You claw your way off of the couch, wailing when you feel a hand on your ankle dragging you back up.

“No, no, Shoto! I don’t wanna!”

“It’s only fair, snowflake. I made you come, now Daddy gets a turn.”

You shake your head as he situates himself on top of you again, spreading your legs with a knee prying them apart. He works his pants down with one hand. It takes a few moments, but he likes the build up of the anticipation.

His cock is hot pressed against you, lined up to thrust into you like a sword. He drives into you, the plane of his ass dipping lower with each bottoming out of his hips.

“Yeah, just a fussy little girl who needs to get fucked out, make you all cute and lazy. Is that what you need, snowball?”

You writhe beneath his warm body, sweat beads replacing the goose bumps from earlier. Your thighs quiver, jiggling from his rough movements. He’s not a slow and gentle lover.

No, he’s dominant through and through, making you learn your place, forcing you to know where you stand in his presence or rather kneel.

Every ministration is so intrinsic, the burning passion he has for you displayed in every touch, every grip, every plow.

“Shoto, please, wait-”

Shoto grabs you by your face, squishing your cheeks and lips into a pout, those lips wet with tears for him.

“You better fix that before I turn this into a punishment.”

You bite your lip, not sure if you should say it. You know what he wants, have heard him give you so many warnings about it before.

However, how can this get any worse?

“F-fuck you…” The bite is intently torn away from you now. There’s no heavy temper in what you have to say.

Shoto smirks knowing this.

He turns you over on your stomach, pushing your knees up until you’re hunched over on the back of the couch. His worn hand promotes obedience with firm discipline, and he strikes your bare ass ten times in a row, upping the heat in his palm with every slap.

“You know exactly what I want to hear.”

You growl, “Alright, Daddy, stop it.”

“Your manners are atrocious.” He slips his finger into your puckered asshole. “Well, it is a daddy’s job to teach his little girl some manners.”

His two fingers fuck into you with the same intensity as when his digits explored your pussy. You shake your head and kick your feet.

“Feels weird! Please!”

“Please what? You want me to stop and fuck you normally? Fuck your tight little pussy until you’re squirting on my cock?”

You nod your head. “Yes, yes, Daddy, yes!”

“Will you be grateful now when I fuck you? Will you be good for me and take it instead of whining like a little brat?” His fingers drive deeper into your hole, and you squirm at the uncomfortableness of his handling.

“Yes, I’m sorry I was acting bad!”

He pats your sore bottom a few times, withdrawing his fingers from your back hole.

“Turn over and spread your legs for me, snow bunny.”

This time, you obey him, not wanting to be spanked or fucked in the ass.

He pushes his mushroom tip, heated with his quirk, deep inside of your soaked cunt. You throw your head back, feeling like he’s going to split you in half. You feel his tip press into your stomach, a bulge forming where he’s situated in your cervix.

You whimper, gripping onto his back, holding him close to you as you raise your hips to meet his.

Anything to get him to come and release you.

Anything for you to come now that you’re all buzzed.

And when he does fuck you so hard, jackrabbiting into you like a feral animal, his balls slapping your ass where he spanked you so hard with each punishing hit, he pounds you into an oblivion.

You gush around the fat head of his dick, and not even a few moments later, he’s making sure you’re filled with his seed.

Pulling out, his cock leers at you as he kneels over your chest. “Be a good girl and clean Daddy off.”

The thought of sucking your come and his off of his own dick doesn’t sound very pleasant, but at the same time, you just want this to end. You pump him a few times with your lips, knowing better than to bite down or scrape him with your teeth. You breathe through your nose all the while, making it clean of all the juices.

You pull away from him, looking up at him with pleading and teary eyes. “Is that…is that okay?”

“Yeah, my little snow storm. That’s good.”

He picks you up in his arms. “You were so good for Daddy, listening like such an obedient little slut. I’m proud of you. Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for that nap.”

He gives you a kiss on the head, and you rest your cheek against his chest.

Maybe next time, you can figure out how to fight him and actually back up what you have to say.

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere themes #triggering content #triggering themes #my hero acedamia #my hero academia #yandere my hero academia #boku no hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere shoto x reader #yandere shoto todoroki #mha shoto todoroki #bnha shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto

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sorchathered · 2 months

Text

In your love (part 2 of something in the orange🧡)

Pairing- Robert (Bob) Floyd x medic reader

Summary- Deployments had always been risky, this one more so than others. Bob is on edge and feeling his mortality, all he wants is to bury himself in his wife and forget the pain for a little while.

Warnings- this is 100% filth yall, smutty smut minors dni and wrap it up if ya know what I mean. Mentions of death, injuries, ptsd.

A/N- This is a part 2 of Something in the Orange, if you haven’t read it yet check it out here. Can be read without!

You could see the carrier in the distance, nervously rocking on the balls of your feet near the dock and you were dizzy with the anticipation of what was to come. Your husband had been gone 6 months on a deployment that had originally started as two. It had been an honor to be chosen from a select few pilots and WSO’s but it had broken both your hearts for you to have to stay behind with the rest of the squad. You’d moved to San Diego nearly two years before to be the Chief Medical Officer for the Dagger Squad, reuniting with the love of your life Lt. Robert Floyd. It hadn’t been long before he was on one knee, and then even less time for the two of you to head to the altar, life was too short and you’d spent too long apart to wait for the perfect time. This mission in particular had been more dangerous than others, sometimes going weeks at a time without contact and from what you had heard from the carrier there’d been significant injuries and one casualty. He’d been on edge the last few calls you’d gotten, his normal bright demeanor overpowered by short snappy answers, but he’d been quick to apologize in the next breath because that was just who Robert Floyd was; unwaveringly kind even when everything was going to shit.

You knew this reunion would be different than others and you had already been mentally preparing yourself for the weekend ahead. Prepped all his favorite meals and snacks so they could be easily accessible, bought almost an entire paycheck’s worth of fancy lingerie and primped and prepped every inch of your body to look like a perfect little housewife when he crossed the dock to meet you. He would need control after the time away and you would give him anything he wanted until he was completely sated and at peace.

He’d been pacing the dock since dawn, bunk completely spotless and packed full of nervous energy. This special mission had been too close of a call, two people on the team had been seriously injured after a dangerous ejection, and he and Phoenix were nearly caught in a jet wash during a dogfight that had him feeling his mortality. It had been hard without the rest of the Daggers and his favorite medic to keep them grounded, He needed stability more than ever right now, in all honesty would probably have to see the behavioral health counselor for a few sessions to begin the process of feeling like himself again. None of the squad had been themselves lately, holding themselves together by a thread just so they could get home to their loved ones. He could see the dock now, and his phone lit up with a text from you.

“I can see the carrier, I’ll be waiting near the lot for you baby.”

He quickly replied with trembling fingers, “Be ready for me sugar, I’ve missed you so much.”

You felt a chill run down your spine as you read the message, the anticipation was getting the better of you squeezing your thighs together in your tiny pink sundress for some relief.

It felt like ages as he milled through the crowd, everyone rushing to meet their loved ones made the air suffocatingly heavy. He couldn’t blame them truly, if it had been a run of the mill deployment he would have wanted the same from you, but his skin was on fire and he couldn’t get out of this crowd fast enough. He caught Natasha and her girlfriend on the way out to the lot, hugging them both quickly knowing she was no doubt as weary as he was. As the crowd began to clear he finally saw you, leaning against his old truck anxiously scanning the throngs of people for him. The moment your eyes met you were on the move, rushing for him as he dropped his duffle and caught you around the waist. He breathed you in as you cried into his shoulder, you smelled like your strawberry perfume and he let it ground him. He was home, you were both safe, and everything would be ok.

He’d dropped his bags and said hello to your menagerie of animals, before plopping himself down on the couch with a heavy sigh. He made to unlace his boots but you stilled his hands, settling on your knees while you helped him remove them both. He leaned forward to steal a kiss, he’d meant it to be innocent really, but once he’d tasted your lips he needed more, hauling you up into his lap while you both disrobed with urgency, moans spilling from your lips as he tasted your tongue and slid his hands underneath your dress to find you bare for him.

“Oh good girl, you knew exactly what I needed didn’t you baby?” He said as you nodded furiously and made to remove him from his flight suit, dragging it and his briefs to his ankles. “Use me Robby, let it all out it’s ok sweetheart your home with me you’re safe now” you said as you settled back into his lap and he couldn’t hold back anymore, sliding into you was like heaven, warm, wet heat enveloping him as he fucked you hard, both of you falling over the edge in a matter of minutes, Bob stifling a cry as he bit down on your shoulder, tears of relief in both of your eyes.

You showered together which resulted in you on your knees, he hadn’t planned to need you again so quickly but his body clearly had other plans. Once you were both clean and comfortable you sat in his lap and fed him dinner, and once again he felt that familiar feeling take over, pushing the plates and cups out of the way so that he could spread you out across the table, unwrapping you from your robe like a Christmas present as his hands and mouth roamed over your neck and shoulders, littering more bruises along your collarbones and the tops of your breasts before sucking a nipple into his mouth. You whined his name and pushed your chest into him as he licked and sucked there, then paid equal attention to the other. You were desperate for him as you wrapped your legs around his waist and he could feel you dripping onto his abs and leaving a wet patch over the top of his briefs while you grinded on him to find some relief.

“Please Robby, I need more- so good baby please” you fussed and moaned restlessly but he wasn’t letting up, he hadn’t tasted your skin in months and he was going to take all night if that’s what he desired, and he knew you’d let him because you needed him just as much.

He slipped his index and middle finger into your mouth to soothe you as he hushed you, beginning his descent toward your soaking wet pussy. When he finally wrapped his lips around your throbbing clit you sobbed, tears pooling from your eyes and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him impossibly harder watching you cry from pleasure. You’d always told him he went down on you like he was starving, you being the only thing that could fill that void and you couldn’t be more right. He relished in it, the noises you made, the taste of your arousal as he licked you from your hole to clit, the way you trembled and grasped his hair, all of it was the best medicine for what ailed him. You were so close, shaking thighs and sweaty limbs as you babbled nonsense at him and he had a brief thought to edge you a little longer, see how mad he could truly drive you but you’d been so good for him today so he gave in as you begged and begged for him to let you cum.

“Ok pretty baby, it’s ok shhh ‘m gonna give you what you want sweet girl” he murmured into you and then slipped his two fingers from your mouth into your aching cunt. Your back came off the table and you gasped out a shocked cry, gushing onto his hands and into his mouth, it felt like you had been pulled from your body and you couldn’t seem to come down from your high, vision blacking out at the corners and you were sure you’d lost consciousness. Bob was kissing you, that was one thing you were sure of, but you couldn’t seem to form words or use your hands to reach for him and he just chuckled at your feeble attempts to reciprocate his affections.

When you finally settled for the night he’d pulled you tightly to his body, desperate to keep the nightmares at bay with your warm embrace. Eventually he would talk about it all, how he’d thought he’d never see you again, the thought of leaving you and the baby girl you were carrying bringing a fear he’d never known to the surface. Hand pressed to your stomach as he felt her little flutters and kicks the tears finally flowed freely, his whole world was here in this bed, everything he’d ever dreamed of.

Words of reassurance and kisses pressed into his chest were enough to finally send him off to sleep, dreams no longer filled with longing, but full of hope.

Tagging people who might be interested- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @sailor-aviator @bobgasm @floydsmuse @floydsglasses @attapullman @sebsxphia

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