#because i don't want to fucking start a relationship like that are you fucking insane

[madlori]

On Tommy Kinard

"It's not that I don't like Buck and Tommy, it's just happening so fast, he's underdeveloped!"

*clears throat*

Here is a recap of what we know about Tommy. And this is just off the top of my head, I didn't rewatch anything.

He was closeted at the 118 before and found the atmosphere repressive. He (probably) acted like a dick to fit in. When presented with the chance to make things better, he took it, and developed positive relationships with Hen, Chim and Bobby.

He was in the army and trained there as a pilot.

He knows Muay Thai and has a set up in his house.

He likes to work on cars and has a lift at his house (where TF does he live is my question - he has some nerve being agog at Buck's loft if he has a muay thai gym and a car lift)

He is down for violating departmental policy at the drop of a hat (has done so on at least two occasions) to help a friend and has no problems fucking with the fire chief.

He is a nerd. He likes pub trivia and has incorrect Star Wars opinions, and can keep up with Chim in the movie-quoting department.

His favorite movie is "Love, Actually" and he likes craft beer and monster trucks.

He came out when he transferred to Harbor and felt comfortable enough to stop lying about who he was.

He follows MMA and has friends in Vegas who like him well enough to hook him up to a frankly insane degree.

He'll risk his own life and engage in helicopter skulduggery to save people he doesn't know...I mean, apart from doing that for a living.

He'll take time out of his day to give a tour to the cute boy who called him up and offer to give that boy flying lessons (a significant time investment) which was probably maybe about more one on one time with said boy.

He yearns for the belonging and found family that the 118 became after his departure and probably befriended Eddie hoping to earn a plate at the cookout, aside from just clicking with him.

He likes Eddie and Chris a lot and they like him. Chimney also likes him.

He was attracted to Buck right away and was emotionally aware enough to pick up on Buck's jealous feelings over Eddie and his friendship, even if he was surprised that it was him Buck wanted to get to know.

He respects and values Buck and Eddie's friendship and wanted to make sure Buck knew that.

He's brave enough to shoot his shot by planting one on a dude.

He's a lil bitchy but also generous and ready to throw in with this insane guy who's inviting him to a family wedding after 0.5 dates.

He showed up to a bachelor party when he was on call because Buck asked him to, then showed up in turnouts after fighting a fire for like 12 hours yadda yadda we all know this part.

He has got it BAD for one Evan Buckley, who he only calls "Evan" which according to LFJR is a conscious decision by the writers, which fascinates me.

He was willing to take a chance with a man just discovering his sexuality BUT wasn't willing to put himself through that if the man in question wasn't ready for it. When Buck showed him that he was, he was all in.

He does NOT take his coffee like that.

Oh and

He's a beast.

This is VASTLY more information than we knew about ANY of Buck's previous girlfriends with the possible exception of Abby. Even Taylor did not get this much development over 20 episodes (things we knew about her: she was an ambitious and ethically flexible reporter, did not eat fudge, had a dad in jail, and sometimes jogged for exercise, she was capable of being nice and did love Buck, I believe). And as for it being fast? Sometimes it just be like that? A relationship doesn't have to have year(s) of buildup. Sometimes people do just meet, like each other, and start dating, in fact in the real world that's usually what happens. It's in TV Land that you have to have eighteen seasons of UST before pulling the trigger. Most of the time in reality people just vibe off each other and decide to go out and THEN they learn about each other.

And they've got a great start. You'd think they'd barely spoken by how a few naysayers are talking about it - the loft scene was like a solid five minutes of very open conversation, the Cringe Date seemed to have gone well and again, open and honest (if cringey) conversation before Cockblocker Eddie showed up, and the coffee meetup was again....open and honest conversation. They're not gonna show us long scenes of them exchanging firefighting stories and workout preferences (I mean, I'd watch that, but it's not what the show is about).

In conclusion, anyone saying he's poorly developed or the relationship is "out of nowhere" either is being willfully obtuse or has ridiculously unrealistic expectations for relationships and/or what constitutes character development.

As for whether they have chemistry, that's a matter of subjective opinion. Given that a TON of people watched that harbor tour scene (even when it was posted as a sneak peek) and started going "wait...what's going on here...are they flirting??" might be a clue. People were talking about Bi!Buck maybe happening with Tommy based solely off that clip of the harbor tour and what they were seeing between them. And imho that loft scene was crackling. But we all see things through the lenses of our biases, myself included.

Got that off my chest, whew.

#9-1-1 #evan buckley #bucktommy #911 #tevan #kinley #tommy kinard #9-1-1 meta #9-1-1 shipping #fandom discourse #firepilot #trying to use all the ship tags we have #buck x tommy

[lover-of-mine]

it’s so interesting that with previous love interests, it was normal and fine to not ship them and to still want buddie in the future, but now, we have to sit down and shut up and accept that it’s never happening and B/T are forever

oh no wait, it’s not interesting, it’s annoying and confusing and frankly just weird. misogynistic and borderline fetishistic

shipping non-canon couples, especially ones with 6 years of history and love and shared experiences, is the norm in literally every fandom, but now suddenly it’s wrong and how dare we

a fair few of the people saying this are also, conveniently, the ones implying that B’s bisexuality is tied to T and T alone and if we don’t ship them, we don’t support bi!B

how. very. interesting! /annoying/confusing/weird

So interesting. Dude, I got called homophobic because I didn't immediately look at them in 703 and decided they were true love. In 703. Because I didn't look at the shoulder touch and immediately started shipping them. Homophobic with all the letters. I got yelled at. After 703. Legit almost deleted this whole blog over some of the things that got sent. I was legitimately crying with friends who are not in the fandom if I was being unreasonable or insane or whatever else I got called for not jumping in instantly and to ask if I was actually doing something wrong. People were saying we were being weird about queer storylines. That we needed to shut the fuck up and enjoy the way Oliver Stark was gonna make out with a hot guy. That not being on board the ship meant that we had an unreasonable and ridiculous necessity of making sure Eddie was the only guy for Buck. Literally every single person in this fandom hc Buck 1.0 also hooked up with guys. Most people never acted as if Buck needs to be guided through his queerness by this hot older guy. Oh, wait, no, they did. With T. People automatically decided that Buck needed a queer Yoda. That he needed someone to hold his hand and be a guide. They added a fucked up power dynamic from the get go. With no information, Buck was already a baby that needed his hand held through his own sexuality. And let me tell you one thing, I know for a FACT that if it was Eddie, the automatic reaction wouldn't be putting T in this idealized experienced gay guide position when that would've made more sense (not that I think any of them needs a guide) because Eddie is the one with the body count you can count with one hand and a weird relationship with sex. But somehow I'm the one who's weird about Buck's sexuality. I don't want Buck to explore. I need Buck to only have loved Eddie. Sure. Look, I don't wanna multiship. The same way everyone is allowed to ship whatever the fuck they want, I'm allowed to not ship whatever the fuck I want. If it was a woman no one would've been in my inbox basically demanding I make the same level of analysis I make for buddie for them (let me tell you one thing too, if I made the level of analysis I do with buddie with bt, no one would like what I have to say ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯) but I'm still getting asked for it for some reason when I never indicated I ship the two.

But I'm not allowed to have any critical thoughts about anything involving bt or else I'm being weird and that's the mild term that's being used. I can't point out the fact that T left Buck in a curb and failed to communicate shit properly even though it happened in canon. I can't say that I think it felt kinda callous for him to say "they had henleys in the 80s" to Buck being upset T didn't dress on theme (also, the job requires them to change into a uniform by nature, he could've put a colorful shirt and indulged Buck a little bit there without it interfering with the way he was on standby but I can't say that or else I'm a hater). There is no criticism allowed in the ship but somehow I'm the one being weird. I don't think Buck should be in a relationship. I think Buck is still exhibiting the same patterns when it comes to love interests. And yes, I would feel the same way if it was Eddie. Buck doesn't know how to be happy alone and he will never be happy in a relationship until he learns that. I was saying that when it was Natalia and getting praised for my understanding of Buck's character. Now I'm locking Buck onto Eddie. Buck's bisexuality is only valid if he's actively kissing a guy for some people but I'm the one being weird. BT have so many visual parallels to bucktaylor, but if I say that's a bad sign I'm being a hater. I need to sit my ass down, ignore six seasons of buildup, accept that it's over, and that now making Eddie queer and getting buddie together would suck because it would destroy the friendship they built so bt are endgame and gonna get married and somehow I'm the one who's being weird about queer relationships and attaching Buck bisexuality to a person. The fandom lost its fucking mind when they saw Oliver kiss a guy and, yeah, it does feel misogynistic and borderline fetishizing. But somehow I'm the one getting blocked by half the fandom when I'm not even pointing everything I want out. I lose at least one mutual every time I even suggest maybe we should look at things a bit more critically. I have to sit here and justify things to an insane degree while people's reaction to any of the criticism is "uH BuT T Is hOt aNd hE Is a gUy sO It iS DiFfErEnT oKaY?" Critical thinking skills went out the window because now there's a guy involved and that's fucking weird. People are straight up erasing Eddie, the actual main character of the show, Buck's established partner of years, Buck's best friend, the only person in canon who never left Buck in any capacity, because some guy kissed Buck and, he, uh *check notes* treats Buck as an actual human being? so that means he's perfect. It's nuts. The bar is hell.

Yes, I know this is not everyone in the fandom and I know this is not everyone who ships them but if what I'm saying feels like a personal attack to you maybe you should do some thinking. Anyone can ship anything, you want to ship them go off, power to you, the weird part here is the way some people are demanding other people ship it too. We could all be coexisting if people didn't get weirdly comfortable demanding shit from other people in the fandom and deciding their opinion is the only one that matters so they need to call out anyone who thinks differently, but alas, that's too much to ask.

#i went off on this one sorry #kalaakapakaoakoaa #cant wait to get blocked by more people #anyway #i guess im really done being civil #unhinged anna is being unhinger #anti bucktommy #911 #i really need a tag for asks #anon 😌

[redxx95]

Tachibana & Kurosawa parallels that are making me go insane

Hey guys so I had some Thoughts that are not letting me go so I did some digging and now I'm gonna present yall with my findings. They are horrible. (Spoilers for volume 14)

So how this all started is me wondering if Kurosawa ever feels a little guilty about entering a relationship with Adachi, since things could've been a lot easier for him if he'd simply gone out with a woman (to him it would've been Fujisaki) instead. He often mentions Adachi could've been happy without him, after all.

Then I remembered this bit from the end of volume 14 about how Adachi doesn't know how to deal with advances because Kurosawa was always intercepting them for him and decided to properly translate all of it.

"Adachi felt guilty, but him not understanding the tactics of love or how to evade invitations is my fault. I don't want anyone to take him away, but I also don't want him to ever learn any of this. Of course I can't tell him that though."

Tactics of love, huh. You mean like...

Giving little compliments... (The phrasing here is almost the same in japanese except Tachibana is using polite speech)

Offering favors...

Invading personal space...

Going "hey you like this thing, why don't we do this thing together?" ...

Helping out when they're weak and vulnerable...

You mean tactics like that? Man it sure is convenient that Adachi remains blissfully unaware of any of this huh. Okay So. Before you raise your pitchforks at me, yes there's obviously some nuance in all of this. Kurosawa is doing all of this to befriend Adachi, first and foremost. He wants to be closer to him because he loves him. Tachibana (as far as I can tell) just wants to get in his pants lmao Also Adachi's a Grown Ass Man and can definitely make his own decisions, and it's not like he got really manipulated either, since he could read Kurosawa's thoughts and intentions the whole time. I could still see Kurosawa having some self-doubts about their relationship though, if he ever realizes that he might have "manipulated" Adachi into a relationship that is objectively worse for him, considering the alternative of being with a woman and completely evading all the problems they've had with homophobia. Not to mention that Adachi is clearly good with kids and might want some of his own, which is something he can't have with Kurosawa, since adoption requires couples to be married in Japan and gay marriage is illegal, as we know. What if Kurosawa ruined Adachi's chances to lead a happy life, for his own selfish reasons?

...

Now, here come my truly insane speculations about vol 15 and how this could tie in with drama around Matsuura :)

So on that last page she's clearly approaching Tachibana, who, as we can read pages before, wants to get black-out drunk to forget all his romantic woes. Which means he will be very talkative to a nosy Matsuura. There's no doubt in my mind that he'll reveal literally everything to her, how he wanted to go for this cute, inexperienced coworker named Adachi and how he got told to back off by his big scary boyfriend named Kurosawa. "Oh yea they work together at Toyokawa. I even told him it's really risky to date coworkers, can you believe it?!" Matsuura just goes "Oh that is Interesting."

She might even try to get under Kurosawa's skin by drawing parallels to his harassment in vol 1 and him pursuing Adachi, since Kurosawa has a higher position in their company and earns more, and Adachi being inexperienced. One could easily construe this as a power imbalance between them. Throw into the mix the issue of being "forced into a relationship that's looked down upon by society" and the looming threat of their relationship being revealed to their workplace and Kurosawa might truly spiral, maybe even breaking up with Adachi, just to fulfill yet another parallel to Tachibana.

Man would that be fucked up or what haha

#cherry magic #spoilers for japanese volumes #the deranged ramblings of someone with too much cm brainrot

[thawthebeez]

saw someone on hq tiktok finally (FINALLY) agree that hinata and kageyama should be on separate teams post time skip and that it isn't actually as devastating some 'shobio fans' think it is AND THERE ARE STILL PEOPLE IN THE COMMENTS GETTING IT WRONG. "i'm sad that they're on separate teams" if you wanted to tell me that you only see hinata and kageyama as ""Shobio"" as opposed to individuals who happen to have some queer undertones you could have just said that y'know..

#no because if you're sad that they're not on the same team forever then you don't see them as their own characters sorry #hinata and kageyama are their own characters! i should not have to be saying this! #they are not “”shobio“” or whatever you kids are calling them these days #also the way the ship name shobio spread on tt like wildfire as a way to establish superiority over a large part of the fandom is insane #like i get it you want to “distance yourself from the toxic kagehina shippers” but you shobio shippers are no as superior as u think u are. #ESPECIALLY if you can't view kageyama and hinata separately and can only see them as a couple #because if u viewed them separately then you would be happy that they're living out their INDIVIDUAL dreams as professional athletes #it's not my fault their dreams just so happen to involve each other. that's their gay shit man i'm just a part of the audience #tldr; tiktok haikyuu fandom please get a firm fucking grip on hinata and kageyama's individual characters before you start ranting about ho #much you love shobio. i promise it'll benefit you. #understanding hinata and kageyama through their relationship and understanding them through their backstory is NOT the same thing🫶 #volleyball guys

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

I love fics where Peter is actually a little shit cause most writers write him as a sweet cinnamon roll. And sure he is that when it comes to morals, but have you guys met a 14 year old? I am the oldest sibling and i promise you I have met every version of a shithead teenager under the fucking sun. And yes ALL of them are shitheads who WILL lie if they think it's funny or just for the kicks of it to any and all authority figures (i still do it and I'm 16)

In response to the Bernie's fic

he really gets the sweet summer child treatment in fandom and it really shows that a lot of fic writers have never spent extended time with a teenager in their life. like, i was a math tutor for a while, and like. a teenager myself for a FEW years, and you will NOT find a demographic more down to commit felonies for shits and giggles. i can't even say that he reads like a much younger kid, because honestly, fandom peter doesn't really read like a real person at all to me. like, he's insane. he's a good person. but he is insane. this is fundamental to him.

#there are few core traits of peter #he is good #he is principled #he is clinically insane #he has a pathological attachment to committing to the fucking bit #you do not go your entire life in a spider-themed onesie and not rebrand if you are not committed to the bit #fandom peter is honestly weird to me #he's like. so babified. #like i know everyone wants him to have more and more father figures but you are not going to find a teenager alive who is willing to start #calling a guy they just met dad and start hugging him and all that jazz #it's honestly baffling #like fandom peter simply could not cut it on the streets i am sorry to say #there are some absolute golden fics that profoundly understand peter and the authors are stars and the fics are god tier #but a lot of fandom spiderman stuff is disappointing because he's sort of infantilized and not given many characteristics past loving tony #and like don't get me wrong you can absolutely have a close relationship with peter and tony #but a lot of them are like. borderline unhealthy levels of hero worship #like he is spider-man for a reason and that reason is he was willing to fling his own human body off a fucking building for the aesthetic #i love my peters that are worrisome forces of chaos #if an adult does not age 1000 years after knowing him a day #then he is not chaotic enough

[bewby]

I'MM LAUGHINGGG SO JARD I FUCKING KNEW IT I KNEWWWW IT I KNEW THAT CISHET MEN WHO ARE NICE TO ME ARE JUST NICE TO ME BECAUSW THEY WANT SOMETHING ROMANTIC I CAAABNIIIKJJNTNTNNN basically it was only me and my two female coworkers today at work for the late shift and they were like we haveeee to show you this voice mail you will laugh and i was like wjat happened and it turns out our only male fucking coworker is friends with this one customer that comes in everyday and rhis customer was like. in a voice mail to our male coworker. Yeah Your Coworkers AreSo Hot And I Want Them which already made me scream from laughrer but it turns oht my fucking coworker literally said to him "once seven is single she's mine i reserved her" DO YOU KBOW HOW FUCKIRKWKQHAIAOAHAVNSNEKQKQBDJDKS BRO I'M FONNA SHIT MYSELF IN FRONT OF YOU WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU RESERVED ME WHO THE FUCK SAID RHAT BE FOR FUCKING REAL PLEASE INGMNVG I'M GOLKJGGGG.. and our coworker fucking shared. our work plan today. which he is not allowed to but. he still did and therefore the customer who said we're hot came in 4 times today JUST TO FUCKINT SEEE US I'M GONNA RIPALL OF MY TEETH OUT PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE and all this time i already had a bad feeling about my male coworker btw like i never even talk to him because i knew that if i did he would assume i fucking want him which . I 'm not even gonna go in depth about how i would rather kms than be with him but digresss ❤️ hehehehehehe. anyways! i wish men could actually be nice to me for once without doing all this weird shit 🤣 like god please can you be friendly without any feelings attached like what are you a fucking monkey i'm gonna die. sorry if any of this sounds mean lmk i just can't fucking believe this

#oh yeah btw i am single but i lied because they fuckikg tried to set me up with that male coworker So i was like UMM I'M TAKEN. also #because i don't want to fucking start a relationship like that are you fucking insane #Anyways. When he came in a third time. me and my coworker fucking screamed feom laughter which was fun. i hate my job bur rhis is fun :)

[ohbother2]

Hi! I don't know if you write for Adam, but this man has me in an unholy choke hold and I've literally read through all the Adam fics on this site already. I am begging, on my hands and knees, for you to please write an Adam x female reader smut oneshot. Literally anything you want.

I absolutely loved your Lucifer close proximity fic btw!! You're writing is literally insane and I just know you'd do Adam's character justice!

Thank youuuu

Thank you!! Sorry this is coming out so long after you sent it in, but hope you guys enjoy!

Also to other ppl reading this! I've seen your lovely messages in my inbox and I 100% intend on responding to them I'm just swamped with Uni work at the moment. But thank you all so much!!

This is literally pure smut btw, minors DNI!! Adam is very Adam in this. Lmk what you guys think I love to hear your thoughts! Especially because Adam is so hard to write!

Tag list - @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

Adam x f!reader - After a Shitty Meeting with the Blond Short-Stack

To put it bluntly, Adam had had a particularly shitty day, and that was saying a lot considering there were absolutely no bad days in heaven. This day, however, had seemed to drag on for an eternity, and by the end of it he felt like punching a whole through every window that he walked past on his way home from work, having to walk instead of fly because he was too furious to trust his wings not to give out on him if he became too lost in thought. 

To summarise, he had had to meet Lucifer today, the pompous, prideful, wife-stealing piece of short-blonde-shit that lorded about Hell as if he wasn’t banished there purposefully for his sins. The meeting wasn’t in person, with him attending from Heaven and Lucifer attending from Hell, but simply being within any sort of presence of the blond gnome had his blood boiling and his fingers itching to grab the nearest weapon and shove it through his chest. And today, well, Lucifer had gone too far.

Sure, Adam may have started it with some comment about Lucifer’s daughters failing redemption-business, and how the timer was ticking until the upcoming extermination, but really, who was Lucifer to dare let your name spill from his lips? In a mockery of your and Adam’s relationship no less. 

That self-entitled little shit-eating smirk had graced Lucifer’s ridiculously rosy cheeks, and he had dared insinuate he could steal you right from under Adam’s nose the next time you went down to Hell, just like his two previous wives. He was thankful for his mask which had concealed the utter shock-horror that had overtaken his features at the insult, but he also wished Lucifer would have seen his absolute unbridled hatred once he had rebounded from the insult: if looks could have killed, Lucifer would have been incinerated on the spot. The comment had riled Adam up so much that Lute had had to step in to steer the meeting back on track, and it had taken all of his self-control, and Lute’s, to stop him from immediately teleporting down to Hell and blasting Lucifer to whatever the fuck came after Hell. He grumbles to himself angrily, hand rubbing at his temples as he finally reaches his front door. God, he just wanted to have a drink and go to bed, where hopefully he would dream about murdering Lucifer and lording it up with you above his grave. Maybe you guys could make out right next to his grave, that would really prove a point. 

He slams the front door shut harsher than he should have, and immediately storms through the house, desperate to just see you in one of the rooms – he’d even break into the bathroom even if you were mid-shit if he had to, he just had to see you. 

“Babe?” He calls, wings tucked tightly against his back as he prowls the corridor, poking his masked head into each room he came across, finally relaxing when he saw you relaxing with a book curled up in the loveseat in the living room. 

“Adam!” You grin over at him, and the tension in his shoulders shifts at the sight, releasing a tight breath as you perk up as he approaches, tucking your bookmark back into place and waiting for him expectantly. Of course you would be here, he reprimands himself, furious that Lucifer could get to him in such a way; where else would you be? “How was your day? You had that meeting right? Did it go well?” You rapid-fire your questions, and you suddenly frown as he approaches. “You’ve still got your mask on, it didn’t go well.”

“Yes, hello sugar, it’s nice to see you too, damn.” He mutters, frustrated at himself for being so easy to read, and frustrated at you for reading him so easily, finally coming to a stop before you. “Can’t a man just wear his cool-ass mask? I just forgot, okay?” 

“You can do anything you please, I’m just worried.” You look up at him sympathetically, and he immediately knew his tough-guy act was immediately lost on you. Who was he kidding? Today had been particularly shit, and he just wanted to be with you. Not to ease his worries, no, no, he was secure in his relationship, confident in his charm (he was fucking Adam, who could compare?) but just… because he wanted to be with you.

He wasn’t even convincing himself. 

“Want to talk about it?” You ask softly, watching as he tugs the mask from his face and places it against the coffee table. His hair was a mess, and you could see the way his brows pinched into a light frown as he attempted to hide his frustration. 

“Fuck no.” He shakes his head. “You’re right, the meeting went shitty. That pompous little prick-“ He cuts himself off, pursing his lips lightly as he stares down at you. He didn’t want to tell you what Lucifer had said. He knew you wouldn’t suddenly act on what he had said, but still, he daren’t even breathe the possibility into existence. “I just want to be home, with you.” 

“I think I can help with that.” You grin, shuffling over on the love seat and staring up at him expectantly, an absolutely lovely smile on your rosy lips.

"What would I do without you?" Adam questions, sitting down next to you heavily and leaning in for a proper kiss. One of his large hands falls to your waist as he leans in closer, your back leaning against the arm of the armrest as he approaches, slender fingers weaving into the locks at the nape of his neck to hold him closer. He pulls away for a moment, pressing heavy kisses against your jawline, eyes closed to the world and enjoying the feeling of your fingertips against the nape of his neck. 

"Is there anything else I could help with?" You utter softly, head tilting back to expose your neck. A sudden grin takes over your features. You were about to play with fire, but you couldn't help yourself. "Perhaps give Lucifer a talking to?" 

"Why," he growls, pressing one last kiss beneath your ear before he pulls back, both hands falling to your twisted hips. "would you mention that old fucks name when I have my lips against you." 

"Just trying to help." You bats your eyelashes playfully, a laugh escaping you at his furrowed expression. 

"I seem to recall you saying 'anything I please' not only five minutes ago." He leans closer, a hand grasping the armrest you leant against, caging you in with a devilish grin. "This is how you can help. Distract me." 

"Adam!" You mock, palms sliding up his biceps and resting against his chest as you lean further back, further from his lips. His eyes narrow in frustration. "I fear you have misunderstood-"

"You know exactly what you were doing, babe." 

A flash of pearly white teeth as you laugh again, fingers pulling at his lapels to drag him closer. "I'm afraid I don't."

His lips cover yours as a hand slides beneath you, a hand grasping firmly at your ass as he sucks all air from your lungs, a moan rewarding his efforts. Adam moans as a hand tugs at his locks, pulling your waist closer as he bores down, a knee sliding up your skirt and forcing your legs to part, falling freely without encouragement. Your red silk skirt bunches up around your waist, guided by his hands to expose your milky thighs to the cool air. You gasp against him.

"You going to be good for me?" He mumbles against your lips, large hands guiding your hips, thigh rubbing at your heat through the thin layer of your underwear. "You going to be a good girl and distract me?" 

You hum in response, vocalising your pleasure as his tongue slides into your mouth, not even bothering to put up a fight as Adam hungrily licks into your mouth, grip forcing your hips to shift against his own as you grasp at his biceps. 

"You’re such a fucking tease." He moans between kisses to your skin, hands tugging fabric from your collarbone as he kisses lower. "If I wasn’t as generous, I’d make you do all the work tonight." He presses another deep kiss to your lips, caging you between his arms and nestling between your parted thighs. "Lucky for you I’m fucking pissed." 

"Adam." You groan quietly, eyes fluttering as he licks his way down the column of your throat, teeth grazing your hot skin as he yanks your top down your shoulders. He doesn’t bother unhooking your bra, splitting it down the middle with a grin and ignoring your complaints with a harsh bite into the skin of your breast. Adam grins against your reddening skin as his free hand comes up to grip your other breast, rolling the bud tightly between his fingers as he sucks and bites around the swell of your breast. He groans at the feeling of your hands gripping his broad shoulders, fingers edging closer and closer to his wings, hips rolling forward and cock twitching in his garments. He delves forward, warm mouth wrapping around a pert nipple without warning, Adam pays you no mind when you gasp at a particularly hard nip, suckling hungrily as his left-hand travels lower to press your hips up and against him. Your head lolls back as he groans around your bud, thrusting his hips against your clothed core. He continues, on and on, until the pained groans turn into pleasured whines, your thighs quivering around his hips and hands carding through his locks.

He pulls away for air, pressing sloppy kisses along the wet skin at your chest. "Look at you, I’ve not even touched you and you’re whining like a bitch." He groans, pressing a kiss to the swollen nipple pinched between his fingers. "I know I’m good, but this is pitiful babe. Fucking desperate.”

You had half a mind to remind him that he was the one that had stormed into your living room and practically demanded you attention after a shitty day, but with his mouth against you and hands gripping your thighs like his life depended on it, you were happy to remain silent, breathing airily as he sucked harshly at your skin. 

“I’d be a pretty shitty husband if I just left my wife like this, huh?"

“Adam-“ You go to warn at his mockingly coy tone, him having played this hard-to-get game before and leaving you wanting until it was actually you desperate for his touch, and not the other way around. This time, however, he didn’t have the patience for such games, your voice dying with a hitch of breath as he latches onto your other nipple, free hand travelling beneath your skirt to the damp spot growing against your underwear. He circles the damp fabric, feather-light and teasing, not yet touching the place you craved the most. 

"Adam, baby," You breath heavily, chest heaving as he continues to lavish a pert nipple with his tongue, hands tugging at his robe and sliding down the smooth skin of his chest. "Adam, please."

With a harsh nip he unlatches from your chest, peering down at you with dark eyes, the gold barely glinting in the dim light of the room, breathing heavy. A smirk tugs at his lips, brunet locks falling in front of his eyes as you continue to work yourself against his thigh, wide eyes shining and whining pathetically. 

"Please, what?" He shifts, clothed cock pressing harshly against your groin, rutting once, twice. "Fuck you? Make you feel good? Feel better than anyone else ever could?” He rolls his hips again, you whimper. "Or, please stop? Leave you in this state? Return to my duties?"

"No, no- please," your breath hitches as he bites at the soft mound of flesh below your right nipple, a trail of red and purple left behind as he nips lower. "Please, fuck me." Your hands finally dig into his wings, close to where they joined at his back, fingertips digging into the feathers and tugging lightly. You can feel the way his hands tighten either side of your ribcage, and you can see the way his pupils dilate as a red hue creeps up his neck and flushes the skin of his cheeks.

"Fuck," he moans, cock twitching in his breaches. His thumbs dig into your abdomen as his hands clench against your hips, stopping you from moving against him. God, this was exactly what he needed after this shitty day. You must have been some sort of Saint in disguise. "You fucking tease, fucking hands in my-“ He has to stop when you tug again, and he glowers down at you as your nails scratch their way down the centre of his golden wings, the tips twitching as he tries to remain in control. 

“Oh yeah, baby? That's how you want to do this?" His voice had deepened to the familiar gravelling husk that you loved so dearly, and you can do nothing but nod fervently, the sound going straight to your core. You knew exactly what you were doing toying with his wings, and he knew just as well as you what that meant. Adam takes in the sight before him; the heaving chest, the perfect slender column of your exposed throat, the exposed milky-white of your spread thighs, the wide glossy eyes just pleading for him to move. He breathes deeply at the way your skirt bunches around your waist, your whole body on show except from a pathetic soaking pair of underwear. "Fucking perfect."

A rough hand suddenly against your throat has you falling boneless against the armrest, eyes rolling as Adam’s fist tightens, his wings twitching upwards as your hands fall to noncommittally pry at his fingers around your neck. 

"Hng, please-" You rasp, spreading your legs as far as the backrest of the loveseat would allow, hands clenching into the fabric of the sofa beneath you. 

"You'll get fucked," Adam whispers harshly against your ear, free hand sliding your ruined pants down your thighs. "but not until I'm done with you."

"Adam-"

"It’s been a fucking shitty day," he begins, a singular finger sliding between your folds and gathering the wetness that had gathered. You whine, straining against his hold on your neck. "and the one thing that’s gotten me through it is knowing I get to come home to this perfect piece of ass." He grins, feeling your pussy clench at the tip of his finger. "So I’m taking my fucking time with you."

A singular finger finally enters your swollen, aching, core, mouth falling open in a silent moan at the contact, finally. The sounds that echo around the room are obscene, wet and thick as his fingers curl, digging against that sweet spot inside of you. 

"You hear that, sweety?" Adam murmurs mockingly against your lips, the pet-name dripping with irony as he kisses down harshly, a kiss you could only hope to keep pace with, never mind reciprocate. "You fucking filthy girl." A second enters, easily, coated in your slick within seconds as he draws moans from your lungs. He leans back, watching you flush and gasp beneath his hands, fingers pulling non-comically at the fist he had around your neck. A third finger enters, and this time, he feels the stretch. 

"God, Adam-" You squeal, hips raising from the loveseat as he continues, the sinful sounds only getting louder and louder. You moan with every thrust of his fingers, hands gripping at the material of your shirts beneath you. You groans at the fiery pain in your walls, but your eyes roll at the pleasure that had started to build. 

"So fucking wet, and all it took was the thought of being with me. At least you know how lucky you are babe, fuck-" His grip tightens around your neck, a fourth finger entering, and you scream, or would have if you had the oxygen to. A pathetic choking wail comes from your throat, and you clench tighter around his digits, hips chasing his hand with every thrust. 

"I'm- I'm going to-" You sob as he picks up his pace, the sounds omitting from you downright sinful. Your thighs shake as your body goes rigid, mouth falling open in a silent scream.

Adam doesn't stop, eyes trained on his wife's face as you come undone beneath his fingers, hips jerking wildly as he thrusts and curls inside of you. It is only when your eyes flutter and legs fall slack that he stops, pulling his hand out from between your thighs with a sickening pop, fluid coating his hand and your inner thighs. 

You blink heavily, gasping for breath as you finally return to your surroundings, feeling devastatingly empty but more than satisfied. Adam barely gives you a moment before he’s kissing you deeply, teeth tugging at your swollen lips and a hand winding into your hair to tug your head exactly where he wanted you. He doesn’t break the kiss as he scoops you into his arms, your hands grasp at his neck and shoulders as he carries you towards the bedroom.

He throws you down roughly on the edge of the side of the bed, shucking off his robe, trousers and pants quickly, hard and weeping cock springing free, red and painful at the neglect, balls heavy and painfully sensitive. You wiggle out of your red skirt, kicking it onto the floor as Adam clambers over you, knees pressed against the mattress. He slides his hand along your inner thighs, which part without question, gathering the wetness that coated them. He pumps his cock lazily, once, twice, abs clenching as he breathes deeply. 

"I'm gonna fuck you so good you forget that cunts name.” He mutters more to himself, and it takes you a moment to realise who he was talking about. Ah, he hadn’t taken your comment about Lucifer earlier well. He never did. You can’t help but feel excited, as exhausted as you already were, Adam always got so competitive after a comment like that, and you always left the situation just as smug and satisfied as Adam felt. “Hope you haven’t got any important shit tomorrow, babe,” He comments, leaning over you and shrouding your smaller form with his large body, grinning down at you with a wickedness better suited to hell than heaven. “because it’ll be a miracle if you can walk.”

"You’re talking an awful lot." You comment, but your panting doesn’t give it the mocking you were hoping for. His wings flatten when your comment registers, and the golden feathers bristle as you continue. “You’ve yet to actually fuck me, I wonder if Lu-“

Without warning he thrusts forward, groaning hotly against your throat as his wings raise. You whine at the stretch, and your hands quickly burrow back into his wings as he bullies his way into you, forcing himself down to the hilt and not allowing you time to adjust. “Don’t you fucking dare say his name.” He hisses against your throat, biting at the skin harshly. He draws back, tip resting just inside your opening, and then surges forward, burying himself to the hilt, setting a brutal, staggering pace. You whimper in pain and pleasure at the abrupt pace, but fall into it as he thrusts, legs winding around his hips and anchoring him in place. 

Adam groans into your skin with every thrust, unabashed and unashamed, the wet warmth between your thighs melting away his worries. His fingers dig painfully into the divots of your hips.

"You're my girl, no one else’s, my fucking girl." He groans, balls slapping against your ass as he thrusts, seizing your thighs and pushing them up towards your chest, folding you in half and giving you no choice but to breath and take it. "Clearly I’ve not been doing my job if you’ve had time to think about him, don't worry baby, I'll fix that."

"Adam," You moan at the new angle, his cock hitting that special spot inside with every thrust, legs shaking with every thrust. "please, please, please, I don’t-"

"Fucking slut, begging for my cock." He punctuates his sentence with a particularly hard thrust that has you keening, back arching from the crumpled bedsheets. 

Suddenly, without warning, he pulls out completely and your high dissipates violently as you gasp and shoot upright, trying to tug him back down by his wings. "No, no, please-"

Large rough hands grab at your body as you are flipped around, hands scrambling for purchase and legs like jelly as you’re repositioned, locks falling into your face as Adam thrusts back in, hands gripping your hips as he pounds. 

"You wanna act like a slut?" He drills his cock into you from behind, large hand pushing at your tail bone to force your back to arch. You comply easily, and you’re rewarded with a fist grabbing at the globe of your ass and slamming you back towards him with painful force. "I'll fuck you like a slut."

A tender hand runs up the column of your spine and you shiver, gasping into a moan as he gathers your hair in one tight fist and yanks. 

"Oh! Oh Adam-"

Every slap of your ass with his hips has your head lurching back with the grip he has on your hair, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he thrusts, the harsh sound of slapping skin filling the room. 

"Adam, ‘s too much," Your moans cut your sentence short, fists gripping the bed sheets as he pounds relentlessly, scalp stinging and pussy aching at the unforgiving stretch. "Please, I can't-"

"You fucking can." He growls, releasing your hair and shoving your head forward with a hand at the back of your neck, leaning forward to place wet kisses at the centre of your spine as he thrusts down. "I’m not done with you, so you're gonna fucking take it."

You moan pathetically into the bed sheets, fingers curling into the fabric either side of your head as your pussy throbs, a familiar searing heat coiling in your abdomen and tingling along your spine.

"We’re not done until you get that you’re mine, my bitch, and no one else can give you this, understand?" His large hands anchor themselves at your waist as he thrusts impossibly harder, sweat beginning to bead down his chest and stomach. No doubt bruises would be left behind, the thought of your perfect flesh, your perfect ivory skin, marred by his fingerprints only drives him further, his balls beginning to tighten.

"I'm- I'm - wait!" Adam doesn't listen to his wife's pleas, supporting your shaking hips with his large hands as he fucks you into the mattress, grinning past his exertion at seeing your thighs begin to quiver. 

Your cracked voice mewls into the bedsheets as your second orgasm builds, panting pathetically as you brace yourself, tears of pleasure beginning to stream down your cheeks. 

"Good fucking girl." Adam groans, feeling his own orgasm build, cock twitching within your walls. "Does my bitch finally get it? Huh?” Your lack of response doesn’t please him, and one of his large hands slaps the globe of your ass painfully as he continues his brutal pace. ‘'you gonna take it?"

"Please!" You finally wail, pussy clenching at the sheer anger in his voice, and beneath all the brovado, the desperation to know he’s doing a good job. And by God he was doing a phenomenal job. "So fuckin’ good Adam. I’m yours- yours.” You choke into the mattress when you feel his grip tighten against your hips, his hips stuttering at the praise. “Don’t stop. Adam, please, please-"

You wail pathetically, second orgasm crashing over you as you convulses beneath Adam’s cock, toes curling, legs only propped up with his large hands as you cry. “So, f-fuck– good.”

"Fuck." Adam groans as his own orgasm hits, balls tightening as he thrusts again and again, jerking uncontrollably as he empties inside of you, pumping his hips desperately. You can feel the air around you shift as his wings twitch, flapping powerfully with the concentration he pours into his final few thrusts, impossibly deep and hard as his arms flex against your lax figure. "Ah." He grunts, thrusting once, twice, collapsing on top of his shaking wife, cock buried to the hilt. His sweaty forehead presses between your shoulder blades, breathing hotly against your damp skin as you breathes shakily beneath him, catching your own breath as the aftershocks of your orgasm course through you.

"Fuckin’ perfect." Adam mutters gruffly against your skin, kissing tenderly as he straightens, hands landing on the globe of your red ass, slowly pulling his cock from you with a hiss. He watches with dark eyes as his cum gathers at your entrance, pushing a small trickle back in with a slick finger, causing you to gasp in surprise. 

Large hands, far gentler than they had been mere moments ago, grasp your waist and manoeuvre you around, laying your panting frame back onto the edge of the bed. Adam leans down to kiss you sweetly, rough hands grabbing a thigh each and pulling them up towards your chest as he leans, tongue slipping into your mouth and licking into your cavern as he repositions, a soft sigh falling from your lips and your hands dangling leisurely from his broad shoulders. 

He pulls back from the kiss, and you watch him with hooded eyes, unaware of the position you had found herself in until a thick cock-head presses at your weeping entrance once again. You look up, still panting, and Adam cannot help but feel utterly devoted to the sight in front of him, cock twitching back to full capacity; your cheeks shining from the tears that had spilled, lips puckered and swollen and invitingly red from the way he had nipped at them, the smattering of bruises that decorated your neck and chest. You were truly a vision, not a holy one, but absolutely divine to him.

"Adam, wait - I can't." You whimper breathily, hips pulling away from his cock. Too sensitive, too raw. Despite your reservations, Adam can see the way you breathe in suspense, the way your fingers flex against the bedsheets in anticipation. Hell, you weren’t even trying to close your legs in his grasp. You really shouldn’t have mentioned Lucifer’s name if you didn’t want this. He was nowhere near done.

"No?" He questions sarcastically, hands still pinning your thighs to your chest, golden eyes staring deeply into your own. "Looks to me like you can still talk back, that won’t do babe." Hands still grasping your milky thighs, Adam leans down, grinning before pressing a soft kiss right against your clit. You jerk, a cry falling from your lips. "Come on, sugar, you’re really tapping out so soon?" He rubs his cock against your folds, his cum coating his own flared tip, and your pussy flutters around him; you hiss out a whine. "What a shitty husband I’d be if I left you wanting, and from the look of you, I know you’re not done." He rubs his cock against you again, balls gathering the cum that had dribbled from your opening. You look up at him fervently, and you can see the determination in his heated gaze, and oh how that look had your core tightening as he leant impossibly closer. "Is my wife really done? I think she can take one more, one more, for me." 

You groan as he enters again, slowly, cock dragging against your slicked walls, and a squelch emitting from your conjoined bodies as he finally bottoms out again. Your legs twitch in his hold, and he grinds his hips, fighting the urge to thrust. 

Your mouth hangs open silently, eyes fluttering at the stretch to your over-sensitive core. Your nails tear at his shoulders uselessly, trying to distract yourself from the all-consuming pleasure, and the delightful sting has Adam clenching his jaw as he tries to remain composed. You can hear the shuddering breath he takes as he fights his instincts, pulling back just as slowly as he had entered, until the weight of his cock presses just inside your opening, and then thrusts back in, setting a slow, steady, hard pace. 

He recaptures your lips in a searing kiss, biting at your lip until you allow him to snake his way inside, sucking the little air from your lungs as he pants into you, brows furrowed in concentration as he fucks into you with his hips and licks into your mouth hungrily. This time, he allows your hands to dig into his wings from the start, his own hands remaining perched on your thighs and pinning you down to take his harsh thrusts. He grunts when your fingertips delve back into the ruffled feathers, stretching them out beneath your touch and covering your body possessively beneath his larger frame. 

"S-Shit babe.” He groans between thrusts, pace increasing silently. You can do nothing but moan pathetically, pussy aching and throbbing as your fingers dig deeper into his wings, and his shoulders tense at the intense pleasure that sparks all along his spine. "Fucking careful.” He tries to battle back his control that had begun to slip, and decides insulting you would mask the way your simplest of touches nearly had him finishing then and there. “F-fucking whore." 

You simply groan, eyes rolled into the back of your head and hands blinding searching for purchase as that tight coil begins to wind in your abdomen, hips beginning to shift against his quickening thrusts. Your voice pitches and cracks as he pummels that special spot inside of you, and your hands clench into fists in his wings. "Oh God- Adam, right there, fuck – so fucking good."

“I know baby, I’m fucking good, I know.” He grits through clenched teeth, ever the egoist. Despite his parroting of the compliments as if they were simple facts, the compliments go straight to his head and his cock, and something in his chest tightens at the way you continue to babble his praises. 

A particularly hard thrust has you gasping. "Adam, you’re so- so-" You couldn’t finish the sentence, but he got the message, and nearly cums with his next thrust, biting into your collarbone to distract himself from the praise.

Adam groans, balls already beginning to tighten. He yanks you closer as you continue to beg, forcing you in half as he pounds into you, cum spilling from around his cock as he thrusts again and again, your thighs slick with it. 

"Adam, please." You pant, all air forced from your lungs as he drills into you over and over again, pussy struggling as Adam’s cum is forced from inside you to make room for his cock. "I'm all yours."

"Fuck, baby." He groans, balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. He releases your right thigh, free thumb pressing into your swollen clit and rubbing hard. "Cum for me, I know you've got one more. One more and I'll fucking fill you, one more."

You shriek at the pressure on your clit, head thrown back as your legs shake. Chanting 'yes, yes, Adam, fuck.' between wails.

"You can take it, 'fuckin' take it."

He swallows your scream with a kiss when you finally tip over the edge, your hips shaking against his own as your stomach erupts in a fiery jolt of pleasure that travels from the tips of your toes to your fingertips, back arching from the bedsheets. Adam swears against your lips, nails almost breaking the skin of your thighs as he cums, shoulders and wings tense as he humps tightly, burying himself to the hilt and pressing as much of his weight onto you as he could. 

"Fuck, there you go." He groans, thrusting lazily, pressing you into the bedsheets, all of his weight forced onto your hips. "There you go."

You moan pitifully as his cock fully burrows itself to its hilt, both hands coming up to cradle the back of Adam’s head and shoulders as he allows his full weight to rest on top of you, face pressed against the crook of your neck, soft lips gently mouthing against a blossoming hickey, hips finally ceasing their aborted thrusts. You wrap your legs loosely around his hips as his hands curl beneath you, resting flat against your spine and securing you in his embrace. You sigh at the new angle, finally able to breath fully, and relaxes into the sticky sheets below, allowing Adam to lick at the bruises covering your neck and chest.

"You okay, baby?" Adam mutters softly, voice still unusually deep and gravelly as he comes down from his high, warm palms sliding against your sticky skin in some semblance of comfort, blunt nails scratching a light comforting pattern against your skin. He lifts himself up lightly, still burrowed within, sweaty brunet locks falling across his face and tickling your forehead. 

"Never better." You grin, exhausted and blissed-out, a familiar ache beginning to settle deep within, but uncaring for the discomfort after seeing the poorly-masked worried devotion in your husband's eyes. "You’re amazing, you know."

"I know.” He hums cockily, and you swat at his arm playfully as he grins. “I supposed you aren’t half bad, too.” 

Your head tilts in mock-offence, but the exhaustion and complete and utter satisfaction cloaking your eyes has you looking seconds away from passing out, and he chuckles at the sight. He studies you for a moment, mapping the flush to your cheeks and chest, the fraying of your elegant hairdo, the wet streams on your cheeks and the puffiness of your lips. His eyes travel lower, following a stream of bruises that caress your ivory skin all the way down to where your bodies conjoin. His eyes flicker back up and he grins cheekily, unapologetic and somewhat proud. 

With a comforting pat to your thighs, Adam leans down for a far more tender kiss, grunting against you as he removes himself from you, dick falling free as he clambers up the bed and carefully tugs your spent body along with him, nestling you tightly into his side as his wings drape off both edges of the bed. He grunts, tugging you further onto his chest, and you giggle as you swing your arms around his chest and neck, cheek pressed against his shoulder and his own pressed against the top of your head, strong arms encircling your waist and pinning you close.

“I should rant to you more about my shitty days if you’re willing to cheer me up like this.” He grumbles to himself, eyes closed as he breathes deeply, and you feel the rumble of his chest beneath you. “I can feel you looking at me. Shut your mouth and enjoy the moment unless you want to piss me off again.” 

“I didn’t even piss you off in the first place,“ You defend, rolling your eyes playfully at him. “but if you fuck me like that when you’re angry I’ll have to get you angry more often.”

“You want to go again?” Adam questions deftly, the exhausted surprise yet underlying giddiness in his voice almost making you laugh, if not for the fact that you were utterly and completely spent. 

“No, no, I’m more than happy. I was going to say we should shower.” 

He ‘humphs’ like a child, heavy arms not moving as you try to wriggle away from his grasp to begin running the shower. “What’s the rush? Give me ten minutes.”

“We’re disgusting.”

“Five minutes.” He mutters, rightening his hold on your waist. “You never know, in those five minutes you might want to go again, and then we’d save having to wash ourselves again, save the water bill and all that shit, y’know?”

“You’re disgusting.” 

“You married me.” He backhands childishly, pulling you in closer to his chest. “So that we can be disgusting together. Now shush and stop talking, I was enjoying the moment.”

#I had to edit some of this one shot to make it MORE ACCEPTABLE #im sick I tell you #sick sick woman #im definitely not getting into heaven after writing this #Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Hotel adam #Hazbin Hotel Adam x reader #Hazbin Hotel Adam smut #Hazbin Hotel Adam x reader smut #Adam smut #Adam x reader #Adam x reader smut #smut #Hazbin Hotel lucifer #lucifer #Hazbin Hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel Adam x reader #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel #hazbin

[taintedcigs]

i slept with someone from corroded coffin and all i got was this stupid song written about me.

ROCKSTAR!FBOY!EDDIE X READER

summary: fooling around with a famous rockstar who's a notorious playboy sounds perfect on paper, until you catch feelings for him. that's why you decide to end things, to not get your feelings get hurt, and its all going perfectly, until eddie releases a song, written all about you.

warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising?, lovey dovey, kinda angst and arguments, drgs & alcohol mention, swearing? idk this is kinda cheesy n cute with a mix of fluff sprinkled honestly!

author's note: the indented parts are texts between steve and reader and thenn reader and eddie. they look confusing as fuck im sorry i just wanted to make them look unique but they look stupid. also yes. i patted myself in the back after i found this title (thank you fob). and yes the lyrics are inspired by i don't care im on a fob kick sue me! and ofc fboy!eddie isn't actually that much of a fboy bc if i can't write lovesick eddie ill die. this is super cheesy so i still struggled a lot but UGH. not proof-read ignore all mistakes

also credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts! (i changed them but still!) and @saradika for the dividers! pls like + rb + interact w me in anyway to support my writings!! ty!!

DINGUS sent you a spotify link. did you listen to this? yeah. its kinda romantic. no. the lyrics are insane. n all about u okay? are u at the party rn? yeah. u comin? soon he’s there too u already knew that, didn’t u?  false accusations r rude, steve.

You click your phone off with a groan, but he was right. You couldn’t stay away from him, and maybe, just maybe, this was your way of running into him, accidentally. 

Because ever since he released the song, the tabloids had gone crazy with it, half of the lyrics screamed you and all of the old headlines pointed at you, the mystery girl Eddie used to be seen with, and you really were growing tired of seeing your name next to “Munson’s new girl.” 

Because you weren’t his new girl, you weren’t his anything. He was a cocky asshole who was good with a guitar and was even better at fucking. And that was something both of you could relate to, the only thing you had in common with him. Or, so you thought. 

But of course, as with everything else, the things between you changed, you started staying over, he started staying over, and the two of you even went on fucking dates, disguising them under ‘we were just hungry, is all.’ 

You tried to keep up the cool girl act, like you could fuck someone and not catch feelings. Every inch of you itched not to care, to act like it was all fine, but it was all fucking bullshit, you cared, so fucking much that your chest ached. The more you got to know him, the more you fell for him, and the more you fell for him, the more you realized there was no fucking way this would work. 

Cocky rockstar who spent more time doing drugs than sleeping, with girls all over him? The imaginary red flag bells rang in your ear, even now. He wasn’t looking for a relationship and you knew that. That’s why you ended it two months ago. Or at least, you started ignoring him two months ago. 

Yet, he had been calling and texting you, wanting to meet up, drunken slurs of nonsense, gibberish voicemails, and yet you never answered, because if you did, you knew you’d be back to pathetically swooning over him.

Until today, just because of that stupid song, like it meant anything. That douchebag probably wrote songs about every girl he fucked. 

You weren’t special. 

Another ding sound from your phone almost startled you, the contact name made you groan even louder. “don’t FUCKING answer.” That didn’t mean shit. It was just something stupid to make you feel better that you couldn’t stay away from him, because you knew, deep down that if you really didn’t want him to contact you, you would’ve deleted his number, and blocked him. You were too chicken shit to do that, and still desperately wanted to hear from him. 

So you settled on that contact name. Like it made a difference, like it changed anything. 

DONT FUCKING ANSWER did you listen to the song?

Don’t fucking answer. The contact name should be enough to convince yourself that.

Too late.

                                                                   no. don’t lie to me, sweetheart.                                                                            why would i lie?

You sink into the couch, a much quieter corner of the party, not even bothering to socialize. Your brows furrow, index finger flying to your lips anxiously, as you chew on it to patiently wait for an answer.

You sip on your drink with a nervous gaze on your screen, barely noticing the way the couch sink further when someone else took a seat next to you. 

“Hi.” The gravelly voice pulls your attention away from the screen, making you set your drink aside as you look up, finding yourself face-to-face with him. 

Shaggy bangs cascade onto his forehead, and with your exaggeration, it looks longer than the last time you saw him. Black jeans cladded with chains. A graphic tee messily thrown over his heavily tatted chest, that you could still imagine right about now—pathetic. He looked just about the same, the deep dimple adorning his soft cheeks had seemed to disappear, wearing a scowl instead, that tiny voice in your head told you that was your doing, that maybe he was just as miserable as you. Maybe your feelings weren’t fully one-sided.  

Shit. 

“Eddie?” Squeaky, and annoying, you were sure that’s how your tone sounded, yet he didn’t seem to comment on it.

“‘m glad you remember my name, sweetheart,” he scoffs sarcastically, leaning further into the plush couch, elbow propped at the side, eyeing you with frustration. 

“W—what the hell are you doing here?” You stutter as if you weren’t expecting to run into him. Full of bullshit. 

“Did ya really think you could ignore me forever, huh?” He tilts his head slightly, almost expectedly, earning an eye roll from you. 

“I wasn’t ignoring yo—”

Eddie tuts quickly, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cuts through the ambient noise of the party, “I thought we said no more lies, huh?” 

With a huff, “Why are you here, Eddie?” you mumble.

“Am I not allowed to party?” He banters, brows slightly raised, making you huff out an exasperated breath, your eyes bore into him, almost to signal him ‘Take this seriously.’

“I wanted to know what you thought.” He shrugs like it was normal to just come running after everything just to know what you thought of the song. 

“The song?” He nods in confirmation.

“Didn’t like it,” you confess, avoiding his gaze, but your brows betray you, lifting ever so slightly.

He tsks, shutting you off quickly, “You see that little quirk your brow did? That only happens when you lie, you can’t help it. You do that when I ask you if you ate the last pizza slice, or when I ask if you watched the next episode of the show we were supposed to watch together, or when you—” 

“Fine, fine! I liked it,” you groan, interrupting him and suddenly standing up from the comfort of the couch, being so face-to-face with him immediately making your nerves bubble.

“Just liked?” He tilts his head slightly, a smirk curving on his lips. 

A deep sigh of breath, “what do you want, Munson?”

He stands up with you, making you back away from him with a heavy footstep, the entire party was too loud and crowded, yet, in this stupid corner, it was just the two of you. “For you to admit that you loooved the song, and how much you missed me,” he sing-songs, taking a step closer to you, musky smell invading your senses, making you take a deep breath.

Both of you stand near the wall, and it should be awkward, it should be enough to make you leave, but all it does is draw you closer to him.

“You’re annoying.” 

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I wasn’t avoiding—” He tuts, with his stupid index finger up, rejecting your lie.

“I—I don’t know what you expected.” You shrug, so nonchalantly that his gaze narrows, chest aching with the implications of your words.

“We both knew this wouldn’t last forever, didn’t we?” You chew the inside of your lip to stop those tears that had been begging to flow ever since you listened to the song, wiping off that smirk on Eddie’s lips. 

“Would’ve been nice if I got a reminder, and not have been just fully ghosted, huh?” The brunette grumbles with a downturn of his lips, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Oh, don’t act all high and mighty, isn’t that what you do all the fucking time?” you snap, gaze narrowed, and arms crossed against your chest. 

“Fuck girls and then leave them? Did it crush your ego this fucking much that I did before you could?” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” He retaliates. 

“It means I was smart enough to pull myself away from your bullshit,” you rasp, disdain written all over your face.The room seems to shrink as the distance between you decreases. 

Another step closer to you, and you didn’t realize your back had hit the wall now. “My bullshit? God, that’s fucking rich, if I seem to recall correctly sweetheart, you were in this as much as I fucking was!”

“Oh, was I?” You bark out a chuckle, cruel, mocking, “I don’t remember being okay with you fucking half the city.” Realization of how bitter and jealous that sounds, dawns on you much later than the words leave your lips, and thankfully, Eddie’s too fucking immersed to realize the double meaning of your words. 

“Are you fucking kidding? No strings attached! Non-exclusive! That’s what you fuckin’ signed up for!” His voice echoes, mirroring his frustration, and you open your mouth.

But he doesn’t let you speak further, cutting you off sharply. “Is this all because of that new guy you’re seein’?” 

“What? What guy?” 

“The one who was all over you earlier,” he bites out, jaw clenched, and you can almost taste his bitterness in the air.  

“The same one you fucked at Jeff’s party.”

“Are you stalking me, Munson?” 

“Did you just want an excuse to end things? Are the two of you serious or somethin’?” His voice wavered between anger and desperation, gaze pathetically searching for yours, to gauge your reaction.

You scoff. Did he really think you’d end things because of a stupid fling you had which in the first place occurred just so you could forget him? He was so goddamn clueless it drove you insane. 

But what you didn’t realize was that you were just as clueless, if not more, because why would he write a song all about you, if this was just about sex? Because who would get so jealous of someone they didn’t care about? 

Say my name and his in the same breath.

I dare you to say they taste the same. 

The lyrics from his stupid song swirled your thoughts, yet you were still too stupid to see it, weren’t you?

Another step closer to you, a dangerous game the two of you liked to play. He smelled alluring, a fucked up mix of nicotine, his musky cologne, and that damn leather jacket. “Do you really think, he could compare to me, sweetheart?” 

Say my name and his in the same breath.

“Tell me he’s fucking better, and he’s actually what you want, and I’ll fucking leave, I’ll bury all the other songs I wrote, tell me, and I’ll be out of your hair forever.”

I dare you to say they taste the same. 

And just like that, all the defenses you put up, all the times you ignored him, they are cracked, disappearing into thin air. You hate it, you hate that he has this effect on you, you can feel your mind getting hazier, eyes blinking rapidly to process what the fuck is going on, and his face is mere inches away from yours. You knew their names didn’t taste the same. And you knew he could never ever compare to Eddie.

“Tell me,” he encourages, dares you to. You fail to notice how much emotion his gaze carries, how the corners of his lips twitch, just at the thought of you finally admitting you don’t want him. His stomach turns at the thought, this is his last chance, he knows that, and he can’t fucking lose you. He can’t. 

And you don’t know any of that, but you knew, know that no one else could compare to him. And you hate yourself for thinking that, you hate yourself for falling for him, the world stops rotating on its axis when he’s in your peripheral vision, and it’s fucking disgusting. Pathetic. Stupid. Because you know the two of you have no chance. But here you are. 

“H—he is b—” Of course, your brow quirks up almost immediately, betraying you quicker than you can even attempt to lie. 

That dawning smirk appears on his lips again, it’s mocking, and just as much smug. You want to wipe it off of his stupidly pretty face. “Tell me,” he dares you, again. This time much cockier and confident, and you suddenly realize how small you feel under him.

“He isn’t,” your meek voice is barely audible.

And you don’t register the shaky breath he draws when the words leave your lips, giving him the confirmation he needs. You wanted him, he had no fucking clue why you ghosted him, yet you still wanted him. Just as much as he wanted you. 

Both of his hands were placed on the wall now, towering over you, making your breath get caught up in your throat. “Speak up.”

“No, fuck! You know he’s not, you know he could never fucking compare to you, you fucking know tha—” He shuts you up with a rough kiss, lips pressed against yours messily, letting the petty comments die down your throat. Because this is all he wanted, needed to hear anyway. 

“Up,” he grunts into the kiss, tapping your thighs, hoisting you up from your waist to help you wrap your legs around him, tight, he wants you at his mercy, locked to him. 

You wrap your legs around him, barely, the melty sensation in your knees making you so shaky that he barks out a laugh into your lips, holding you close, firm, the butterflies in your stomach traveling all across your body.

He lifts you up as if you are weightless, arms wrapped around you strongly as he carries you to the nearest empty bedroom, impressively without hitting your back anywhere, so roughly that your core throbs at the feeling of his arms around you.

“Baby,” he mutters as he lowers you down on the bed swiftly, smooth, gaze darkened and pupils blown wide, all the pent up desire waiting to explode. 

“Eddie,” you beg, shaky voice sounding purely angelic to his ears once he got rid of his shirt, shrugging it off with a huff, his fingertips grazing against your top, feeling your hardened nipples, causing gasps out of you, he’s quick to pull it over your head while you run your fingers up the grooves of his stomach, the tip of your fingertips almost burns everywhere you touch. 

He groans at the sight of your bare breasts, “missed thi-you,” he corrects himself, because that’s all he wanted anyways, you. 

He nips at your nipples, tongue good at giving attention to both of them, all wet and warm, making you squirm under his touch, you’re quick to get rid of everything else, leaving you in your panties, making him grunt. 

The pad of his thumb rubs against your left nipple, leaving goosebumps in its wake, while his other hand travels down your chest, then your stomach, finally drawing circles when it stops between your thighs, ghosting over your panties before he tugs them down your legs, spreading them apart with a slight hum, pupils blown so wide that you can’t admire those chocolate hues anymore. 

He visually drinks in that sight of you, laid down on the couch, eyes squeezed shut, back arched, and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re completely at his mercy and his chest aches with need. “So pretty like this f’me,” he coos into your chest, pushing his middle finger inside of you. Making you feel so good that you can’t stop the gasps coming out of your lips.   

Pleasure shivers through everywhere he sucks and touches, his finger eases into you when he adds another one, a moan escaping you quickly. “Need to be in here, sweetheart, d’ya have any idea how much I missed this?” 

You don’t. You don’t know about the sleepless nights, the drunken ones, the drug-induced ones in an attempt to recreate the high you gave him. It’s fucked up, it’s insanely toxic. Yet, he can’t get enough of you. 

His gaze upon you is dangerous, maybe it’s because he had missed you so goddamn much, or maybe because he didn’t know where this would lead, but it felt fucking sentimental, different somehow, and he could feel you, everywhere on his skin.

Your hips start rocking up against him when the pad of his thumb flicks over your clit, making you arch your back, whines, mumbles leaving your lips. And all he can muster is, “so goddamn beautiful, look at you whining for me.”

You can feel his bulge rub against your thigh every now and then, it’s distracting, almost agonizing. You desperately need it inside of you, you had missed him, missed his touch, missed the feeling of him filling you to the brim, you missed seeing his face contort in pleasure when he was inside of you, you wanted him to never forget you again. 

That’s why you feel so numb, can barely speak, and of course, Eddie notices, how unusually quiet you are, and he wants to make this unforgettable, just so you have another reason to come back to him. Just so you don’t leave him, just so you stay forever. 

“Gone too quiet on me, honey, tell me what you need,” he coos down at you, thumb still caressing your pussy, and all you can fucking do is chew down on your bottom lips, eyeing his bulge that was begging to get out. And he barks out a goddamn chuckle, “P—please, Eddie.” Pathetically leaves your lips. 

And normally he would make you beg, tease further, but he reaches to tug down his pants quickly, because fuck, he had missed you. And he can’t bear the thought of not being inside of you any longer. 

Thinking is not your strongest suit right now either, your brain is mushy, all the nights and days spent thinking about him, about this explodes into your body. Your pussy aches when you finally see his cock again, a sound of need leaving your lips as you eye his length, so big that pleasure ripples through you, especially when you see his gushy tip, glistening with pre-cum. 

You want every fucking inch inside of you, and Eddie’s more than ready to oblige, “What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

“Need you, Eddie,” you moan, all fucked out, his fingers slip in and out of you still, but it isn’t enough for him. He needs more, he craves your validation like he never has before. 

“God, you’re soakin’ my fingers, princess,” he grunts, wedging himself between your thighs, weeping cock drips onto your inner thighs, making you moan breathlessly. “Tell me exactly what you fuckin’ want, honey.”

“Eddie.” His name sounds like silk, even when it’s so lewd, Eddie decides, and it makes him let out an impatient huff. “P—please. Need you to fuck me.” It’s so goddamn desperate that you can feel heat rise to your cheeks, but it’s everything to him.

“Want you to fuck me like you mean it.”

“Oh, that’s easy, sweetheart,” he grunts, lining his cock through your entrance, coating himself in your slick, enjoying your mewls before he doesn’t hesitate to push his cock inside of you, inch by inch, relishing the way you cry out for him. 

Greedily, you rock your hips into him, making him let out a frustrated groan. “Have no fuckin’ idea how much I missed this greedy cunt, sweetheart, shit.” He thrusts in a few more inches, and breathless moans and babbles of his name fill the air.

“Suckin’ me right in, baby, fuck, you’re so pretty like this, mhmm.” His cock moves inside of you, and your hands are wrapped around his back, desperately clawing at it, the fullness making you want more, “you like that, baby, like bein’ full of me?” A heavy sound leaves his lips, pathetic and you pulse around him. 

“S’so good Eddie, and s’big,” you barely manage to let out, and he watches you with that burning amber gaze, thrusting all the way in without hesitation. Those plushy lips that hang open, that filthy mouth, the prettiest fucking features—you, were going to be the death of him. 

Maybe it’s because you had missed him, or maybe because you hadn’t experienced this in a long time, or fuck, maybe, just maybe that the song had created a new type of need between the two of you. Using sex as a sort of connection that the both of you desperately needed. But, shit, was it this different this time. 

He felt different—his lips, touch, skin as it slapped against yours, it was different. 

Full. You feel so fucking full that your back involuntarily arches against him, fingers clenching desperately, your screams and cries filling the room the more he plunges inside of you, deeper, hungry, and just as greedy as you. 

“Yeah, better than that asshole?” It rolls off his lips so bitter and jealous that you can barely register it. Not being used to this possessive side of him, and it’s glorious, especially when he’s pounding his frustrations and insecurities into you. 

“Mhmm, so much better.” You clawed at his back, every thrust of his hip making you feel higher and higher, mind filled with nothing but him. 

“So pretty like this when you say my name, sweetheart… so goddamn beautiful, and all mine, yea?” He wants a confirmation, and wants to hear you say it, his head ducking between your breasts again to kiss, taste, suckle them. Make sure he never forgets it. 

“Wanna hear you say it.” He hums, the vibrations reverberating through your chest straight into your core, cock plowed so deep inside of you that you can barely speak through your cries, hitting that sweet spot that every other asshole misses. 

You’re too scared to give him what he wants. But you feel him, everywhere, and you still want more, of course, you’re his. That’s all you fucking wanted anyway. Plushy lips shake as you gaze up at him, his amber hues are so sticky-sweet that you still struggle to process it, words come out in a ramble “All yours, Eddie.”

His mouth crashes onto yours roughly, desire coursing through both of your bodies, almost interconnected. “Shit, fuckin’ hell sweetheart, ‘m not gonna last long.” His thrusts are getting sloppier, yet you feel the ravaging desire coursing through your veins. 

“So perfect,” he murmurs, the kiss he lays on your lips just as relentless, not letting you breathe or think for a goddamn second, you’re so goddamn close.

And you wonder, how the fuck did you even go two months without this? Without him?

“Eddie!” You cry out once you feel the pad of his thumb rubbing against your clit, eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm washes over you. Pure bliss overtakes you while you claw at his back, his body tenses, and cock flexes as he cums inside of you, groans and curses left in your hair. 

Minutes pass of you lying next to each other, breathless, processing everything that just transpired. And you should feel guilty, embarrassed, and should run to the hills for doing this with him again. 

But you’re obsessed, addicted. He’s like an excitement that you’re sure you’ve never felt before, running through your veins, like a fucking drug. 

Both of you get dressed in silence, the party booming outside is quick to bring the two of you back to reality, and out of the trance that he pulled you in. 

He breaks your bewilderment with a slight “Fuck.” Standing on the opposite side of the bed before he fully turns to you. “This wasn’t—I was supposed to talk to you.” He mutters, fingertips anxiously running through his tousled hair.

Caught off guard and awfully curious, you mumble, “About what?”

“The song…”

“I told you I liked it.”

His brow furrows deeper, and he shakes his head in frustration. “No, that’s not it—uh, did you not listen to the lyrics?”

“I did.”

“And?”

Your face searches his for some clarity, you take a step closer to him, the distance between the two of you was still awfully much according to him. “What are you asking of me, Eddie? Did you really think one song would just solve everything?”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“W—what am I supposed to get Eddie? You wanna have your cake and eat it too! And I just can’t fucking do that, not anymore.”

“That’s—that’s not it!” His voice wavers, with urgency, and desperation in his tone. He takes a step forward, attempting to bridge the emotional gap, feeling so fucking frustrated that he wants to rip his hair out.

“Then fucking explain it to me!” You plead. 

“You want an explanation, fine! Fucking fine!” His frustration echoed through the room, pacing back and forth, making you take a deep breath. 

Was he… actually gonna do this? 

“You wanna know what the fuck I’ve been doing ever since you ghosted me?” He ran a hand through his hair, scared, gaze all mellow and vulnerable in a way you have never seen before. It makes your shoulders slump when you nod. 

“I go to those stupid Hollywood parties, meet asshole rockstars—the most interesting shit, yet somehow someway the thought of you will pop up in my mind, uncalled for, might I add, and then I can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop thinking about you the whole fucking day.” Your eyes widen, trying to absorb his revelation, yet he won’t stop rambling and you feel your chest tighten with each word, fuck, he’s finally doing it.

“I—I never—shit! I never thought myself capable of feeling things like this, but fuck, you came along, with that goddamn smile, throwing a manicured middle finger right in my face, a—and just put up with my bullshit.” His voice softened, and he couldn’t help but trace the contours of your face, to desperately know if you were on the same boat, and you look at him with such glistened eyes that his heart leaps to his stomach. 

“My world flipped upside down, and you have proven me, so goddamn wrong that I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore!” The tears almost welled in your eyes, because, fuck, there was no way this was real.  

You reached out instinctively, the corner of your mouth twitching uncontrollably. “E—Eddie, please… please stop saying things you don’t fucking mean.” 

“Things I don’t mean?” He gives you a breathy chuckle, ironic, and nowhere near funny. His eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. “Do you think I like feeling whatever the hell this is? I fucking don’t, you have me acting like someone I’m so unfamiliar with, to the point where it scares me. All I can think about is you, you, you, because you occupy every single space of my mind.” Your eyes soften, the room seemingly pulsing with his emotions, making you feel hot everywhere on your body. 

He felt the same way.

Eddie felt the same way. 

“B—but fuck I’m scared, honey, I’m so goddamn scared,” He admits, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the tension before he’s at your side, calloused hands grabbing you by the shoulder, so softly that you melt into him.

“Because what if—what if all of this comes crashing down one day?” His voice trembles, gaze avoiding yours, he was scared, so goddamn scared of losing you. Forever. He doesn’t want that, he couldn’t afford that. 

“Just two months away from you fucking sucked. I didn’t—I don’t wanna feel these things, but you make it so hard not to.”  His forehead rests against yours, making you suck in a deep breath, it’s all so fucking sentimental, and all you wanna do this kiss him, tell him you feel the exact same way. Tell him about your fears. 

“And now I can’t fucking stop, fuck,” He confesses, admission punctuated by a frustrated sigh. 

“I wrote you a song,” he gently caresses your cheek, and you’re so scared to look up at him, to meet his tender gaze, because you know you can’t hold yourself back. 

“I came over to this party in a frenzy when I found out you’d be here,” he continued, his fingers tracing a delicate pattern along your jawline. “I—I just I haven’t even been able to touch another girl.” Your eyes snap open, you’re sure they’re almost heart-shaped now, with the adoration you look at him.

“And, do you actually fucking think I'd write songs for just anyone—” His question lingers in the air before you shut him up with a kiss, rough, sweet, and making Eddie feel dizzy all over, his head struggles to comprehend it all, breathless but he manages to react just in time.

The booming music becoming a mere background noise when he had you, mind swirling with all the possibilities and mouth begging to never stop tasting you. He wants to let you completely engulf him, feel you everywhere.

Everything he wanted and more.

He fucking hates himself for doing this, but he pulls away, mesmerized, eyes so wide that you can’t believe this is Eddie, he’s all flustered, salmon pink. And it makes a wider grin sit on your lips. “So… you—uh, what does this mean?”

You smile at him, lips widely stretching into a grin, as you shrug. “It means I feel the same, Eddie.” you admit, tone a tender reassurance. “That’s why I tried to shut you out… to try to move on, because I was scared—fuck, but I feel the same way.”

“So, does that mean we're dating now?”

“We can take things slow, figure everything out?” you mutter with a shy gaze, lips itching to twitch into a smile, again. “But I—uh—I like you, I really, really like you.”

“Gone soft on me already, sweetheart?” he mumbles with a stupid grin, making you elbow him softly, with an exaggerated playful huff. 

He’s quick to flinch, rubbing his arm as if you even delivered a powerful blow. “Ow—what the hell is wrong with you?”

“You think I’m going soft? You’re the one who wrote his feelings as an exaggerated love song!” 

He leans further slightly, his grin widening when you gave him those adorable eyes, finding you both equally amusing and endearing. “Oh… just you wait.”

You arched a brow, curiosity piqued, “What the hell does that mean?”

“The album is coming out soon, sweetheart. If you think this was an exaggeration, you should hear the whole fucking thing.”

That glint re-appears in your eyes just as quickly, gaze softening as you melt into his embrace.

“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.” You tease, scrunching your nose at him, so adorably that he leans down and presses a gentle kiss onto your hair.

He's an idiot, a total complete fucking idiot, but he's all yours.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson

[kissitbttr]

cake testing with miguel for the wedding!

a/n: featuring a very possessive miguel

continuation from this!

—

it has been one of your favorite wedding plans that you always look forward to. When your best friend got married, she took you with her to help her choose which one was the best. The caterer brought six classic flavors and both of your eyes twinkled with excitement. The same goes for your best friend. You and her almost demolished that one special raspberry lemon cake with her, since both of you have a sweet spot for fresh fruits.

You could guess which one ended up at the wedding reception.

And now, getting to do it with your soon to be husband, Miguel, just seems like a dream come true.

"So, Darla isn't gonna be with us since she's got errands to run, her assistant is going to replace her today." You inform your fiancee as he drives.

He squeezes your thigh with his hand as an answer, focusing his eyes on the road. You look up from your phone to watch him drive. A smile graces upon your lips as you think how good he looks while doing it. Furrowed eyebrows in concentration, a small pout on his lips with one hand on the wheel.

Fuck, he looks absolutely delicious.

Miguel senses your gaze on him, causing him to glance at you for a second before a grin spreads across his handsome face.

"What?"

You shrug. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Look sexy while driving"

He snorts out a laugh before making a turn. "I don't"

it's your turn to snort as you shake your head. "Humbleness is good. But God you're a liar."

"Ah, si? But you do love me, no?"

"Unfortunately" You answer, causing him to pinch the inside of your thigh making you giggle. "If we're not on our way to the boutique, I would hop on that dick right now"

He groans at that, eyes shutting briefly as the thoughts of you riding him in the car fill his mind. And seeing the seductive smirk on your face and how divine you look in that white sundress, it's already hard enough.

''Just say the word and I'll pull over mami." He's dead serious. You could see his hand gripping tightly around the wheel.

"And be late? No can do. Plus, I dressed really nicely for today and I do not want to ruin that."

"We can be quick" He tries again, smirking at you. "20 minutes top."

"Knowing you, it could never be 20 minutes. An hour and a half maybe." You point out, re-applying the gloss on your lips before smacking it. "And that's why I'm always late to work"

"You're killing me here, Y/N." He sighs loudly, pulling over to where the boutique is. "I never hear you complain about you being late when my cock is buried deep in your pussy, anyway."

You feign an offensive look as you slowly turn your head at him, shooting a soft glare. "Excuse me? What happened to getting rid of the first-name basis?!"

Yes. You made it clear from the start of the relationship that you refuse to be called by your first name anymore. It simply just won't cut it. You made sure to give him hell every time he called you that, even if he had done it by accident. Miguel was silently pulling his hair because you can be quite mean about that. Though he won't admit how you driving him insane is sexy. Like, really, fucking sexy.

it's a turn-on for him at this point.

"Shit, my bad" He parks the car as you both get ready to walk out. "Sorry baby." He leans over to peck your lips with his hand still on your thigh. The action makes you smile.

“That’s better”

Miguel gets out first, not allowing you both to walk out at the same time because he wants to be the one who opens the car door for you. Despite you telling him that you're perfectly capable of doing that by yourself, he argues with the fact that gentlemen always open doors for their women. Your heart does a somersault every time. It never goes away.

"Got everything, mi amor?" He asks as he extends his hand which you take, before shutting the door. You nod at him, and the two of you walk into the boutique hand in hand. "Dios... You look so good right now, I might just have to fuck you out here"

You gasp at that, slapping him in the chest, earning a low chuckle from him. "Easy there, tiger. I'm not going anywhere" You scold him but secretly love it when his filter's off

“How can i take it easy when your… Girls look so inviting?” His eyes glances at your breasts being pushed up by the cups of your dress, gulping at the sight. “They want me to play with them” A pout on his lips making your heart melt.

“Ugh, Miggy! please do not call them girls” You whine, shaking your head. “I thought we agreed on ‘tits’? Just tits.”

“Alright, alright fine… You’re no fun sometimes” He jokes, kissing your cheek. “Now, is this it?”

You nod, pushing your sunglasses up to the top of your head. “Darla said we can just walk right in.”

Miguel opens the door before allowing you to walk in first as he follows from behind. Red orbs scanning over the interior of the shop. It’s pretty. Lots of flowers in each corner, the paint is mostly pink and white.

“So is this where you and Darla had done the cake testing?” He asks, hand snaking around your waist.

“Yes! It’s so beautiful isn’t it? It’s like something coming out of fairytale or that ‘Enchanted’ movie we watched the other day. Darla really did amazing with this one. Though i did advice her to fix up the ceilings a bit and enhance the structure on that specific corner there.” You point with your manicured finger. “I offered to redesign and oversee the construction more. Just to help her a bit.”

He hums, squeezing your waist before planting a kiss on top of your head. “Look at you go… My little architect” He mumbles softly.

There’s no doubt on his mind that he’s proud of you. He loves seeing you work and help your friends who are in need. And that smart little brain of your is one of the things that made him fall in love with you in the first time. Jess had introduced you to him one time when he was scouting for a new architect to remodel the Spider Society’s HQ.

He was definitely entranced by your beauty when he saw you walked into his office with Jess by your side. You looked so sophisticated and elegant with glasses and the dress you had on that time. Long hair fixed into a messy bun as you shot him a smile before saying your name.

From that moment on, he was hooked. And made it his mission to make you his.

“Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. O’Hara?” Both of your ears perk at the sound of someone calling your names. You see a man, who’s probably in his late 20s emerging from the back with a smile. No doubt about it that he is quite handsome.

“Hi there! How are you? My name is Cameron, i’m Darla’s assistant. And my my, Darla didn’t say anything about her client being beautiful.” He chuckles as he lets out the joke. “She said you are stopping by for the cakes?” He flashes his toothy smile at you, and only at you.

Miguel frowns, at that. That doesn’t seem professional now, does it?

You choose to ignore that comment before smiling. “Yes, we are actually! I mean, I’ve done it with Darla about two weeks ago but my fiancé haven’t. So I’m bringing him, so he can taste it for himself.” Your hand squeezing your lover’s arm that is still settled around your waist.

The man nods, smiling as his eyes aren’t leaving yours which makes Miguel even more uneasy. And the way he looks at you from head to toe makes his blood boil.

He knows how men think, and he thinks. No, he knows that this asshole is basically undressing you with his eyes.

But Miguel is not the type create a confrontation. At least not anymore now that he’s with you. So he might’ve to push those feelings aside because he knows how much this means to you.

“Well step right here, I’ve prepared it all just for you, Ms. Y/L/N” He winks, gesturing you to follow him to where the cakes have been displayed.

Is he fucking serious?! Miguel thinks.

“So 6 different flavors, yes? Chocolate Lava, Lemon Raspberry, Strawberry Champagne, Red Velvet, Hazelnut Praline, aaand Hawaiian. That one is vegan” He checks off the last one on the list. “Customer’s favorite always been the Praline or Lemon Raspberry. You look like you deserve the latter. The best reserved only for the prettiest”

Again, you ignore his comment. “Oh well i tasted the Strawberry Champagne and it was amazing. But I’m leaving it to my fiancé here, so he can choose” You look up to him and notice there’s a slight frown on his face. “Baby?”

Miguel regains his composure when you call him, snapping him out of the thoughts of him killing Cameron in his mind. “Oh. Yeah yeah. Sure. You know my taste buds don’t matter just as long my woman is happy”

He makes sure to emphasize the words ‘my woman’ just so the guy can get the picture but he doesn’t seem too bothered by it.

“Well, we’re in this together so your taste does matter, as well.” You’re completely oblivious with the soft glare that Miguel throws at Cameron’s direction. Hands softly picking the forks from the table to cut a piece,

“Here. Let’s try the Chocolate—“

“Why don’t you feed it to me, mi amor?” He asks, looking at you with a smile. “One fork for two.”

If he can’t be violent then he’s got to find a way to make sure that this Cameron fellow understands that you’re fucking off limits.

You raise an eyebrow at the suggestion. “Sure, papi” You mirror his expression before cutting the cake, lifting it to feed him,

He takes a bite. Eyes dead set on the man who stands awkwardly from across, gaze looking anywhere but him.

“Hm” He nods. “That one’s good. Dark chocolate is it?”

“Right?” You ask cheerily. “Darla is amazing, i swear i need them all 6.” As you turn to fees yourself with the chocolate cake.

He shrugs, wiping a bit of the frosting from the corner of his mouth. “You’re the bride baby, you can have all 6 for the wedding, i don’t mind. I got the money for it anyway.”

You smile at him, kissing his jaw. “I love you, but we can’t be too greedy now can we?” A giggle escape your lips.

Oh he knows. He just wanted to make sure that son of a bitch gets it through his thick fucking skull that you’re his.

The two of you continue to feed each other’s cakes— more like you feeding it to him to be honest— rating each and every single one. Making sure to put a mental note on whichever you prefer before coming back next week and pick one.

Miguel glances at Cameron every now and then and watches how he stays quiet for the rest of it, letting you and Miguel do your thing. Probably too scared after seeing the intimidating look on his face.

“Gotta say, Strawberry Champagne and Chocolate one are amazing.” Miguel points, rolling the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. “You sure have a great taste, cariño. Confío en ti con todo.”

“Gracias, mi corazón” you put down the fork back on the table, smiling up at Cameron. “That’d be all i guess, yeah? But i think we’ll be back next week to pick one for sure. Will Darla be here?”

“She hasn’t said anything about it but uh, i-i’ll make sure” He stutters a bit, smiling nervously and trying to avoid Miguel’s death stare.

“Okay then. Well, thank you, Cameron for assisting us today. We have to get going now, still have a lot to work on” You offer a polite smile to his direction. “Shall we get going?”

Miguel nods, eyes still fixated on Cameron. “Yeah sure. But uh.. Can you wait for me by the car? I just need a few words regarding with the cakes with Cameron”

He’s not letting this off easy.

You watch how his eyes trained to the young employee, scrunching your brows as Miguel turns to look at you with a soft gaze. “It’ll be just a minute, baby.” He presses a reassuring kiss on your temple,

“Okay” You nod, smiling softly. waving a hand at Cameron before walking towards the exit. Soon as you’re out of their sight, Miguel turns his gaze back on Cameron. The young man looks like he’s about to piss in his pants.

The two stands in silence for a while as Miguel looks at him up and down.

“You ever gotten your ass kicked, Cameron?”

The question throws him off guard. Eyes widening while his mouth hangs open.

“S-sir?”

“It’s a question. Yes or no.”

“Well uhm, n-no sir” Cameron shakes his head. “Wha-“

“You do know that me and my girl came as a couple, yes? Or are you fucking blind?” Miguel’s eyebrow raises at him, arms crossed over his chest.

“I see that, Mr. O’Hara. I-i didn’t— I’m sorr-“

“You flirt with every customers? With their soon to be bride? Or is it just my woman you’re after?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth.

“N-no, Mr. O’Hara.”

“No as in what?”

“J-just her, i-i mean your woman.” He nervously confesses,

Miguel lets out a dry chuckle. “Let’s get one fucking thing straight, kid.” He leans forward, balling his fists before resting them on the table

“If you ever flirt with her, look at her or hell, if you even think about her when we come back next week, i will make sure no one remember how you look. And trust me when i say that this is not a threat but it’s a promise. Understood?” His voice laced with venom as he points his finger at Cameron’s chest who gulps,

Nodding quickly, he answers. “Understood.”

“Very well” Miguel retreats, taking a bottle of water from the table. “Stay away from my wife”

With that he walks out of the boutique, breathing out a heavy sigh, unscrewing the bottle cap before taking a gulp.

“How’s the interrogation goes?” You speak up with a playful smirk. “Did you manage to make him piss?”

He looks at you as he walks towards the car, shrugging. “I don’t know what you’re talking about” He replies.

Rolling your eyes, you cross your arms. “I saw you, papi. You almost kill the kid.”

“Again, i don’t know what you’re talking about.” He smiles innocently, both arms snaking around your waist to pull you close. Seems like a good kid. So i didn’t say anything”

A laugh escapes from your lips, one that he loves most—besides your perfect moans— “I know you, O’Hara. Like i said, a bad liar.”

“Alright fine, you caught me” He holds his hands up in defense. “He’s lucky i didn’t punch him.”

“That would be a sight for sore eyes.” You tease. “You know there’s nothing to be afraid of, right? Ain’t any other man could possibly steal my heart like you did three years ago.”

“Yeah well maybe if you stopped looking so fucking beautiful with your big pretty eyes and soft pouty mouth, then maybe men wouldn’t try to chase you off and i wouldn’t have 50+ competitions” He complains. But in reality he doesn’t mind.

“Oh excuse me, Mr? You don’t think i got one too?” You ask him through your lashes since his physique is towering you. “I had to put your ex back in her place at the Gala we attended three months ago, you remember? Slimy bitch.”

He laughs hard at that, head shaking at the memory of you confronting Dana was truly one of the unforgettable moments he has of you. “So, what’s next on the agenda?”

You look back at your phone before replying, “Seating arrangements on 112th street. Now this, we can use that 20 minutes up for something else since they’re running late.”

Miguel’s eyes harden as your finger running up and down his chest. “You mean—“

“Offer still stands. Want me to ride you while we wait?” You chew on your lower lip, gazing up at him and giving him your best doe eyes.

“Baby, if i ever said no to that question… Please feel free to grab my gun under my desk and shoot me in the head” He states, making you laugh as you throw your head back.

-

This feels like shit :/ I’m sorry but i need to clear out a few WIPs in my drafts

Though i still hope you all like it!

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara blurbs #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara imagines

[komelrebi-san]

gojo satoru is such a dilf, oh lord

oh no, i'm so whipped for this guy i think i might be mentally insane because how does he have the ability to make me so delusional can someone get me a gojo where can i get a gojo

tw: MDNI!, age gap, single-handsome-neighbour trope, gojo is a rich single dad and his daughter is so damn cute, dom! gojo, fingering, slight choking, drinking, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap kiddos!!), size kink, tummy bulge, daddy+mommy dynamics, oral f! receiving, praise kink, semi-public sex (idk if it counts??), lmk if there's more!

don't like, don't read.

a/n: oops, sorry this was accidentally a bit longer than i thought it would be lmfao. pls comment/dm if you want this to be made into a full oneshot!

you, fresh out of college and just landed a well-paying job, managed to afford a house in a newly built expensive condominium. the apartment next door was uninhabited, as far as you knew. though, you were told otherwise when a little girl tugged on your hand as you walked by the playground in your condo, saying that she didn't know where her daddy was.

perhaps, for a second, you'd cursed to yourself at how careless and heartless the parent must be to have neglected their own child, especially a child as cute as this one! her hair was white as snow, shining gently in the sun; her eyes were a sharp blue, twinkling cheekily as she tugged on your fingers with her small hands. feeling yourself completely beaten by her puppy eyes, you decide to stay with her until her father arrives.

and oh, goodness, to think that all negative thoughts you had about the parent would completely disappear at one glance.

because fuck, he's gorgeous, he's the prettiest man you've ever met. and conveniently, his daughter happened to be the spitting image of him.

but wait, he lives next door! he just moved in.

at first, he was just a friend - a soft-hearted man who looks way too young to be in his early thirties: the kind that always called you over to hangout when his daughter comes because he knew you adored her chubby cheeks and grabby hands; the kind that always offered to help you with work and groceries and whatever that needed fixing in your house; the kind that always cooks for you or buys an extra serving of food on his way home from work.

but somewhere along the lines of knowing him, something sparked between the both of you (and it may or may not have been first planted in both of your minds by his fatally cute daughter, when she asked if 'the pretty lady next door will be moving in').

but it probably started on the night when he put his daughter to bed slightly later than usual, and invited you over for a drink.

there's nothing wrong with that...right?

wrong!

maybe it was the alcohol in your system, maybe it was the yearning for affection, maybe it was the ache for a proper relationship. but you'd told him what happened when he asked why your hand kept going to your neck when there's nothing there.

cheeks flushed, you'd told him how your ex cheated on you with one of your closest friends from highschool. and somehow you can't stop reaching for the necklace that you used to never take off, the one he gave you for your one-year anniversary.

and sometime after that, it led to you sitting in gojo's lap, lips against his with his large hands dangerously low on your hips. sure, it felt wrong because he already has a daughter whom you can't adore more than you already do, it felt wrong because he was like, what, 10 years older than you? and it also felt wrong because you're sure you shouldn't be kissing him when his daughter is sleeping peacefully in her bedroom just down the corridor.

but hell, it felt good too. because god, you swear this man is so damn fine - his eyes in the prettiest shade of blue possible, his soft white hair, his tall lean figure that he hasn't failed to maintain despite being a single dad in his early thirties, his large hands and, oh goodness, his voice. you're positive that you probably almost died on the spot when you saw him in a suit, veiny hands reaching to tug his tie loose with an almost wolfish grin on his lips as he said hi too you.

so, in conclusion, he's the biggest dilf you've ever met and goddamn there would never be a smash or pass judgement for him, because he is and always will be smash.

(oh, and there was this once he got grumpy and pouty because of his friend that came over...what was his name again? geto, was it? anyway, geto was really nice towards you, but gojo got pissed about it. but then again, gojo looks really cute when he's angry.)

and so, it happened.

---

dilf! gojo that never fails to give you the sweetest compliments and cutest pet names that leaves you blushing profusely. oh, he's such a menace, he thinks that you're so cute when you blush so he just ends up teasing you all the time. it's never 'y/n', it's always gotta be 'sweetheart' or 'honey' or 'cutie', or at the very very least 'n/n-chan'.

dilf! gojo that thinks it feels so natural to call you and his daughter 'his girls', curtsy of that one time when you dozed off with his daughter on your lap as you babysat her. 'my little girls look so adorable,' he'd say, sitting next to you while swinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him.

dilf! gojo that is simply casually affectionate towards those close to him, and it multiplied when it came to you, it just felt so natural. forehead kisses, head pats, hair ruffles (oh god, his big hands, sheesh). it felt right to sling an arm around your shoulder or around your waist.

dilf! gojo that loves hugging you - it's not even that sexual, he just loves having you close to him, feeling your warmth and your sweet scent envelope him, feeling your body right up against his. he thinks that you fit perfectly in his arms (bonus! if you're short, bc he likes to prop his chin on your head).

dilf! gojo that insists you call him 'satoru'.

dilf! gojo that just simply can't stop thinking about you after that kiss, because holy fuck your lips taste so good, felt so soft against his. you looked so small and delicate in his lap, he thinks he can't possibly forget about the sight. you look so pretty when you're blushing and tugging him in for another kiss, wait no, you look so pretty all the time.

dilf! gojo who doesn't fail to notice how you got upset when he asked you to babysit his daughter as he'd be away for the night on a date. oh, the pout you tried to hide. of course he noticed it, because he knew that you want him, and fuck, he wants you too. so bad. so, so bad (but still, you looked so terribly cute as you fixed his tie for him).

dilf! gojo that came back as early as possible, heart almost jumping out of his chest when he realised you'd already put his daughter to bed. oh, you looked so beautiful as you waited for him to come back, sat on the couch with a book in your delicate hands. and he wanted, no, needed to explain to you that you're all he wants, who the fuck cares about that girl he was set up with?

dilf! gojo that just simply couldn't hold himself back as he saw your lips part in shock at his explanation as to why the date was so boring. of course it was boring, she isn't you, and she will never be you. why would i be looking for someone else when i've got my beautiful girls waiting at home for me? he'd say. and it's true.

dilf! gojo that just climbed on top of you and smashed his lips into yours. holy shit, it felt so good, it's just like what he'd been chasing after since that drunken kiss with you on his lap.

dilf! gojo that is so intoxicated by your taste, your scent, everything about you. one his hands cupped your face, the other traced up your thighs. though, he doesn't forget to ask for your permission, a smile curving onto his lips when your hips buck up into his hand, a breathy whimper of 'yes, please' falling from your lips.

dilf! gojo that is so obsessed with the way your juices taste. just from licking his fingers, he was tempted into licking a long stripe along your folds, groaning when quiet whines and whimpers bubble up your throat. if he had the patience, he'd eat you out for hours...but not today, because his cock was so hard that it practically hurts, begging to be released from its restraints.

dilf! gojo that swore if he was any less of a man, he'd have cummed immediately as he slowly pushed his big cock inside you, groaning when you clamped down on him. ah, but you can't be too loud, because you'd wake his daughter. so he settled on wrapping a large hand around your throat, squeezing just so very slightly, his touch gentle but dominating.

dilf! gojo that possibly just got harder upon seeing your small figure beneath him, back arching up and head thrown back. there was a bulge in your tummy. fuck, you're taking me so good, sweetheart. such a good girl for me, oh shit. he'd say, lips on your neck, his other hand gripping your waist.

dilf! gojo that rutted into you harder and faster when he heard you call him daddy. fuck, everything that left your lips always sound so pretty. yeah? you want me to make you a mommy? fill your cute little pussy to the brim with my seed? yeah? you gonna be a good girl and take all my cum? you want me to breed you, yeah? he'd pant, moving his away from your throat to knead one of your tits, crushing your lips with his to muffle your moans.

dilf! gojo that came inside you with a groan, painting your insides white with his thick sticky seed, reaching for that spot deep inside your pussy that made you see stars.

dilf! gojo that thinks you look so pretty, fucked out and panting, tongue lolling out of your mouth and cunt clamping down on his dick like a vice, both your juices spilling out of you.

dilf! gojo is serious about wanting you and wanting to be with you.

#dilf!gojo #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu gojo

[double--blind]

(SPOILERS) breaking down how obsessed Andrew is w/his sister bc he's a repressed lil liar and I'm going insane

This post got longer than I intended it to

1. He claims they don't spend enough time apart from each other to even begin missing her so he doesn't even know if he would, but just earlier in the game he was apart from her for probs like 30 mins tops to investigates some cultists and guess what???? He was already missing her 😒

2. Says "I thought you grew out of this touchy-feely crap" when Ashley asks for a hug, but earlier when he was cooking dinner, he was the one with the inexplicable urge to "pull this broody bitch into [his] arms and force her to stay until she smiles" 😒

3. Piggy-backing off the last screenshot: WHAT OTHER THOUGHTS, ANDREW??? yOU WERE JUST THINKING ABT HUGGING HER. WHAT DO YOU EVEN MEAN. THESE ARE SIMPLY INNOCENT BROTHERLY THOUGHTS ARE THEY NOT????? 🤨🤨🤨

4. Bro just can't keep his hands off her. And everyone thinks Ashley's the clingy one jeez (lol the way he springs apart from her when Mom catches them is definitely definitelyyyy not worth analyzing. nope. not even when it happens a second time on the couch. nope. nooope)

5. What. What is he thinking here. Don't think I don't see those grey lil blush lines. Is this connected to my third point somehow bc like... 🤨😬 Is "Andrew" is gonna start doing and being what "Andy" was too spineless and afraid of doing?? That's what the vow was partly abt right?? Does that include—

5. WHEWWW BOY that little flashback with his gf has so much baggage in it I just wanna dissect. His girlfriend's tryna have a serious discussion with him abt his weird sister for the sake of bettering their relationship bc she genuinely loves him, but he just gets caught up in fondly talking abt said weird sister instead??

6. He's awfully hesitant abt Ashley learning some independence, bc y'know what?? I think he doesn't really want her to stop relying on him. But what do I know y'know

6. Wants his gf to put tie her hair up in a ponytail, then when she refuses bc he'll pull on it, says it's just "how boys express their love". Well. You know who else puts there hair up in a ponytail??? You know who else's hair he's always pulling on and touching???

7. The voicemails in his gf's phone left by Ashley are heard by him in his dreams, and his dreams are a construction of his mind utilizing his memories, personal hangups, and knowledge of Ashley. The voicemails irl were left on his gf's phone, and for all we know, he never actually listened to them in person. Bearing this in mind... odds are the things Ashley's saying contain bits of truths he believes within himself, filtered thru her crude, hateful dialogue.

Here. I transcribed one of them...

"DO YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME!? Just because you can fuck him and I can't? You think that's love?! Are you fucking delusional?? Cumdumpsters like you are just that. He will never love you. Not like he loves me. I am the only one. I am everything. I am the secrets you'll never hear. When he lies in bed at night, and when he needs someone to hold on to… It's not you he seeks out. It is me."

8. Claims Ashley's the one with the jealous streak, not him, but I think he's just as bad. The only difference is that Ashley's never given him reason to act on it since all she's ever wanted was him, but at the slightest mention of her gettin it on w/someone else, even as a joke, he gets mad. "OVER MY DEAD BODY!!" he says, when she's jokingly contemplating getting knocked up via the neighbor so an ambulance would come for her. "I wouldn't let them," he says, when she's complaining abt not being pretty enough for the wardens to bang her

9. Going hand-in-hand with that fact, he's intensely protective of her. Didn't hesitate to cleaver the warden who found her in the closet (probs didn't even BLINK lmaooo he chose VIOLENCE), and when the cake-stealing cultist insulted her just once, he stepped forward just like that

10. In their apt, when they were lying on the floor talking abt jumping off the balcony, he was really caught up in the "romantic" fantasy of them committing a double suicide and dying with their bodies entwined so irreparably by the impact they form one unified corpse "never to be separated!" and they get buried in the same coffin together. UM??? Bro fr thought he was the sane one of the two. That wasn't even true before the cannibalism and demon summoning 😭😭😭

BONUS:

11. This might just be me, but his reaction to seeing the post-sex vision doesn't strike me as someone who's inherently opposed to the idea. Instead of disgusted, he was... flustered?? He acted like she walked in mid-guilty pleasure wet dream. This wasn't a "GROSS THATS INCEST" reaction which is... the most normal reaction to have. That's the face of a man that got CAUGHT bro.

He asks "we're not like that, are we?" and "why are you like this?" and questions the veracity of the vision, but he never actually explicitly denies wanting the vision to happen, more focused on Ashley and her reaction. He buries the elephant under the rug as fast as he can, bc yeah, it struck a landmine, but it probably wasn't a landmine for the reason Ashley thinks it is. I bet the vision just hit a little too close... :P

#the coffin of andy and leyley #coffincest #andrew x ashley #tcoaal #txt post #character analysis #andrew graves #bro is MESSED UP and I'm only scratching the surface #half of this post is analyzing his gf and I'm not even done man I didn't even mention how Julia is both a foil for Ashley and a lookalike #he both chose a girl completely different from her (mfer's compensating) and someone who reminds him of her

[baptismbaby]

୨୧ HEAVEN

drug dealer!ellie x reader summary: you and ellie don't really get along but tolerate each other for your friends, jesse and dina. when participating in a game of seven minutes in heaven at a party, the bottle lands on ellie. a small confrontation somehow leads to something more. warnings: fingering (r!receiving), ellie's kinda mean but not really wc: 4.1k<3

It was the end of the college semester and all finals were completed which meant it was time to let loose. After spending weeks tiring yourself out, crying, barely getting any sleep just to study, you were treating yourself with alcohol and whatever other substances that would be offered to you. On top of that, you needed to get laid. You knew your friends with benefits, Siobhan, would be there. You and Dina were ready, just waiting for Jesse to come and get you two. 

Jesse suddenly opened the door to your dorm and waved a hand urging the two of you to come out. “Let’s go,” he said. 

“What took you so long?” Dina asked, shutting the door behind her. 

“I was getting stuff.”

“From who?”

“TJ,” responded Jesse.

Both you and Dina groaned. The weed Jesse got from his dealer was too strong for the both of you. No matter how many times you told Jesse you were convinced he laced it, he would buy from him anyway. Plus, he overcharged his customers. 

“You know Ellie is gonna be at the party,” said Dina. “Why not buy from her?”

You made a face. Ellie was great friends with Dina and Jesse but you didn’t really like her. All she had to offer was good weed and discounts since you were friends with Dina. Other than that, you thought she was cocky. About a year ago, you were dating this girl who wanted to keep the relationship a secret because she was “closeted.” But really, she was also dating Ellie and when the two of you found out, you both showed up to her dorm together to confront her. You tried being friends with Ellie after but she’d brush you off. You thought maybe she hated you for it which you never understood. 

“I prefer TJ’s weed.”

“You’re insane, Jesse,” you teased.

“I don’t care if you guys think it’s laced. Whatever he’s lacing it with, works.”

The three of you walked out of the building and down the sidewalk. Luckily, the party was only a few blocks away which meant no one had to drive. 

“Oh, before I forget, are you gonna go back to Jesse’s dorm tonight Dina?” you questioned.

“Yeah, why? Gonna hit up Siobhan?”

“Oh, definitely. Haven’t seen her in a month and I need to get laid.”

“You’re still fucking Siobhan? I heard she got a boyfriend recently,” said Jesse.

Both you and Dina shot each other a confused look. “Boyfriend? She’s gay.”

“Don’t shoot the messenger, just something I heard.”

“Nah, Siobhan would tell me if she was dating someone.”

“Well… you did say she was sorta being dry recently,” Dina muttered.

“I mean, yeah, but she said she was stressed with her finals.”

“If I knew you were still fucking her, I would’ve said something sooner.”

“Jesse, what are you not telling me?”

You could hear muffled music from a distance as y’all got closer to the party. Jesse remained silent, hoping you would drop it. 

“Jesse,” you continued. “I will pinch you if you don’t tell me what you know.”

You neared the entrance of the party and grabbed the handle, turning it and pulling it open. You looked back at Jesse, waiting for him to say something.

“The boyfriend… might be TJ.”

“What?” you and Dina shrieked. Dina grabbed your arm and pulled you into the party, the both of you giggling and leaving Jesse behind. “He has to be joking!” Dina laughed.

“I’m saying, there’s no way!”

“Whatever, wanna go find Ellie to get some weed?”

“Sure, I guess.”

You started looking around the party, searching for Ellie. You finally noticed her standing in the corner with a joint hanging from her lips. You tapped Dina and pointed. “You go ahead, I’m gonna look for Siobhan,” you yelled over the music in her ear. Dina nodded and walked off while you went the opposite direction. You pushed past the crowd of people, glancing to see if you could see her anywhere. You finally saw her sitting on a couch with a red cup in hand. You smirked and walked faster, yelling out her name to get her attention. When she made eye contact with you, her smile fell from her face. You ignored it and held out your hand to help her up. She disregarded it and stood up on her own, placing her cup down on the table.

“Hey,” she said awkwardly. 

You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head slightly. “Hey, you okay?”

She sighed and placed her hands on her hips. You started to wonder if Jesse was right earlier.

“Look, I think we should just be friends.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” you said.

“Cool. I’m sorry if I wasted your time or anything.”

“Nah, we were just hooking up. No hard feelings.”

“Yeah, I just wanted to experiment a bit-”

“Wait, huh?” you interrupted. “Experiment?” 

Siobhan averted her gaze to the floor. “Y-Yeah, to see if I liked girls. I had a great time with you, you’re amazing. I just prefer men.”

“You told me you were gay,” you said, although it sounded more like a question. 

“I didn’t think you would’ve wanted to do anything with me if I said I wanted to experiment.”

“Siobhan, that’s fine but you should’ve said so.”

“Okay. Are we cool?” she asked, obviously wanting to end the conversation.

You shrugged. “Sure… I’m gonna go now. Have a good night.”

You spun around and sped walked to the other side of the room where Ellie and Dina were standing. They were deep in conversation and didn’t acknowledge you at first. You rested your hand on Dina’s shoulder to get her attention, causing her to jump.

“Jesus!” she exclaimed. 

“Jesse was right!”

Ellie watched you and Dina talk over each other in confusion. All she could catch from the conversation was “experiment,” “straight,” and “Siobhan.” Ellie tapped your shoulder and gave you a look. “What the hell are you yapping about?”

“Her friends with benefits was-”

“Sh, Dina!” you whined. “Don’t tell her!”

Ellie understood what Dina was about to say anyways, based on what she heard before. Ellie chuckled and shook her head in disbelief.

“What?” you asked.

“That’s embarrassing,” said Ellie. 

You rolled your eyes and ignored her. You leaned back against the wall, your eyes darting across the room to see if there was any girl you were interested in and who might be interested in you. But most of these girls you knew were in relationships or were straight. You sighed in defeat and crossed your arms. “Let’s go smoke,” you muttered, tugging Dina’s shirt to follow you. You were looking for a place to sit when you noticed people sitting in a circle. “Wanna go over there?”

“They’re playing seven minutes in heaven,” Ellie said.

“Ugh, what are we, in middle school?”

“Might be kinda fun. Maybe you can get lucky in a closet since your hookup ditched you for dick.”

You glared up at Ellie and smacked her arm. Ellie put her hands in the air with a smirk. “Just saying.”

You thought over it, knowing Ellie was right. If you couldn’t hook up with anyone else, you might as well makeout with a stranger in a closet. “Let’s go,” you groaned. The three of you made your way over to the group.

“Hey, Ellie,” one of the boys greeted. “Coming to play?”

“Yeah, me and her.”

“I’m just here to watch,” said Dina, sitting outside of the circle. Ellie sat next to the boy and you sat on the other side next to a girl. 

“Hey,” the girl slurred. She was shitfaced, her cheeks were red and she kept giggling. “Your necklace is soooo cute!”

“Oh, thank you!”

“Quit chit chatting, Ivory. It’s your turn to spin the bottle!”

The girl, who you now knew as Ivory, perked up and crawled ungracefully to the bottle. She spun it weakly, the bottle landing on a guy to the left of you. He stood up, tripping over nothing but catching his balance. He was equally as wasted. The two of them stumbled away, holding onto each other.

“The closet is over here!” Ellie’s friend yelled. Everyone laughed when they kept going and walked into the bathroom. “Well, I guess it’s your turn.”

You realized the man was talking to you. You cleared your throat and leaned over to grab the bottle. You placed it on the ground and spun it hard, causing it to roll to the other side. It slowed down and tapped Ellie’s foot. 

“Oooohh, Ellie!” her friend teased. “Isn’t that the girl Lisa cheated on you with?”

“Yikes, that’s awkward,” someone else said. You gave Ellie a dirty look as she stood up, walking over to you with her hand held out. “Get up,” she demanded. You grabbed her hand and was yanked up roughly. Ellie dragged you into the closet and slammed the door behind her.

“You know, we could’ve-”

“Shut up,” Ellie grumbled.

The two of you tried hard to be as far away from each other as possible but it was difficult. The closet was too small. 

“Lisa didn’t cheat on you with me, by the way,” you muttered.

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Fine! I guess we’ll stand here in silence.”

Ellie groaned, rubbing her eyes and covering her face behind her hands after. “Why did I suggest playing this stupid game?”

“Hey, you could’ve said no when the bottle landed on you.”

“I’m not a pussy,” Ellie defended herself.

“Whatever.”

The way you had to stand was awkward. Ellie’s feet were together, your feet on either side. You wanted to laugh at how ridiculous you looked but didn’t want to annoy Ellie again. 

“Here,” said Ellie, putting her left foot on the other side of your right one. She pushed your foot against her other one so you weren’t in the position you were before. Now, you and Ellie’s feet were intertwined. “You looked uncomfortable.”

“Thanks.”

Ellie crossed her arms, her eyes fixed on you. You looked down to avoid making contact.

“What’s the deal with you and Siobhan?” Ellie suddenly asked.

You scoffed. “Why would I tell you? So you can laugh at me?”

“I won’t laugh. Swear. I just kinda feel like you might wanna talk about it. Might as well talk about it now.”

You sighed, holding out your pinky. “Promise?”

Ellie reluctantly wrapped her pinky with yours. “Um, sure. Promise.”

“Well, I matched with Siobhan on a dating app two months ago. She said she was looking for a fuck buddy and I thought she was pretty cute so we started fucking. But then we got busy, she was dry with me after a month and come to find out, she’s straight and was only experimenting.”

“Damn,” said Ellie. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“Was she any good?”

“Huh?”

“Was she any good?” Ellie repeated.

You shrugged. “She was okay. I was kinda desperate, I guess. I’m not a top but I topped for her. I tried getting her to top me but she refused.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow. “Wait, you’re not a top?”

“Um, no,” you scoffed. “I prefer being a bottom. It was my first time topping, actually. Or… being dominant, I guess is the correct term. So, I guess we were both experimenting.”

Ellie started laughing. She put her hand on the wall beside your head to keep her balance. 

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re bullshitting!”

“Hey, I’m not bullshitting!”

“Dude, we both were dating the same person once. You’re lying,” Ellie retorted. Her laughter had died down and her demeanor changed. She was serious and seemed slightly irritated.

“I wasn’t dominant with Lisa,” you uttered. “Were you?”

“Yeah, I was.”

“Oh… didn’t know she was a switch. She never told me that.”

Everything got really quiet again. You checked the time on your phone, wondering if the seven minutes was close to being done yet.

“She did cheat on me with you,” said Ellie. “You said she didn’t but she did.”

“Ellie, she was playing both of us. And yes, she cheated on me with you. Her and I were dating before you guys were.”

“If you say so.”

“Dude, get over it. It happened over a year ago. It’s in the past. Maybe you should be angry at her and not me.”

“I am angry at her and not you.”

“You were so cool at first,” you continued, disregarding what she said. “I thought we were gonna be friends after what happened. I thought us confronting her together was something we were gonna laugh about after but you blew up on me and ignored me. Now, you’re rude anytime I’m around.”

“I was wrong for that,” Ellie admitted. “I’m sorry.”

You were surprised to hear an apology from Ellie. Everything you had planned to say vanished. You rested your hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. “It’s okay. I wanted to blow up on you when I first found out about you. But I knew it wasn’t your fault.”

“I know it wasn’t yours either. I was… ugh, nevermind.”

“You can tell me.”

“Forget it.”

Ellie hated talking about her feelings with her own friends. The fact that she was opening up to you a bit terrified her. You kept staring at her intently, a small smile on your lips. You never noticed but she was actually very pretty. The way the light from the crack in the door hit her face made her look ethereal. 

“You know, I was kinda hoping there would be someone out there I would wanna hook up with,” you said, changing the subject. Ellie chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah, not a lot of options out there, huh?”

You shook your head no and laughed, leaning your head back on the wall. “I wonder how long we’ve been in here.��

“I think we got a couple minutes left,” said Ellie.

“Guess I won’t get lucky in a closet either,” you joked. 

“Do you want to?”

You snorted. “I mean, there’s no one out there who interests me.”

“Well, I’m here.”

Your eyes widened. Ellie stepped forward, completely closing the space between the two of you. Her hand was pressed against the wall as she towered over you. She glanced down at your tight shirt that hugged your chest perfectly. “Not gonna lie, you look good tonight.”

“Ellie…”

“What?”

“C’mon, you’re high. You don’t mean that.”

Despite how weird you were starting to feel, you couldn’t ignore the throbbing between your legs. Your breath grew heavy as she licked her lips and brushed her fingers along your jaw. You were frozen, staring up at her in shock. Ellie’s hand dropped to her side and she laughed. “I’m just joking, dude. Damn, you should see your face right now. Like a deer in headlights.”

“Not f-funny, Ellie,” you mumbled, your face still buzzing from how gentle her touch was.

“What, did I get you all worked up?” she taunted.

Before you could respond, there was a banging at the door. “Time’s up!”

The door opened and you rushed out, leaving Ellie behind. You looked over your shoulder to see her smirking at you. You sat down in the closest chair that was out of view for Ellie, fighting to catch your breath. You felt confused. How was it that it went from the two of you arguing to her making a move on you? Sure, she was just teasing. But the way she looked at you made you think otherwise. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and texted Dina.

hey, where r u????

going back tojessses dorm

hpw was thr closwet???

girl are u wasted… i didnt even see u drink anything tf

a tiny bot i stple a bottle:)

the closet was fine we said nothing to each other the whole time

damn dina did u even eat today???

nopr! srry for missinh it got tpo sick

dont be sorry, drink some water n go to bed. feel better xo

You shoved your phone back in your pocket and sighed. Your mind was going crazy thinking about what happened. To make matters worse, you started wondering how it would’ve been if Ellie was being serious. If she kissed you, felt you up a little bit. Would you have liked it?

-

After an hour of small talk with a few other people and two drinks, the party was finally dying down. Mostly everyone had left and the music no longer played. Usually, you’d be gone by now. But you stayed because Ellie was still there. You could see her eyeing you from across the room, rolling a joint to give to one of her friends. You were gonna wait until she left to go to. A few minutes passed and she finally stood up, making her way to you. You sighed and got up from your seat, waiting for her to approach you.

“Thought you would’ve left by now,” she said once she was a few feet away from you.

“Yeah, me too.”

Ellie leaned against the counter and smiled. “Did you find someone to hookup with?” You shook your head no. “Me neither.”

“Damn,” you mumbled.

“Come home with me.”

You raised an eyebrow at her. “Seriously? Playing a prank on me again?”

“No, I’m not. You’re being annoying asking too many questions all the time. Just get your shit and come with me,” she demanded. You grabbed your bag and followed Ellie. You jogged a bit to catch up so that you were walking by her side. She opened the door for you, watching your ass as you stepped out.

“Is Dina with Jesse tonight?”

“Yeah,” you answered.

“Was wondering where she went.”

“She got too drunk.”

“When did she drink anything?”

“When we were in the closet, apparently,” you said.

“Did you tell her what I did?”

“No.”

“Atta girl,” praised Ellie. You blushed, your heart racing. 

“I thought you were ‘just joking,’ Ellie.”

“I was kinda but… we both wanna fuck and there’s no one else to fuck. Thought we could help each other out.”

You said nothing and picked up the pace when the cold air blew harder. You wrapped your arms around yourself as an attempt to feel warm but it didn’t help. You mentally cursed yourself for forgetting a coat.

“Wanna borrow my hoodie?” Ellie asked.

“It’s fine.”

“You can wear it until we get there,” Ellie pulled her hoodie over her head, revealing a baggy black t-shirt and her tatted arm. She threw it at you and chuckled when you yelped. 

“Thanks, Ellie.” You shoved it over your head and sighed at the warmth. You could smell her cologne and weed, which comforted you. Ellie’s phone started to ring. She groaned and pulled it out, answering without checking the ID.

“What?” she snapped. She slowed to a stop and sighed. “Dammit, okay. I guess I’ll go to my girl’s dorm instead. Bye.” Ellie shoved her phone back in her jean pocket, cussing under her breath. “We’re gonna have to go to your dorm.”

“That’s fine,” you said.

“Not really. I told my roommate I was bringing a girl home and to go to his girl’s place if he finds one. He doesn’t listen.”

“Well, luckily I have the room all to myself since Dina is with Jesse.”

The dorms came into view. You were growing anxious, suddenly aware of what was about to happen. You wanted this and you knew you did. At first, it was because of desperation. But now, you wanted it because it was with Ellie. You felt strange. You didn’t even like her. You weren’t even drunk enough to blame it on alcohol. Maybe it excited you to have sex with someone you hated. Whatever it was, you didn’t care. At least you were getting something.

When the two of you finally got to your dorm, you both stood there awkwardly. Ellie’s boldness from earlier was long gone. You set your bag down and kicked your shoes off. “I’m gonna take my makeup off,” you mumbled. Ellie stayed quiet and sat down on the bed, studying the posters on your wall. Since Ellie wasn’t looking, you decided to undress and change into a tank top. You got the last bit of makeup off and threw the wipe in the trash. You sat down next to Ellie, gaining her attention. She smirked at the polka dot boyshorts you were wearing. 

“That’s real grown up,” she teased. 

“Hey, they’re comfortable.”

Ellie placed a hand on your thigh, slowly running it up and down your exposed skin. “I wish we could’ve gone to my place,” she whispered, her hand getting closer to your panties. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you went to speak. “W-Why?”

“I was gonna fuck you with a strap. And you could’ve been as loud as you wanted.” Ellie tugged on your thigh, signaling you to open your legs. You spread them and watched Ellie lean over to admire the wetness that showed. “God, I was gonna fucking ruin you. Get up and strip for me,” she commanded. You got up and stepped between her knees, letting her run her hands all over your body as you pulled your tank top over your head. “Fuck,” she breathed. She grabbed your chest and squeezed tightly, eliciting a moan from you. She sat up and wrapped her mouth around your nipple, her tongue going in circles and flicking the bud. Your fingers went through Ellie’s hair and tugged at the strands. She groaned, wrapping her arms around your body and slamming you onto the bed.

She shoved your panties down and put her hand over your cunt. You bucked your hips forward, begging for her to do more. She brought her thumb down and placed it on your clit. “Is this what you wanted?”

You nodded, a whine escaping your lips as she moved her thumb in a circle over the bundle of nerves. She grinned watching your body writhe in pleasure. Your soft moans filled the room, growing louder as she sped up. Her hand covered your mouth to stifle them. “Sh, sh, sh… don’t want anyone hearing, do you?” You shook your head. “Then shut up, will you?”

You tried to keep quiet but it was hard. Ellie was too good with her fingers. You could already feel that familiar burning in your stomach, meaning you were close. Ellie noticed your squeals and whimpers were coming out quicker and more desperate. She kept her thumb on your clit and slipped in two fingers, pressing down harder on your mouth to muffle your whining. She fingered you at a fast pace, her thumb still going in circles. You felt dizzy, overwhelmed with how good it felt. Ellie put a third finger in, your cunt tightening around her digits. Ellie was amused watching you come undone beneath her. Before you knew it, your orgasm took over you. It was powerful, coming in waves that made your body convulse and forced you to bite your lip hard to keep from screaming. Ellie pulled her fingers out and sucked them clean. 

You laid there, fighting to catch your breath. Ellie leaned over and grabbed your tank top and panties, placing them beside you. She got up and disappeared to the bathroom and came back out with a wet rag. “Here,” she said as she held it out to you. “You kinda made a mess.” You took the rag and raised up, cleaning up your thighs and handing it back to Ellie. “Thanks,” you mumbled. You shoved your clothes back on and got underneath the covers while Ellie sat on Dina’s bed. You felt awkward with the uncomfortable silence that fell over you two. You wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“I… think I’m gonna go,” said Ellie, standing up to grab her hoodie. “I’ll text you, okay?”

“Oh, okay. Get home safe.”

Ellie left without saying anything else. You were so confused. You had a great time with her but once it ended, you felt weird. Like it wasn’t supposed to happen but at the same time, you were elated. You’ve never came so quickly before in your life and it definitely never felt that good. You had no clue how it got to this point. She spent the whole year either ignoring you or being short with you. Tonight was the first time she actually really talked to you and you realized that before the closet. You wondered if she really would text you. This was a one time thing and you knew that. A part of you wished it wouldn’t be.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x you #tlou2 #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #the last of us part two #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams smut

[mphountitled]

sungchan who’s been such a sweetheart your whole relationship until you decide that you want to break up because you’ve started to notice how absolutely insane the red flags were?? but he NEEDS you, and you need him…you just don’t know it yet. and he’ll do anything to prove that! you out of all people, knows that he’ll always get what he wants.

🎀 anon <33

𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘿𝙚𝙛𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 | 𝙅𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙎𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣

- Pairings: Jung Sungchan x Fem!reader

- Warnings: College!au, Established Relationship, Language, Angst, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Obsession, Slight Dark fic, Insecurities, Smut (+18 Minors Dni) Breeding Kink, Slight Dub/con, Daddy Kink, Car sex, Choking, Spitting, Grinding, Degradation Kink

A/N: I really liked this request so so so much. I'm not sure if I did it justice, but this was indeed very fun to write

The very ideology of commitment had always been a foreign concept in his head. Not for any self-righteous reason beyond the fact that Sungchan had just never been ‘that guy’.

For the duration of his college career, Sungchan had been all too comfortable, dedicating his time and effort to becoming the #1 draft pick, this goal being something akin to a holy grail in Sungchan's mind. He would honestly rather die than let anything beyond the court take precedence over his mind.

But now Sungchan is yours.

And your head is thrown back in a genuine guffaw aimed at the sky, as you hang on intently to every word another man is saying.

This is the very first thing Sungchan has had to see exiting the gym, with the rest of his teammates swarming around him.

Instead of waiting in the car, like you usually did, a book open on your lap while Classical music oozed out of your phone speakers, you're entertaining his teammate. Your textbook open as your explanations flow from your lips like a waterfall. Seunghan wears a permanent lopsided grin on his face as he cradles the basketball to his side, bending his tall frame down to you and your textbook.

Although you don't notice Sungchan approaching, Seunghan does. The smirk on his face is absolutely diabolical as he raises a hand robotically and waves, before nodding along to your explanations once again.

Unable to move any further, Sungchan chooses to wait out the interaction along the far wall until Anton and Sohee join him in a flurry of their usual banter.

You laugh at something Seunghan says but your eyes are still trained on your textbook. A thought, ice cold and incredibly vile strikes through Sungchan's brain at the very moment.

Maybe Sungchan just was not smart enough for you.

Perhaps that is why you were giving another boy so much of your precious time.

His frown only deepens with the birth of the vile, uncomfortable revelation. All those times he had droned on and on to you about sports, forcing you to watch highlights of basketball games while his head rested on your lap, raking your fingers aimlessly through his hair.

While he was in heaven, you were apparently in hell.

This illogical jumping to conclusions, seems, to Sungchan as your only logical excuse for entertaining another man so closely.

Sungchan does not bother to hide the grim emotions descending on him like a plague. He only leans his back firmly against the west wall, backpack hanging lazily from his broad shoulders while the rest of his teammates scatter on home. Unbeknownst to Sungchan, his face is lowered, causing a wide shadow to cast over his eyes.

"You're glaring."

He does not offer Sohee any justifiable response, choosing instead, to ignore him as he continues his blatant staring.

“What do you think they're talking about?" He asks instead, the confines of his white and orange letterman jacket feeling far too hot.

"Do you know how scary you look when you do that?" Anton snickers, "Borderline serial killer shit."

"He definitely wants to fuck her," Sungchan continues, locked in on this display in front of him. Your book is cradled to your chest now, and you're looking up at Seunghan with a small, imperceptible smile.

"He wants to fuck her, I can tell-"

"How anyone can manage to pop a boner in the presence of a Psychology textbook is beyond me..." Sohee grumbles, dribbling his ball in between his legs.

"In his own fucked up logic," Anton begins, "Sohee's right." He ignores the bewildered expression of the older boy, choosing to roll his eyes over to Sungchan as he explains, "They're probably just talking about school, like they usually do."

"Nah," Sungchan shakes his head, unconvinced, "They just finished an essay on Freud. She fucking hates Frued. Whatever they're talking about... it's not that." You would not be smiling like that if all you had to talk about was psychology. You enjoyed school, but not that much.

"Your fault for going for someone actually smarter than you."

The snicker in Sohee's tone alludes to the fact that it was somewhat of a joke and meant to be taken as one... but the tightening grip on Sungchan's backpack has Anton glaring daggers at Sohee over Sungchan's bowed head.

"B-But," Sohee injects his voice with optimism, "It's not like you don't already have that on lock."

Anton is quick to jump on to the bandwagon, "Precisely," he says, "Girls date from 100, so if she's already let you consummate the relationship-"

"Just say fuck, Anton for the love of God-" Sohee grumbles,

"-She most likely already sees you as the person she wants to spend the rest of her ride with-"

"Fuck fuck fuck, that's what people do in relationships- they fuck-"

"You're a degenerate." Anton murmurs quietly.

And while they bicker, Sungchan did not have the heart to tell them that, for your sake, he had decided to 'wait' on any intimacy because he was so intent on being the perfect boyfriend.

Your perfect boyfriend.

He had spent an embarrassing chunk of your relationship locking away any urges that arose when your kisses got too heated, refraining from stuffing his hands down your pants when you were grinding a little too heavily in between said make out sessions and stopping himself from absolutely ravaging you whenever you reprimanded him, scolded him or corrected him during your study sessions.

Sex was all Sungchan ever thought about whenever you were in his presence, but evidently, you divulge your attentions elsewhere. You did not need him. The farthest you two had ever gone was Sungchan guiding you to orgasm by the sound of his voice.

How pretty you sounded over the phone line, voice heated with lust and veneered with static as you came all over your fingers in your darkened dorm room, imagining it was his. He had uttered so many 'good girl's , so many fits of praise because it was all true. You were a good girl, and he would fight biblical forces if it meant he could preserve that.

"Nah, fuck that," Sungchan pushes himself off the wall, making his way over to you because now Seunghan has his hand on your arm, carelessly handling what did not belong to him, because regardless of the moral repercussions involved, you were his.

"What're we talking about?" Sungchan cannot forget the way your smile dims ever so slightly upon his arrival. It scribbles itself into his memoey like a traumatizing little etch-a-sketch, making his heart sink in vexation and his abdomen tightening into a knot of perhaps, maybe anger.

"Oh, hey-"

When Sungchan looks down at you, he imagines only his face as the only image reflected in your smiling eyes. You were his just as he was yours, and so it should not come off as a shock to anyone when he slyly throws his arm over your shoulder, pulling you unexpectedly into the heat of his letterman jacket.

Your frame is as solid as concrete, the smile you had once adorned now completely gone.

"Hey," Sungchan whispers to you, but he directs his attention to a smirking Seunghan. Very clearly, all too pleased at having roused his teammate.

"Seunghan just needed clarification on psycodiagnostocs," you explain, somewhat nervously, because Sungchan is splaying tiny pecks against the side of your head while never breaking eye contact with Seunghan "T-the paper we have to do on African Epistemologie-”

“I'm sure Seunghan has a tutor for that.” the arm on your shoulder is fashioned of concrete. You couldn't move out of his grip if you wanted to.

“Don't bore him with the details, babe” Sungchan says, keeping his glare stationed on a grinning Seunghan all while bending down to whisper along your ear, loud enough for Seunghan to hear.

“He still needs to work on that Euro step too-”

“Sungchan.” There is a deep tempest stirring in your tone as you glare up at him, wholly and remarkably unimpressed. Before you could complete your verbal annihilation, Seunghan raises a hand, silencing you effectively.

“I'll let you know how the test goes,” Seunghan says, rousing Sungchan more by completely ignoring him, which, evidently, was the goal. “See you around.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

To say you were fuming would be a gross understatement. You're absolutely seething as you charge towards the only other vehicle parked in the deserted lot.

Sungchan raises his hand to block away the orange sun, settling on an uneven horizon as he strolls lazily after you, seemingly unfazed by his barbaric display of possessiveness Your hands are shaking as they latch onto the Jeep's handle, and you're barely even able to jump up into the truck before he's grasping at your hips, begrudgingly pulling you up.

“I know how to fucking work a seatbelt-”

Sungchan only snickers, before clicking in the belt, “Watch your tone,” he whispers before motioning to place a kiss on your cheek. You block it, flinching away from him and effectively causing a dark cloud to settle over his once jovial countenance.

“You were unbelievably out of line.” You begin to explain, looking deep into Sungchan's eyes as he leans into the passenger, with his arm on the car roof, effectively caging you in.

“I can't believe you did all that, knowing I need people to tutor!" You exclaim, "Knowing good and damn well that that's more money for me.”

Sungchan's eyes are lazer focused on you as he shrugs.

“You don't need his money.” Sungchan begins, furiously trying to keep his voice even, “You don't need anything from him.”

“I don't need anything from you.”

All is quiet as your words seem to haunt the atmosphere like an archaic apparition come to assert its vengeance on two unsuspecting young lovers. You are unable to know what Sungchan is thinking behind those concrete eyes, all until a smile cracks across his visage. A toothy grin that has him chuckling into the air until he's pulling back and shutting the door.

Sungchan rounds the car, head full of the weight of your words and what they essentially implied.

You did not want anything from him.

Or perhaps, you think you didn't.

Once Sungchan is behind the steering wheel, he does not move. He is only swinging his head sideways after a very agonising beat as he says. “You think I'm stupid?”

Your brows furrow, and your heart kickstarts as Sungchan sits back until his head is resting on leather headrest. His hand is stationed on your thigh, and you're not sure why, but a very stark shiver shoots down your spine, one that is not completely separated from feelings of absolute excitement.

“You don't wanna be seen with your stupid fucking boyfriend, do you?” he's not yelling, in fact his voice is perfectly normal. As gentle as the movements of his hand framing your exposed thigh and nearing the lining of your skirt with dangerous precision.

“Babe-” you shake your head, correcting yourself, “Sungchan, where is this coming from?

“You're ashamed of me,” He says, all to plainly before slotting his large hand underneath your skirt. You exhale shakily as you imperceptibly, almoat shyly open your legs further. Never had your boyfriend admistered any physical intimacy, no matter how anxiously you craved to experience his large hands on hour skin.

Did you need to get him mad to have him claim you?

Your morals and values completely dissolve as you throw your head back, allowing Sungchan's hand to delve deeper under your skirt.

“I see how it is,” he whispers, heavy eyes stationed on his hand under your skirt. The very moment the tips of his fingers brush against your soaked underwear, you're immediately grinding into his hand, hoping your desperation will transfer in your stilted movements. He watches, mesmerized.

“Do I need to be smarter for you?” He asks, mouth salivating at the sight of you grinding so heavily against his fingers. “What do I need to do better? It's almost like-” Sungchan's hand disappears from underneath your skiirt and you nearly whine at the loss of stimulation.

“It's almost like I need to get you pregnant in order to listen to me.” He whispers, seemingly to himself before dragging his gaze to you…

“Is that what you want?”

His eyes are piercing into yours as his hand slowly encircles around your throat. He's bringing you over the center console by a single grip on your esophagus, having your hips straddling his.

All in slow, calculated movements.

The rest of the world disappears as Sungchan attaches his lips to your throat, dragging your hips along the bulge in his sweatpants.

“Is that what you want, baby?” His voice is laden with lust. All his previous emotions spilling out of him in the form of sloppy, wet kisses on the side of your face. “Tell me you want me to cum deep inside you,”

A whine bleeds from your throat, immediately snapping his restraint before he's lifting you to uncover his red, leaking cock. Your eyes widen at the side of it, heart pulsing in your chest when it twitches under your palm.

“Fuck, don't look at me like that,” Sungchan murmurs before crashing his lips onto yours.

You're immediately stroking his cock as the kiss deepens, and Sungchan lifts you again, before guiding himself inside of you.

You're sinking onto his cock with bated breath, and he watches you with a pained, euphoric expression. His cock stretches your walls and you shudder as he forces himself deeper and deeper, mumermiing drunken confessions as he assumes a steady rhythm.

“ I've needed to fuck you for so fucking long, fuck,” he is already delirious as he pushes his hand under your shirt, pawing at your sensitive breast.

“F-Fuck Chan,” your eyes roll to the back of your head when Sungchan acts on an intrusive thought and forces his fingers inside your mouth.

“Open,” he practically growls before hooking his fingers inside your mouth. He drags you closer as he continues to fuck up into you with desperation and urgency. Sungchan slithers his tongue out, dragging it lazily against yours before spitting directly into your mouth, all with his fingers still flattening against your tongue.

“Fuck, you're such a slut,” He whispers breathlessly, causing your cunt to clench unimaginably tighter around his aching cock. “You like that, baby?” He asks, returning his hand to your throat. “You like being my perfect fucking slut-”

“Fuck- Daddy,” the words tumble out of your mouth, not for any other reason beyond it just feeling absolutely positively, right.

They evidently have a large effect on Sungchan because his once confident thrusts stutter into shallow motions, as of he was om the brink of cumming right then and there.

“Fuck- oh fuck, I'm so close.”

You can't even begin to explain to him that you're right there with him because your mind is so utterly consumed with pleasure. Your hands are on his shoulders, nails sinking into his letterman as your eyes go hazy with overstimulation and he watches your expression with that same, fucked out, open-mouthed expression.

“F-Fuck, you're gonna make me cum,” he whispers, “You're gonna make fucking cum inside you, baby-”

He twists your nipple, immediately causing a whine to spill from your hips, your cunt tightening around him again.

“Tell me to cum inside you-” He whispers, cock already twitching in warning, “Tell me now-fuck!”

“Please, please,” He's already spilling inside you as the words try to claw its way, out your throat, and you ascend unto your own orgasm. You scream into the stillness of the car as you push yourself down on Sungchan's stuttering hips, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he murmers broken praises and affirmations.

He tells you you're so pretty.

He tells you youre body is fucking perfect.

He tells you every little thing that has your heart swelling more and more in its cage. All for the boy in front of you.

“Fuck,” he whispers, allowing his thumb to ghost over your nipple while you both breath out, absolutely breathless. “Fuck- I thought I was going to kill him-”

“Why would you wanna do that?” You whisper, “You're such an idiot sometimes, you know that?”

He only nods slolwy, a small grin spreading across his face as he keeps himself still very much inside of you.

“Now go buy me a Plan B, please.”

#riize x reader #riize imagines #riize sungchan #riize #riize angst #riize smut #riize headcanon #riize imagine #sungchan x reader #sungchan smut #sungchan x you #sungchan fics #sungchan fluff #sungchan #jung sungchan #jung sungchan x reader

[viennakarma]

My dearest friend and enemy (2)

PART 2 | Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.

Word count: 7.1k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)

I was wondering doing a bonus part about Fernando POV throughout everything (to show he was ALSO miserable), but I don't know if i have the time and energy for it. Let me know if you guys would be interested in it and I'll do it in headcanons/topics.

I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was taking way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

Find me on Twitter!

PART 1 | FERNANDO'S HEADCANONS

You were moping and crying in the living room when the phone started ringing. Looking at the little screen that showed the number that was calling, you knew it was Fernando. You had memorized his number at some point in your lifetime. Your parents weren’t home, so you hesitated. You took so long that his call went to voicemail.

“I know you’re there,” he said, voice sounding tired, low and inpatient, “please pick up the-”

You pulled the phone cable, unplugging the call and silencing him. Wiping your tears, you stared at the unplugged phone on the little side table for what felt like hours, until your parents returned from work, when you got up to plug the phone back and pretend like you didn’t spend the whole day mourning a friendship you always thought would last forever.

After two days ignoring all calls, even Flavio’s, you decided that you’d shield yourself from now on, and you wouldn’t give Fernando any more ammo to hurt you. You met with Flavio at the next race, face heavy with makeup to cover up the sleepless nights you had gone through. You put your bag down and stared at Flavio across the table.

“Good morning. Let’s go back to work,” you said, gently pulling the stack of papers from his grasp. He called your name in that tone, of someone wanting a heart to heart.

“We should talk about the f-” He started but you cut him off.

“No, I don’t want to talk about that,” you said.

“I talked to Fernando and he-”

“I said, I don’t want to talk about it. He’s dead to me.” You repeated slowly, finally looking up at him. Flavio must’ve seen something in your eyes because he let the topic go.

You didn’t see Fernando for two more days, and when the weekend officially started, you avoided him like the plague. Even when you two were in the same place with other drivers, you’d ignore his existence for the most part. Whenever you were in a little circle chatting with other drivers and he arrived, you’d leave immediately. Press conference, you convinced Jenson to switch places with you so you could be as far from Fernando as possible. Even with team debriefs, with Flavio trying to make you talk to Fernando, you refused.

The rest of the season was insane, during team meetings and debriefs you were cold and barely talked to him. He didn’t try to talk to you either, and the silent distance only grew.

You were head to head in a race, you were P2 and Fernando P3 right behind you.

“Switch with Fernando,” your engineer said on the radio.

“He won’t fucking pass me,” you said into the radio, holding your position and pace. He was less than a second behind, and you refused to let him pass.

“I repeat, let him pass,” That was Flavio.

“If he manages to overtake me, he can go.”

He didn’t. You knew you had more pace, but still he insisted, and through the mirrors, you could see him closing in behind you. He tried to overtake but you pushed the car fast, and when he couldn’t anymore, he turned into you, touching his front right tyre to your rear left tyre. You were too fast. The mere touch of his tyre bursted yours. You couldn’t even get angry as you lost control of the car in a millisecond, the speed making your car fly into the air as it hit the gravel. With your car overturning a few times in the air, you watched your sight going ground, sky, ground, sky, ground, sky.

Then you blacked out.

When you woke up, you were on a stretcher being placed carefully inside the ambulance, you tried to get up, dizzy and someone handed you a bag where you threw up inside.

You had an insane headache as they took you to the medical center. Apparently, everything else was alright as you checked your own body for any injuries or problems. The doctor checked you but still made you through a round of tests and injected saline solution diluted with pain medicine in an IV drip. They also decided you’d stay overnight to make sure nothing was wrong. 

Your dad, who was watching from the garage, was the first to find you in the medical center, visibly worried and crying. He hugged you for a whole minute, before taking a step back and touching your face to make sure you were really alright.

“I’m ok, Papá. Just passed out when the car was spinning in the air,” You smiled softly, wanting to dissipate his worry.

“When you didn’t answer the radio-” He choked back tears.

“It’s ok, I’m ok now.”

“What are you feeling, darling?” He pressed, holding your hands to look for injuries in your arms.

“I’m all in one piece, Papá. Just a little sore, but that’s normal whenever a racing driver crashes,” you let him know, and he nodded.

“Let me just call your mother. She was so worried she wanted to get into the first flight here,” He told you.

“Tell her I’m alright and I love her,” you whispered and he nodded, going outside.

You sighed as you were left alone, trying to find a comfortable position where you didn’t have to move too much, since your whole body felt like it had been run over by a truck. The door opened and you thought it was Flavio, but you were faced with Fernando, still sweaty and in his overalls. He looked disheveled, but he was full of worry, even his eyes looked a little misty as he stood there a few meters from you.

But you couldn’t look past the anger when the memory of him diving into your car came back. He had gambled with your life, out of pettiness, out of envy, he couldn’t pass you, so he decided the next best thing was to take you out, not even caring about the danger he was putting you through.

“Leave.” You said, with gritted teeth.

“Please,” he begged with his voice softer than you had heard for almost a year, “let me just-”

“Leave! You could’ve gotten me killed, Fernando. Get out!” You said, louder. “Do you have any idea that you could have ruined my life in a moment of anger?! That you could have gotten me seriously injured or worse?! I would have never done that to you!” You pressed your index finger to the nurse button repeatedly, and a few seconds later, a nurse came in, “Ma’am can you escort him out please?”

You could see in his eyes that he was hurt by your words, but in that moment, all you felt was blind rage, for what he did the last time you spoke and because he crashed into you on purpose. You didn’t want to hear any excuses now that he realized he put your life in danger just because his ego couldn’t take a hit.

The next day, after you were discharged, you traveled for a meeting with Flavio at Renault’s headquarters. He met you alone in the meeting room, talking to you about the accident, and after making sure you were physically fine, he went off.

“What you did yesterday was reckless and you went against express orders from the team and from me. This is not happening again, or you will be risking your seat at Renault,” He said, his voice never leaving room for debate, you swallowed and nodded, “When the team orders you to do something, you do. No questioning, and no going against it. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fernando was really worried about you yes-”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” You cut Flavio off.

“You two are best friends, it’s really sad to see you lose all that because of Formula 1” Flavio said, gently.

“He put my life at risk, Flavio. This is not something a friend would do,” you stood up, walking away but you stopped by the door, “Kinda curious how motorsports, the very thing that brought us together, is the same that tore us apart.”

Then you went to meet the engineers for the next race strategies. 

That night as you laid down at home, you thought that you’d never compete with Fernando solely because he was Flavio’s favorite. If it ever came to Flavio to decide whether you would win or Fernando would win, he’d always pick Fernando. You could’ve been fighting for the championship this year, he had promised you, instead you were being used as a step in Fernando’s path of glory, when you could be fairly racing him for the championship. You’d always come second to him there. That was also the moment you stopped seeing Flavio as a friend, and confined him back to a position of Team Principal.

You reread the Sauber proposal that came to you that year to start racing for them the next season, tempted to just go and make your name somewhere else. Somewhere where you’d be put first.

But deep down, a sense of indebtedness had rooted into your heart ever since the day Fernando told you the truth. You had to pay Flavio back for his trust and for his money, and the only way you thought you could do it was by becoming world champion under his team.

There was still a little kid inside you, a little kid who aspired to prove Fernando wrong, to become a champion and prove to yourself you’re more than him. More than who he wanted you to be, more than a loser.

You turned down the offer from Sauber.

The rest of the season you went almost robotically. You still gave your all every race, but your mood would always damper when you had to follow team orders.

“Ask if me and Fernando can switch, I’m faster!” You said on the radio. You kept driving, Fernando a little less than two seconds in front of you, but you were getting closer and would catch up to him in two laps.

“Negative, protect his position.”

“There’s a McLaren right behind me! They’ll pass us both!”

“Negative, team orders.”

You swallowed and held your position, trying to maintain your P2 and Fernando P1. But when the McLaren got close to you, they managed to pass you after a brief battle, going for Fernando a couple of laps later.

Later, you stood on the podium, looking ahead knowing that P3 could’ve been a P1 if they had let you fight for it. You didn’t look at Fernando on the other side of the podium, you just stood there, eyes watery. You pretended to take part throwing champagne for a few seconds, forcing a smile knowing that it would look bad not to.

The post race interviews were torture, and you wanted to go home and vent to your parents.

“How has it been to manage your friendship with Fernando outside the track?” A reporter asked, and your smile disappeared from your face.

“We were never really friends,” you shrugged, annoyed, you added “Are there any questions about racing instead of my personal life?” The reporter was silent, visibly taken aback by your responses, you had rarely been hostile toward a journalist before, you knew he would have a field day with just those replies, especially when your PR manager gave you a hard stare, “No? Thank you, see you around.”

You finished P2 in the race Fernando became champion for the second time. When you got out of the car, you watched as Flavio and Fernando hugged, jumping from the ground and celebrating. The number one and your team principal. After the podium ceremony, you didn’t bother to stay to spray champagne, just leaving and going straight out.

You got a couple more proposals from other teams, and you were tempted, until Flavio told you Fernando was leaving for McLaren the next year and offered you an extension. You took it under the condition to become the number one driver now that Fernando was out of the picture.

A part of you mourned the death of the dream, the one you had at fourteen to become teammates with your best friend. So many things had happened in between everything, now you would miss it. Only the good, not the bad and ugly. You wish you could go back in time, redo everything, and never allow yourself to lose your best friend on the way.

The next year you ended up striking an unexpected friendship with Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg and eventually the two rookies Lewis and Sebastian, who had been very vocal about being fans of yours.

You didn’t go back to talking with Fernando. You didn’t try and he didn’t either. It felt like the bridges were too far burned to recover.

One day as you walked out of the garage, you saw Fernando with a girl on the opposite side. She was clinging to his side, whispering. You knew he had his fair share of fun with grid girls but he never invited them to watch the race from his garage. You wondered if he was dating again, after a couple of years being nothing more than a player. You also wonder why it made a pang of pain flare through your chest.

You don’t linger too much. He had no reason to tell you. You weren’t even friends anymore.

You moved on, as much as you could. And eventually, you met Kaka, or Ricardo, as you preferred calling him. He was a footballer, a big name in the sport, playing for a big team in Italy. You actually met him at a gala party, the both of you being silly introverts, bumping into each other when trying to find a way out. You two ended up talking for hours on the balcony, watching the city lights.

He reminded you of Nano before Formula 1.

And you actually wanted to smash your own head against the handrail as you thought that.

After exchanging numbers and calling a couple of times, you managed to convince Ricardo to come to a Grand Prix. His presence was calm, funny without being mean, and so gentle. It was actually the calm between the storm your life and job was.

You were pacing around outside the motorhomes to try and see if he had arrived yet, since the last you had talked to him was when he was on his way. While waiting, your eyes found Fernando’s on the opposite side in front of McLaren, he was sitting down with his girlfriend telling him something. You stared at him for a whole minute, and for a brief moment, the anger left his eyes for something softer, something like-

“Hi, minha linda!” Ricardo showed up out of nowhere, and he hugged you so tight he actually swiped you off your feet.

Once the surprise passed, you hugged him back, your fingers finding their way through his hair. And he laughed, spinning you before putting you down. You talked for a bit, your face lit up as he told you about his day.

Your eyes unconsciously turned to Fernando, because you could feel that he had been staring at you for as long as Ricardo was there. His face was back to anger.

“You want me to give you the grand tour?” You offered, just so you could escape the weight of Fernando’s glare.

You took Ricardo by the hand and showed him all around, even introducing him to part of your team. After that race when you placed third, Ricardo invited you to a date, the first official one. After a couple of months and a few kisses, he asked you to be his girlfriend. You only hesitated for a second before smiling and squealing a yes.

Being the main driver of your team allowed you to live an entirely different season as a racer. You didn’t want to be arrogant, but you had it in the bag. You had the best car, the best engines, and just the perfect amount of boldness. Add insane strategies, and you were unstoppable.

Despite Fernando being your close rival on track, he was way too busy beefing with Lewis, his surprisingly great rookie teammate.

During summer break that year, you were on a trip to Brazil with Ricardo, but still, the night of July 29th, you got up at two a.m., slowly went to the fridge, where you got an ice cream pint. With a spoon, you sat on the handrail in the balcony, and watched the waves breaking on the beach a few meters away.

It was weird keeping the ice cream tradition alone, but you supposed it was even weirder not keeping the tradition. Staring at the stars, you wondered if Fernando had any ice cream to celebrate his birthday that day.

“Hi,” you heard Ricardo behind you, his hands sneaking around your middle and he hugged you from behind, laying his head against your shoulder, “everything ok?”

“Yeah, just wanted a little treat,” you mumbled, closing the lid on the ice cream, because a selfish part of you didn’t want to share the tradition with anyone other than Fernando. It was silly and stupid, and still… you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You put the ice cream back in the freezer and smiled at Ricardo as he pulled you into his arms and carried you back to bed.

You came back from summer break with a renewed sense of focus. Deep down you knew that was your season. Your season to become world champion, and nothing was going to get in the way of that. As you won the first two races after summer, you became first in the standings, this sense of purpose being the one thing motivating you every weekend to give your best.

It was Interlagos that year when you needed only a podium to become World Champion, pretty much the same as Fernando two years before. The race was tough, and it felt like Fernando was out to get you, especially in a moment right in the middle of the race, when you were behind him in P3 and he tried to brake test you again, but this time you were quick to react, avoiding his rear and using his own dirty trick against him, turning sharply to overtake him from outer side, moving past him fast enough to gain some precious couple of seconds.

After that, you managed to smoothly overtake the P1 with a carefully planned pit stop that allowed you to come out first. Later on, you saw a crash, nothing too bad, but you found out it was Fernando and Webber.

“Are they ok?” You asked via radio to your engineer.

“Yes, they are already back on the pitlane.”

You sighed and focused back to your race, keeping your P1 safe, and going smoothly to take the checkered flag.

“Congratulations, Y/N! You’re a Formula One World Champion!”

You felt the tears coming down and dampening your balaclava, as you took one last lap to parc ferme, waving at the crowd that went insane.

It was like a huge weight was lifted from your chest. Because you were now world champion. You were there, and you deserved to be there, among the best. You didn’t need to prove yourself anymore, and you had finally paid Flavio back.

You jumped out of the car straight into your team, jumping with them, and Flavio ran up to you, pulling you into a tight hug. Jenson also found you and hugged you firmly, patting your back and Nico also hugged you, both of them were on the podium with you.

As you looked down from the podium, with a watery, emotional smile, you saw your dad crying like a baby and clapping his hands. Unconsciously, your eyes looked for Fernando, silly hoping it mattered something to him, that at least in the name of your former friendship, he would be there, but he was nowhere to be seen, and you felt like that was another nail in the coffin of your friendship.

Deciding to forget it, you drank champagne straight from the bottle, laughing as both Nico and Jenson paired up to drown you in champagne, looking happy for you.

After talking to your mom on the phone, you stood up, taking your bag and going out to look for your dad. You didn’t make it very far, as you came out in the hallway, you found Fernando, leaning against the wall. You paused, looking up to him while your heartbeat went up.

“I’m happy for you,” he whispered. And you wanted to believe it really badly, but thinking about him brake testing you during the race, trying to take you out, made you roll your eyes at him.

“Sure, you are,” you said sarcastically. He shook his head and clicked his tongue, like he was disappointed you didn’t believe him, “my debt is over now.”

“What?” He frowned, confused.

“I just paid Flavio for his investment,” you explained, “I’m not just here because you asked him to support me, I’m a damn great driver. I’m here because I deserve it, not because you took me out of pity.”

Fernando stared at you completely shocked at your words, something painful stabbing at his chest. He never thought you’d think like that over disgusting words he said in a moment of anger. Words that never meant anything to him, that he didn’t even believe in himself. The hurt in your eyes was the same from the day he said the words, when you cried looking into his eyes and telling him he was dead to you.

You walked past him and away. He wanted to shout that he never meant those words, that you were so much more, so much better. But you just left. Fernando followed you outside, trying to catch you and explain himself, maybe fix things between you, making peace.

But as he got outside, he paused, seeing you jumping in your boyfriend’s arms, laughing at something he whispered to you. Fernando swallowed, closing his fist and jealousy burned through his limbs, with such force that it felt like a fever.

Right after the Brazilian Grand Prix, Ferrari got in touch with you, offering a two year contract to become teammates with Kimi Raikkonen and drive for what was one of, if not the most classic team in Formula 1. After negotiations, it was a no brainer. You didn’t owe Renault anything any more. And that’s what propelled you to meet with Flavio that winter break in a cafeteria in Monaco. When you had called, he said he wanted to talk to you about something, which was convenient.

After pleasantries and small talk, you were ready to start, but Flavio cut you off without noticing.

“I have to tell you something,” he started, carefully, “Fernando is coming back to Renault next year.”

You froze for a second, not wanting to think too much about the implications of that. The fact that Flavio was willing to force you and Fernando to be teammates again even after the catastrophic ending you had before. Sighing, you covered your face for a second.

“I know you have reservations, but I’ve talked with Fernando and he’s willing to-”

“I’m going to Ferrari.”

And Flavio understood, after talking for a while. He knew Ferrari was most drivers' ultimate dream, and you weren’t immune to that either. Unfortunately for you, Fernando released the news he was going back to Renault a week before Ferrari announced you, and the media had a field day with that, tabloids and media outlets doing numbers of articles about you avoiding being teammates with Fernando again, since he was coming back and you were conveniently leaving almost at the same time.

Your races with Fernando kept being dangerous, one always trying to one up the other, dangerous moves and overtakes, close calls of crashing into each other, and more and more jabs publicly. The attacks at each other never stopped, and the media seemed to enjoy it, feeding into it ever so often.

One occasion, you were going for a win, and the only thing between you and that damn P1 was Fernando Alonso. So you kept your P2, biding your time as you tried to close the gap, leaving your chance at overtaking for the last few laps. When a fast turn came, you advanced, overtaking him, Fernando tried to defend his position, but you were getting the lead, and both of you were in high speed. Someone had to back out, otherwise you two would crash. But you were feeding off of anger and hurt, and you didn’t back down well into the turn, but suddenly, Fernando slowed down, giving up defending. You took the P1 and after a few laps, the checkered flag. You knew on the podium that Fernando was seething, his face didn’t hide that. Later, at an interview, someone brought up the dirty move.

“So, a very dangerous move at turn 2 during lap 47, no?” The reporter asked, trying to get a reaction out of you.

“I thought it was a pretty common battle, no?” You said, a condescending tone imitating him.

“Well, it could’ve caused you both to crash.”

“I took a risk, either I would pass and win, or we would both crash and DNF. Alonso was wise and went for the safest option.” I gave the reporter a fake smile.

You knew that answer would piss Fernando off, and a part of you knew he deserved it. Sometimes you acted on pure rage and pettiness, feral and way more aggressive against Fernando on track than you really needed to be. But he just pissed you off. Walking around with his model girlfriend, his attacks at your racing abilities, his pretty eyes that always seemed to find yours at the most inconvenient times.

Then, the race weekend would end, and everything that was left was shame. Your burning shame every time your mom’s eyes shone when she asked about Fernando, hoping you two would have made peace. You, looking away from her face every time you told her you knew nothing about Alonso because you didn’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes.

Later that year, after your two year anniversary with Ricardo, you accidentally found a ring box in his suitcase. A proposal ring, a beautiful big diamond ring, probably worth a small fortune. And you tried to feel happy about it, but you could only find dread in your heart. Despite loving Ricardo, you knew you didn’t love him as much as you could. And certainly not as much as she loved you. You didn’t love him as much as you loved-

Closing your eyes, you also closed your heart, and after that just like the coward you were, you broke up with Ricardo the kindest way you could. He was confused, because your relationship was tranquil, without many problems. It broke your heart to break his heart, but you couldn’t lead him on, you knew Ricardo was husband material, and the earlier you let him go, the earlier he would find his true happiness.

Ultimately, you decided to only pursue love after your Formula One career. Having a bit of fun here and there, and a couple of casual relationships even with other drivers, but nothing serious or public. When you found out Fernando was single again, a flicker of hope sparked in your chest, but when you saw him go back to his playboy ways… It died down.

Sometimes you would dream of a different life, of one you never lost your best friend… or even better, one that you never had to suppress the love you felt for him. And sometimes it felt too much, like all this love was just filling up your hollow heart, filling up until it overflowed, until you felt like you were drowning in it, because there was nowhere for this love to go. And you wondered, what do I do with this love, there's no one to give it to, there's no recipient to put it. So you would just ground your teeth and bear it, holding onto anger because that much love, that much longing did nothing but cause you pain.

Every time someone mentioned him outside race weeks, you felt ashamed.

Despite being in a top team like Ferrari, you’d only get a few wins, and some podiums here and there, so it wasn’t like you didn’t achieve anything. But you were a woman so it was obviously not enough, and the media started questioning your career and your place in Formula One.

After two years of you driving for Ferrari, Domenicalli, your team principal, sat you down to let you know Fernando Alonso would be joining the team the next year, and you bit the inside of your cheek, considering just retiring. The criticism was getting to you, and the perspective of living hell with Fernando as your teammate was a broken heart all over again.

When an opportunity arose to drive for Red Bull Racing, with a two year contract, you didn’t think twice before accepting. It would be your chance to turn the tide in your career.

It sent the motorsport world into a frenzy when your new team announced you and a week later Ferrari announced Fernando as their future driver. The same narrative of you running away from him was passed ahead. And of course, it got to the paddock. Most drivers that were close to you actually congratulated you, but of course, nothing was ever good for Fernando. And despite not fully talking to him, he was always willing to throw a mean comment at you any given day.

“And people said you’re washed” Fernando said right after the news broke, the second to last race of that season, his voice dripping with venom. You knew it was a backhanded compliment, he always did that when he wanted to get a rise out of you. He smirked, waiting for your feral clapback, as you always had one on the tip of your tongue.

But when he looked back at you, your face was stony, and you were looking ahead with your chin raised. You didn’t even look at Fernando, nor answered his taunting. You pretended he wasn’t there but he noticed your eyes were misty.

That had been a low blow, even for him. He didn’t know shit about your feelings regarding your career, but he knew exactly how the world had been treating it, and it made you burn with shame that he could add insult to injury this easily. You wondered why he would say something like that if, just like you, it had been years since the last time he was champion of the world. Two years pushing yourself to the maximum so you could achieve your second championship.

Fernando had been your best friend for so long, he knew exactly what buttons to push when he wanted to hurt you.

When someone else arrived, greeting you, you cleared your throat briefly before answering and plastering a smile that never reached your eyes.

“Are you running away from me?” Fernando cornered you later that same day.

“What?” You paused.

“I went back to Renault and you left, now I’m going to Ferrari and you’re leaving,” he shrugged. You scoffed.

“I’m not sure if you know, but my life doesn’t revolve around you, Fernando.”

“Well, that’s a weird coincidence, don’t you think?”

“What do you want? Why are you here?”

Fernando paused for a second, his eyes searching yours, he looked vulnerable, open like he hadn’t been in so long. He looked every bit your best friend from years before.

“I miss you, I-” He started, then cleared his throat.

“I miss the old you,” You swallowed a whole bunch of your pride just to be able to say those words.

“Things are different now…” Fernando started, his eyes full of hoping, of longing, “We could- maybe we could-”

“Fernando, we’re too far gone, what we said- what we did…” You muttered, feeling a lump in your throat, “how do one come back from that?”

“We could restart. Try again-”

“You lost me forever that day, Fernando.” You muttered, the tears holding on to your eyelashes. You didn’t need to specify the day, he knew, he had seen in your eyes the moment he lost you, “I spent so long hearing your voice in my head, telling me I wasn’t good enough, I shouldn’t be here, and I- I hated you that day. And I had to hold onto this hate, because the alternative was overwhelming sadness.”

There was a numbing silence for a couple of minutes, as you stared down at your own feet, trying to stop all the feelings you spent years carefully locking away from breaking free. So much had happened, you believed you and Fernando were too far to recover now.

“I’m a woman here, the first and only woman in so long, and the whole world was against me. You have no idea how it felt that my best friend, the person I trusted the most, was also against me,” You shook your head, feeling the tears drop.

“I’m sorry, Nena… I’ve never- I’ve never meant any of that.” He muttered, and you didn’t look at him to see if he was being genuine. You had formed walls around your heart to protect yourself from heartbreak, and you now had a hard time believing him.

“There are some things… that are not meant to be.” You didn’t look back at Fernando after you said that, choosing to walk away with this broken heart feeling ever present.

It was hard to keep going everyday. You had always faced backlash for being a woman in Formula 1, and you were used to it. But the media took a turn over the next few years. When you didn’t win more championships, when years passed and you were still there, along with other champions and future champions. They started to call you old, washed, telling you to retire and placing bets on when you’d lose your seat. It was baffling because it had been six years since your championship, but it had been seven years since Fernando’s, but still, you were the only one whose spot was questioned all the time. It was unfair, and whenever they came up to you talking about it, you’d ask them if they’d ask the same to older drivers or other champions. They would leave you alone for a week and then come back stronger, ready to throw your whole career under the bus.

Finally, you got another chance at the championship in 2013, after an unbelievable start of the season with five consecutive wins. That had put you first in the standings for the championship, and from there on, your team molded the season around you. Smooth sailing through the season, you became world champion in Suzuka, way too far ahead in the championship to anyone be able to catch up to you.

When you stood on the podium that night, you cried happy tears. You had once again proved wrong years of demerit from the world. As you looked down to search for your family, your eyes found Fernando right beside them, a proud, emotional look on his face as he kept a hand over his heart, listening to your national anthem.

He nodded at you with a small smile, and a part of you healed a little bit.

You enjoyed a couple of days of pure bliss after becoming world champion. Parties, celebrations and trips, they were all you did for the next few weeks.

When the FIA Prize Giving ceremony came, you had another bombshell to drop at the world. You were the most stunning you ever felt that year when you arrived at the ceremony, in a beautiful dark blue dress with little crystals all over the bodice, a beautiful hairstyle and even more beautiful makeup. Never in your entire career in Formula 1, you had felt so fulfilled, so happy.

Hearing your name being called as the winner, the number one, was different this time, and had much more weight, and it made your heart burst with happiness. As you walked up the stairs to the stage, receiving your trophy, you stopped by the mic.

“Thank you so much. I’d like to thank my family for supporting me from the beginning, my team for making the perfect season, and the perfect car for me to be able to achieve this. I’d like to thank all my teammates that, in one way or another, taught me some valuable lessons as a racer. Thanks to Flavio for taking a chance on my career when probably no one else would.” You said, with a smile. You took a good look around, all the people in this sport who made Formula 1 the most important category of motorsport, all your peers, all the teams. “I’m announcing my retirement from Formula 1, as of right now.”

There was a wave of shock and loud gasps in the whole room, flashes and flashes bulbing harder than before, journalists scrambling to take notes… But you kept smiling, hand firm around your trophy as you let the news settle down before speaking again.

“In 2007 I wanted to pay Flavio back for giving me the opportunity to be here today. That debt was paid that same year. After that year I wanted to win for myself, to write my name in the history books, and my dream is now realized. I feel like I should move on and make space for new upcoming talents.” Your eyes were wet with unshed tears, but you smiled, the first genuine smile in a few years.

Fernando felt his heart drop at your words. Things weren’t supposed to go like this, you two should be best friends, drive together, retire together. Go down in history together.

“I’m grateful for everything this sport provided me, the adventures, traveling around the world, the people I met and the people I lost,” there was a calm pause, and Fernando wondered if you were talking about him too, “Now it’s time to go and achieve new dreams. Thank you very much.”

You turned around and walked away under the applause.

Later, after the ceremony was done, you were getting ready to leave when Fernando came to find you. He was dressed in a beautiful suit, looking like a million dollar man.

“Nena…”

It made you pause. It had been a while since he called you like that with that specific tone. 

“What? Came here to gloat?” You couldn’t help but be defensive, worried.

“What?”

“I knew you’d be one of the happiest when I retired.”

“No, I would not-”

“You would, Fernando. You did. Many times you said I was done, that my prime was over, that I should retire…” 

“I never thought you’d easily give up!” He shouted at you, “Like you did in 2006, not competing against me.”

“That’s because they didn’t let me compete! Do you think I couldn’t have competed with you back in ‘06? I could, but every time, they would tell me to back off, to let you pass, to not fight you, to not overtake you-” You threw at his face, because you wouldn’t stand there and let him look down on you like that. You refused to back down now that you were finally free. “Pat threatened my seat if disobeyed team orders.”

“What?! Why did you never tell me that?” Fernando looked shocked. His fighting stance was completely gone now.

“You were going to be World Champion again. I would never take that from you,” You whispered, voice failing.

“Nena…” He said, like he wanted to drop everything. “Please, don’t leave. If Red Bull don’t want you, you can find another spot with another team, we can think of something.”

“Fernando, I’m not leaving because the team doesn't want me. In fact, they offered me a 3 year extension.”

“That’s not how it was supposed to go, remember? We planned that-” His voice was kinder than it had been to you in many years, “We would go down in history together. Win together, retire together.”

“When push comes to shove, only one wins… We learned that the hard way.” I say, with a sad smile, “Life doesn’t always go as planned. And I got everything I could ever want from Formula 1. Now it’s time for new stuff.”

“What new stuff?”

“I want to have a family, Fernando. People don’t stick around long for this lifestyle, you know that-” You shook your head.

With one last look at Fernando, your eyes watered, and you walked away.

Sitting on the porch, you looked up at the sky, thinking of what’s next for you. It had been months since you announced your retirement from Formula 1. The new season had already begun. It was your birthday, a refreshing new one.

You heard steps coming closer and your heartbeat sped up as you saw Fernando walking up to you. He sat down by your side, holding a pint of ice cream and two spoons. He handed one to you and in silence, you started eating ice cream.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said after a few minutes of silence.

“Was it hard to find me?” You asked, with a tentative smile.

“It only took me my whole life to find you again…” He said, wistfully, his eyes shining under moonlight and you didn’t know if those were unshed tears or not, “my best friend, my nena, my girl…”

“I’ve always been here. Right here.” You said, eyes watering. You weren’t sure you could explain what that here meant, but somehow you knew he would understand.

Fernando took your hand, gently placing it on his chest, right above his heart.

“Right here,” he whispered, pressing his hand above yours, over his beating heart, “you were always here.”

Then, he kissed you. For the first time in more than a decade, for what felt like the first time for both of you. As his other hand pulled you closer, the kiss deepened, like a prayer and a promise. Both of you knew there was a lot of resentment to navigate through, and a lot of feelings you’d both have to unravel and understand. But there was one thing that was always there, through hate, anger and hurt… And it was love, unshaken, steadfast love.

As you broke apart, Fernando pulled you into him, hugging you tight for a few minutes, before pulling away to hold your face with both hands, his eyes looking into yours with so much devotion it melted everything away.

“We will be alright.”

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#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #f1 #fernando alonso #formula one #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #brocedes #formula 1 fic #formula one fanfiction

[arminsumi]

OFFICE PLAYTIME

↳ NANAMI ななみ + fem!reader

"...I think you deserve a raise..."

1.3k

Summary : Nanami and his secretary... doing "work" in his office.

Warnings : 🔞 minors do not interact/read : smut/explicit content : daddy kink, unprotected sex, public setting (office sex), secretary x boss trope, namecalling (wh*re, sl*ut, +++), taboo fantasy (sexual relationship with your boss), creampie, m*sturbation (reader), sex on desk, blowjob, mean dom Nanami + soft sweetheart Nanami, praise, dirty talk, light humiliation, horny!reader, implied breeding kink, referring to c*m as "baby batter"

Note : this came from the heart 👍 i love boss nanami. and he's my true daddy (the rest r fake!!!!!) even if i don't write much for him. reqs open. bring me nanami thank u!

"Daddy... I n-need you..."

Nanami raises his brows, looking down at you pawing his clothed bulge while he's sat in his office doing paperwork. His throat constricts as his length starts hardening under your touch.

"Hm, what? What does my angel need?"

You squeeze the outline of his shaft and nearly moan.

"I need you to fuck me..."

"... well aren't you vulgar?" he stifles a laugh. "Alright. Work for it."

"But I need it so bad!"

"Work for it."

"Please, I'm so wet, j-just stuff your cock in me..."

He finally lets out a laugh, and firmly grabs your hand to stop your movements. "You're being such a slut today. Is it because I fucked you raw this morning? Hm? Is that it? I know it is. You're just a cock hungry slut. Is that right? You just want your boss to fuck you instead of putting that brain to work."

"Daddy's s-so mean..." you sigh erotically. Your bedroom eyes make his tip twitch. He practices self-discipline and refrains from shoving his dick down your throat right then.

He lifts your chin, making you look at him. "But you're the one with a kink for it, aren't you? You begged for me to be meaner. So now I will be. And that wasn't a suggestion... that was a command... work for it, slut."

Nanami looks at you coldly while you rip off his belt eagerly and thumb over his leaky cockhead. He's a silent man. So eliciting a groan or erotic noise from him means you're really doing something good... or maybe he's just sensitive. Or both.

"Such a pretty face... and a slutty mouth." he husks as you lower your lips down his cockhead, swirling your tongue around and around and relishing in the feeling of his meaty cock.

"Daddy..." you try to speak om his cock, and he groans at the vibration of your voice. That nickname drives him insane. He's not been much of a kinky man, but calling him daddy? He insisted you do it from day one. It's his weakness but he won't admit it.

He stoically observes you sucking his cock. "How's that pretty hole feeling? Eager to get stuffed I bet."

You nod and sputter "mhm!", your saliva and spit sloppily dripping down his cock. He admires the sight of your mouth being wide open and filled to the brim with his cock, what's a better way to spend boring office hours than with his secretary on his knees like this?

His big manly hand goes to the back of your head and helps you work up and down on his length, making you take more than you can handle while you whorishly smile.

"Damn slut... imagine if your coworkers knew you called your boss "daddy". Do you think they'd still respect you if they knew you were a fucking whore for me? Bet you'd love for them to walk in on you while you get your throat stuffed like this... f-fuck..."

He broke his stoic expression for a moment when he felt a particularly good pang of pleasure shoot through his cock. Nanami usually has lots of stamina, but when when he's using your throat in his office... well the naughty circumstance makes him bust quickly.

You feel him pulse as he creampies your throat, holding you down on it to make sure not a drop of his precious baby batter is wasted.

"Fuuuck... that's a good little slut..."

You frantically dip your finger into your hole and massage it. It's so sensitive even teasing feels too good.

"Don't play with that pussy without daddy's permission." Nanami seethes.

He forces you to stand up and folds you over his desk roughly, carelessly. A stapler and pen box crashes to the carpeted floor and some coworkers turn their heads, but then return back to focusing in their cubicle.

"Sh-shit... you're this wet for me...? Nasty whore. I'll fuck you good. You better be quiet or you're fired, understood?" he threatens half-heartedly while rubbing his cock sideways on your pussy, slapping and rubbing it through your slit a few times.

And you swallow an erotic squeal as he plunges his meaty cock into your eager pussy. Just the sensation of his length gliding past your folds sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body.

"Da—ddyyy! Fuck! You're so fucking big!" you exclaim.

"Sh-shit... not so loud, not so loud... ghnnnn..." he stifles a grunt and starts pounding into your clingy pussy.

A sloppy slapping sound echoes off his office walls, but he can't slow down or go easier on you; it feels way too good. And you're being too slutty for him to think straight. So what if people hear him fucking his secretary? He doesn't care what anyone thinks when he's balls deep in your hole.

"Fuck that's it... that's it... just let yourself feel me. Feel daddy split you open... oh, god that slutty little hole is gripping me so good today..."

He grits his teeth and holds in his groans. A few grunts slip past his lips, it sounds like they come from deep within his chest.

"I'm gonna cu—mmmmf!"

"Then cum and shut the fuck up. Don't need to announce it to the whole office, do you? Or does thought that make you wanna cum even more?"

His words bring you over the edge. He gulps at the sight, because truly it's so beautiful to see your body freak out while orgasming.

"Fuck... oh you're such a good secretary for daddy; I think you deserve a raise." he groans, pressing a heated kiss to your lips.

Your face is so purely erotic. He's entranced by the way your pussy contracts and squeezes tightly, nearly clamping down on his dick.

"That's it... fuck! Ahhh, milk daddy's dick. Milk me with that slutty hole. Take my creampie."

Just as he cums, you cum too, rubbing sluttily on your clit; it totally breaks him to feel your sweet pussy convulsing around his slick shaft. You feel him pumping cum deep into your hole, his cockhead throbbing scaldingly hot as he snuggles it against a sweet spot.

"Ooh... good girl... good fuckin' g-girl..." he slides out, admiring the sheen on your pussy and the cum streaking his cock.

He soothes your shaking body with his big hands, placing a tender kiss on you.

"You're so cute when you're a horny slut." he gives a light smack to your thigh.

You giggle and let out a small noise as his cock slides out with a pop. There's a string of thick cum connecting from his cockhead to your slit, it drips slowly and melts against your hole.

Nanami's frown is so funny, but he's serious about not wasting his baby batter. He fingers it into you slowly.

"Tighten up. Don't wanna see another drop spill out." he commands. "You did say you wanted daddy's babies this morning, didn't you?"

You nod. "Yeah~"

"Good girl. Now get back to work."

Nanami helps you clean up and compose yourself before shoving you out of his office with a playfulness.

He's trying to focus on his papers, but ohm.. your juices soaked them. And now he's thinking about how you're sitting at your secretary desk with his creampie oozing out of your loosened hole.

"Fuck..." he mutters under his breath.

He texts you a short message;

📨 1 NEW FROM : KENTO NANAMI

Check your balance. Use it to buy a pretty outfit. I'm pampering you tonight, so rest up. ❤️ — Daddy

#mdni #smut #kento nanami #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami kento smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #kento smut #kento nanami smut #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami x fem reader #nanami x y/n #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami

[killerpancakeburger]

Being Ghost's BFF Headcanons

(while also dating Soap cause you deserve the best of both worlds)

If you told anyone that Ghost was your favorite person to see in the morning, they'd write you off as clinically insane. Or laugh in your face. It didn't make it any less true though. When you don't want anyone speaking to you before you had your coffee, the Ghost feels heaven-sent. Others might see it as rude, but you're content with him acknowledging your presence with a nod of head or by raising his mug of tea in your direction.

You've never been afraid of him - more like displaying a healthy apprehension towards a guy exceeding 1m90, weighing over 100kg, and hiding his face.

After spending a couple hours with him, you quickly came up to a new conclusion about him: he just had a resting bitch face. Just because he had a deep voice and a monotonous tone didn't mean he was angry 24/7. He treated people how he wanted to be treated. He had high expectations for himself and for others/teammates. All in all, a pretty reasonable guy.

You like to think he started to respect you for your combat skills and experience, but evidence pointed to the fact that he began to look at you differently after seeing you decisively slap Soap in the face to wake him up after he passed out from blood loss.

There had been a few milestones in your relationship: when he told you a bad joke for the first time (you briefly thought you were having an aneurysm), when he told you to call him Simon (in private), when he awkwardly tried to cheer you up by patting you on the shoulder (first time he touched you outside of combat/training).

Outside of missions, the time you spent together was divided between shooting matches on the training grounds and hanging out with a smoke at night when both of you struggled to sleep. He was one of the rare men not pulling any punches against you, allowing to enjoy the competition freely. Soap tried time and time again to stay awake to join you two, but failed systematically.

Acting like a divorced couple with Soap as the kid you have shared custody of. "Yer man escaped medical again" "Before 6 a.m he is YOUR man, Lieutenant"

Frequently finding yourselves shouting both at the same time: "English, MacTavish!" In the same exasperated tone.

You can handle yourself, and Ghost is perfectly aware of that. That doesn't stop him from standing behind you menacingly like the Grim reaper himself when he thinks someone's taking too many liberties with you.

If Soap's a golden retriever when he's in a good mood, Ghost reminds of your parents' cat: silent, deadly, and shows affection by deigning to occasionally hang out in the same room as you.

You always carry a spare mask for him; and he wears spare hair ties on the wrist - plain, black ones. Cannot mess with his vibe.

People keeps asking how you managed to have a relationship with "The Ghost", and your answer is very simple: "learn when to shut the fuck up".

A/N:

Me in the beginning: I'm only gonna write Soap content

Ghost:

Me: Oh FFS

BONUS:

When Ghost told you a bad joke for the first time:

You still remembered the joke incident vividly: you were on a mission together, just the two of you, and as you were focusing more than usual, anxious to disappoint him or to be a liability, you suddenly heard in your com: "Ye heard the rumour 'bout butter?"

If Ghost's voice hadn't been unmistakable, you would have thought he had been killed and replaced by someone else.

"What (the fuck)", you exhaled, not because you wanted to know about butter, but because you had no idea what the hell was happening. The fact that his tone was exactly the same as usual - deadpan, flat - contributed to making you feel insane.

"Nah, I shouldn't be spreadin' it". was the answer. Torn between demanding explanations and not wanting to commit a faux pas, you replied the way you replied to your parents' bad jokes:

"Ha. Ha. Haha...?" 

The seasoned killer on the other side of the mic didn't seem to mind, but you texted Soap in panic as soon as your butt touched the helicopter's seat.

“JOHNNY”

"Sup hen"

"Cannae go wan mission without missing me, ae? ;)"

"Did Ghost hit his head recently??"

"Negative Ma'am" "Why? Did something happen??"

"He told me a dad joke. A fucking dad joke."

"😂 Thats kinda his thing"

"thought I was losing it"

"Congrats, ye can consider yerself stamped wit The Ghost seal of approval"

"Ok? Cool???"

"Mah too favourite people gittin along" *trails of smiling emojis and hearts*

#mine #cod #cod headcanons #cod hcs #ghost headcanons #simon ghost riley #call of duty #call of duty headcanons #headcanon #writers on tumblr #simon riley #ghost cod #cod ghost #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #cod soap #cod x reader