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#but when she's like 'is that a joke...' being completely serious
leevstheworld · 19 hours
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⚠ CONTENT WARNING — smut. Pure smut. (And some fluff?) p in v, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!); fingering, oral (fem receiving), Max Verstappen is a mean asshole in the paddock but a softie out of it (mostly); praise, lots of praise, mentions of alcohol and drinking; badly translated Dutch (sorryyy); reader is AFAB fem identifying. MDNI 18+.
Author's note: Sometimes Max Verstappen does things to me I cannot describe. The idea came to me and I just started writing. Also the reader is part of Scuderia Ferrari because, eheh, forza Ferrari. (Gonna write Leclerc stuff as well soon, watch me.)
All it takes is a win — Max Verstappen (Formula 1) x Scuderia Ferrari!(fem)Reader (SMUT)
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Being a Formula 1 driver was anything but easy.
Sure, you had your moments when you'd spend time with the grid filming funny videos for the fans and doing weird challenges — but, once you had to get serious, the workouts and practice snapped you back to reality.
You were now part of Scuderia Ferrari — it's been a few months since you joined, and your teammates, Charles and Carlos, weren't all that bad, cracking jokes and pulling pranks on another like some high schoolers. You felt like home with them, laughing 'til morning when you'd celebrate each Grand Prix, getting drunk and all.
Your biggest issue was, however, your boyfriend.
Relationships in the grid were mostly kept a secret — you didn't need the news to holler with spicy details of the well-known Formula 1 drivers, so much for the reporters keeping an eye on all of you 24/7. If there was anything going on, it stayed within the paddock.
So, apart from Charles and Carlos, who found out against their will, nobody knew you were dating Max Verstappen. The world champion. The best of the best, or whatever made his ego inflate.
One issue you had about your boyfriend was that he'd be too cruel and unforgiving during race week. He didn't mean no harm, but it did hurt when he always expected you to do better, as he was personally involved in your training as a driver. It's like he wasn't pleased with you at all, and, Hell, even Charles told him to take it easy.
"Hey, no," the Monégasque spoke out when Max was halfway through one of his tirades again, "let Y/N be. She's learning throughout." His arms crossed, staring the Dutch down, in spite of his usual relaxed expression.
Carlos joined in, getting a bit concerned about the situation. "You can't be ordering her around like this. Trust me, we all learned in our own ways." This only earned a frustrated huff from Max, walking away from the scene as if nothing had happened in the first place — and you swore you could feel your heart beat through your Nomex underwear and Ferrari race suit.
You didn't even register when half of the season went by you — and, soon enough, you were ready to participate in the Austrian Grand Prix.
The race went smoother than expected — you were fully focused, your signature red Ferrari car driving past the others, smoothly operating (ha) the machine as if it was made for you.
The realization dawned onto you as the race ended and you completed your last lap, noticing only two cars past the finish line — the Red Bull cars, which were Max and Checo's.
You came third place.
Exiting the car as soon as you thought of it, you looked around, taking your helmet and balaclava off and feeling the fresh air on your sweaty face, hearing the overjoyed crowd around you.
You didn't even see when Max came and embraced you with all of his might, only noticing the joy in his eyes through his helmet. Checo followed suit, giving you a friendly embrace and congratulating you, to which you replied with the same approach.
You heard the announcer beam through the speakers, feeling pure happiness course through your veins. "And L/N comes third place on the grid, Ferrari makes its way on the podium by the end of the Austrian Grand Prix..."
This is worth celebrating, right?, the small voice in your head asked itself, unsure whether your boyfriend's reaction from earlier was genuine or not.
You've long changed out of your race suit and into your usual clothing, waiting in the hotel room for the hours to pass so you'd attend tonight's party; you shook hands and embraced way more people than you probably thought existed in the perimeter of the circuit and the paddock, eventually coming in your hotel room soaked from the habitual champagne bath on the podium — you were sticky, but happy.
After taking a shower, you got to this point, scrolling on your phone and reading the news pages about the race from earlier, smiling to yourself. You couldn't help but sulk when you noticed Max on each photo on-line, wondering if he was truly proud of you, if this even mattered to him.
Then, as if Max read your mind, he texted you, your phone buzzing in your hand.
'Where are you?'
You answered back, your digits tapping away on the screen.
'In my hotel room, why?'
On the other side of the phone, Max was still in the paddock, slightly frowning at your change in mood — you were on the podium, you came third place! Was there something wrong? Did you want to do better?
'Why did you leave all of a sudden?'
You reply immediately, 'The party's only later tonight. There's no point hanging around until then. I'm getting rest.' You knew you were lying — you didn't feel that tired, being used to the schedule and all. You just didn't want to endure another of Max's scoldings.
As if he read through your excuses, he types, 'Ok, I'm coming over.' You sighed at Max's response — sometimes, even outside the circuit, he was way too stubborn.
The door to your hotel room opened, as you didn't bother locking it; in comes Max, having, too, stripped of his race suit in exchange for more comfortable clothes, wearing a T-shirt and jeans. His blue eyes don't roam around the room — they look directly at you, in your direction. "What happened?" He asked, still seemingly puzzled by your change in behaviour.
The man sits on your bed, next to you, waiting for an answer; he still didn't bother leaving his race mannerisms where they belonged, still being oh so demanding. You don't bother responding; that is, until his hand finds your jaw and cups it so you can face his direction.
"Speak to me." He speaks out, tone still demanding, and you sigh, giving in to the man who was, although an ass sometimes, your boyfriend. Yours.
"Are you proud of me?" Your voice came out as meek, already expecting the worst answer; you can see Max's eyes slightly widen, taking in the information he needed from that question.
"So that's what it was?" Max spoke no higher than a whisper, his gaze softening. "Do you seriously think I'm not proud of you, schat?¹" And, as you shook your head, he realizes just what you're talking about, your reaction and the way you didn't dare face him.
"No, no, Y/N.." He moves onto the bed so he can hold you, shifting the two of you so your face buried in his chest, strong arms enveloping you in a warm embrace. "No, it's not like that. I am proud of you. I'm proud of every single thing you do, lieverd.²" Your lack of response concerns Max further, and he removes you from his warm embrace, looking into your eyes. "Please believe me."
You couldn't. You speak out, "Then why are you so cruel to me? Why do you keep bossing over everything I do?" His breathing stops for a moment, now knowing your perspective. "No, I don't mean it like that.. I am trying to help, I know how demanding Ferrari can be." His lips come in contact with your cheek, peppering small kisses on your face. "Schat, no— I just want to help, please— 'm sorry."
You feel yourself melt in Max's embrace; however, you couldn't shake any of the things that have happened before. "You're too cruel." You repeat, voice softening until it can't be heard anymore. "I know, I know", the Dutch speaks, palpable regret in his voice. "'m sorry, liefde.³ I'll do better," his words started sounding reassuring, "promise."
"Y/N— I'm especially proud of you for today. You came third place, and this was a tougher race. You did it, I'm so proud, I promise you", the man spoke between kisses, now placed on your jaw and lips. "Promise, I promise."
You went forward to taste his lips more — sweet, soft and a slight tang of victory champagne — and your eyes fluttered shut, Max's hands moving from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you in closer, even closer than imaginable; he sighed in relief, although you might be, a bit, still mad at him for not showing enough support this season.
"Come on," the blonde pulled away, a string of saliva still connecting your lips with his, "let me show you. Let- please, let me show you how proud I am, schat. Please." He looked at you with soft eyes and a slightly parted mouth, slight blush on his cheeks as he fiddled with the waistband of your sweatpants. "Promise, I promise I'm proud. So proud, liefde, I promise you."
You were sure Max didn't drink apart from a few sips of champagne, and you didn't even partake in the celebration other than bathing with the alcohol instead of ingesting it. The decision prompted you to give Max a nod, and he complies, your lips meeting once more, with more hunger, as his hands shimmied your sweatpants down to expose your underwear. He followed suit, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, tugging them down just enough to get to his boxers, hardening member confined under the cotton material.
His kisses trailed on your jaw and neck, lips sucking on the soft flesh enough to make your breath hitch, and he hummed in response, tongue sliding over the soon-forming hickeys to compensate. "So sweet, schat", he spoke against the skin of your neck, making you shiver in his hold, his lips moving further down on your collarbone before nearly yanking the shirt off your body, relishing in the fact that you weren't wearing a bra.
"Your body is so pretty", he sighs out, lazy smile on his face as he seemed like he was talking to himself, making a mental note of how pretty you thought you were. "And so ready for me", he now hummed against your sensitive, hardened nipple as he wrapped his lips around it, giving it a nice, gentle suck; Max loved hearing you whimper like that, a sign that he was doing everything right.
When your hand reached for his cock, palming it through his underwear, Max stopped, his breath hitching in his throat before looking at you, aroused and slightly glad you were considering his pleasure as well; however, now was not the time. "Y/N, it's my turn to make you feel good", he gently told you, taking your hand off his shaft, which you were sure throbbed under your very touch. "We'll.. we'll do me later, yeah? I want to make you feel good." He continues pressing soft kisses on your body, enjoying how you shuddered merely from his lips, and how your hands went in his hair to give it a gentle tug.
Max's hair smelled like shampoo, soft and silky under your touch, as you had two handfuls of the blonde locks in your very hands. He hums in response, nearly bewildered internally at the fact that so little did so much to you, and made sure he'll make you do more than just tug on the strands.
When he got low enough, Max switched positions with you, his large hands setting you on the bed just where he was sitting moments ago — he got on his stomach, pressing his lips against the material of your underwear. The teasing came to a halt when he tugged it down completely, discarding it somewhere, and the sight alone made Max grow harder, his aching cock pressed against the mattress, and he tasked himself just how he'd managed to be together with someone so beautiful. If perfect wasn't the right word to describe a human being, he coined that term just for you, and you only, ever since he laid eyes on you.
"So wet, schat", Max exhaled on your clit, and you sighed out, the hot air from his mouth blowing right against your sensitive spot. Prying your legs open further and holding onto your thighs, Max dove deeper up against your clit, licking long strands with the flat of his tongue and alternating with the tip, then moving upwards to your nub, giving it a gentle suck. He wasn't surprised when you moaned out loud, but rather entranced — one of his hands left your thigh and got to rubbing the bundle of nerves as he lapped hungrily at your clit. "You taste so good, Y/N. So good for me, letting me make you feel this good", he groaned out, getting pleasure just from eating you out, feeling his underwear stain with drips of precum. "Fuck— so sweet, so fucking good f'me, so perfect, Y/N" — if words didn't make you feel anything, now they did, because Max's tone of voice was nearly desperate; not to get himself off, but to make you come on his tongue and face.
Out of instinct, your hips thrusted forward, something you've never done — Max's words have never had this much of an effect on you, not that they didn't — and his eyes widened in silent amazement, looking up at you with a slight chuckle. "Feels good, hm?" He gives you a teasing lick up your clit, looking right in your eyes as he did so, enjoying how flushed your face was and how your eyes closed as soon as his tongue made contact with the sensitive area. "Mhmm.. Max, please, I want to come," you pleaded, and he complied.
"Anything for my champion. Anything f'you, schatje⁴", Max moaned against your clit, moving down as his tongue penetrated your cunt, feeling how wet you were and how much more wet you can get, the warmth of your insides sending delicious sparks right down to his cock. "Y/N, so fucking good..." He hushed against your entrance, tongue then going in and out at a faster pace while his digits were working on your nub, thumb rubbing in circles until you couldn't take it anymore, screaming out his name and coming on his mouth and tongue.
The Dutch hummed in appreciation of his own skills, then looking up at your fucked out expression with a teasing look, placing one last kiss on your puffy clit despite your whimpers, still oversensitive. When he kissed you, his tongue sliding in your mouth to massage yours, you could feel your taste on his buds, and it made you ache yet more, legs closing in to squeeze your thighs from the overall sensation. Max noticed — he hummed against you, fingers going down to your pussy and then right inside of you, coating them with slick as they pumped in and out.
You broke the kiss through erratic whimpers, feeling overwhelmed by the sensations, but you had to admit that Max's fingers, now curling against your G-spot, felt better than his tongue, reaching so much further inside you — he breathily whispered in your ear, his other hand toying with your nipple, "You like it, hm? Vind je het leuk hoe ik je neuk, schat?⁵", and you let out an almost audible 'yes', hearing him chuckle to himself. "C'mon, Y/N, take it like a champ, huh? Like the champion you are. So pretty, my pretty Y/N."
Before you know it, you came a second time around his fingers, and the Dutch fucked you through another of your orgasms, then taking his fingers out of your hole to lick them clean almost obscenely, making a slight 'mmf' sound when his taste buds made contact with your juices.
"Think you can take me now?" Giving him a nod, he continues, "You deserve me, you deserve my whole cock, huh, liefde?", Max lowly spoke, his voice getting breathier as he takes off his underwear; his cock, aching and as hard as it could get, was leaking small drips of pre-cum, and he sighed at the feeling of not having his obvious arousal confined any longer.
"'m so hard for you, Y/N." He aligned himself to your cunt, taking your legs and placing them on his shoulders. "God, so good, so perfect — all mine, my champion, yeah?" You nod, but that wasn't enough; Max took his cock in his hand again, slapping your clit with it and earning a muffled whine from you. "Say it. Come on, schat." He encourages you.
"I'm... I'm all yours, Max- your champion, I'm your champion", you made the effort to sound self-reassuring, to which Max kissed your forehead, responding with a soothing pitch in his voice.
"You are, Y/N. I'm so proud of you. For everything you have done and for everything that you are, I'm proud of you, yeah?" He peppered you with kisses, slowly entering inside you, and you gasp — getting used to Max was a repetitive mannerism, as he'd stretch you out oh so nicely around his cock. You felt it throb as Max's balls hit right under your cunt, and he kept gasping and whispering in your ear about how much he loves you — and you loved him, too.
As soon as you adjusted to his size, Max started moving his hips, pulling out just enough to leave the tip inside you then slam back inside — no, the domineering, rough side of him didn't remain in the paddock as intended. Soon enough, the bed creaked with both of your bodies' movements alone — the wooden headboard of the hotel bed hitting the wall whenever the Dutch would thrust inside of you, deeper, faster.
"There we go", Max spoke in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, his voice having dropped to a mere, husky whisper — "Vind je dit leuk, mijn liefste?⁶" His hands found your legs, squeezing the fat of your thighs as he kept fucking you, so sweetly but roughly, making sure you'd feel today's win for days after this.
You let out a shaky moan at the mixture of feelings — anger from earlier, dissipating in the overwhelming pleasure and sensitivity, as Max had fucked you raw through the build-up of another orgasm. Looking up at him, his entranced expression, how he looked so ready to let loose and fill you up with his cum, was so arousing, and you couldn't help but reach your hands to cup his jaw, fingers running around the stubble on his face; he gives you a satisfied, self-confident smile, mouth parting exactly when his head falls down, letting out moans of his own.
"Hell, schat, gonna come so deep inside you. Yeah? So proud of you, s'fucking proud, you deserve my cum, all of it, Y/N", Max gasped out, trying to maintain his composure just enough to praise you through it all, to make you feel self-reassured and proud of yourself. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he let out a guttural moan as he pumped hot, sticky cum inside of you, filling you up — you felt yourself come around his cock, squeezing him of what it's worth, milking him until he couldn't come anymore.
His body fell on top of yours — he still had his tee on, and you were bare naked under him, both sweaty and still recovering from each other's highs. "Ik houd van jou⁷, Y/N. I'm proud of you, yeah?" You heard Max, although muffled from his face being buried in the pillow, right next to your head, and you smiled to yourself, one of his hands finding your hair to caress it, and your hands rubbing on his back gently.
"I love you, too, Max." Indeed, your win was worth celebrating.
TRANSLATED DUTCH WORDS/PHRASES
1 — schat = dear/darling, also translates as 'treasure'
2 — lieverd = also darling, word expressing endearment
3 — liefde = love
4 — schatje = baby
5 — "Do you like how I fuck you, dear?"
6 — "Do you like this, my dear?"
7 — "I love you."
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 17 hours
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Part one
Part two
Part three
Part four
Mean Eddie series, part five.
Mdni. This is a tiny bit angsty but mostly complete fluff because I think we need that after the last four parts. 💞
This is the final part.
If you have any requests then let me know 💞
💌💞
You approach Eddie during lunch. He immediately stops chatting to his friends and gives you his full attention. Fuck what were you doing? Did you really want to give Eddie the chance to hurt you again?
He must have left the flowers for a reason though and you're determined to find out why. Was it his way of an apology? An olive branch? Did it mean he missed you?
Fuck. The constant loop of anxiety and questions were making you stressed. His eyes light up when he sees you and you're sure you're experiencing whiplash. One minute he was an asshole then the next he was excited to see you?
Be strong. Don't be fooled by those pretty eyes again, you steel yourself and ignore the way your heart skips a beat. You can do this.
"I got your flowers. They were beautiful, thank you. It's not going to fix you being an asshole though" Eddie smiles softly and nods.
"I know that princess. I just wanted to make you smile", ooh he could be a charmer when he wanted to be.
"Wait, what the hell is going on?" Mike asks confused and Dustin rolls his eyes along with Lucas and Gareth.
"Dude, wake up. There's obviously something going on there. Do I have to tell you everything?" Dustin sighs exasperated and Mike looks between you and Eddie.
"She's from the dark side" he yelps and Eddie fixes Mike with a warning look. "Yeah, no shit Wheeler, I don't want to hear one word against her. You got it?"
Mike nods and you can't help but be amused and slightly touched by Eddie's protectiveness. Still could he not have been more like this earlier?
"Could you not have had that attitude earlier Eddie?" His cheeks darken and he holds your gaze.
"I'm sorry sweetheart. I've been a dick but I'll make it up to you. However long it takes for you to forgive me. I'll wait"
...
💌
Eddie is endlessly patient, he picks you up from school every day and takes you home. He kisses your hand before you head into your house and says, "Until next time sweetheart"
It's lovely but there's still the fact the two of you really need to talk and the next time that he drives you home you turn to him and ask to talk.
"Eddie, so much has happened and I need to know what we are, I'm confused. One minute you're blowing hot and cold and now you...
Eddie intertwines his fingers with yours "I miss you" he murmurs and you're confused.
"But you said this was just sex. Nothing has changed" he swallows and his brown eyes soften when they look at you.
"That's what I thought, but not anymore, I miss being with you" you've dared to hope before and got your heart broken. You can't keep doing this to yourself.
"You miss the sex" you murmur and he shakes his head looking frustrated.
"Yeah I do because it's fucking mind-blowing princess but I miss you. Being with you, your giggles and your sweetness and just you. I miss you" oh. Well fuck.
Could he not have realised this any sooner, you wipe away your tears and hesitantly step forward and slip your hand through Eddie's. He tightens the hold and brings your hand up to his lips, kisses over your knuckles softly.
"Munson. You have shitty timing" you joke but there is a tiny bloom in your chest of elation.
"I know, I could have figured my shit out way sooner princess but I want this to work. I'm serious" you can tell and squeeze his hand.
"No more fuck ups. I mean it Eddie" you warn him and he gives you a sweet smile.
"Milady, you will be spoiled rotten and treated like the princess you are" his eyes are full of reverence and you can tell he means it.
"Well my brave knight, take me to your castle" he obliges and you head off to his.
💞
Six months later.
"Eddie be serious" you giggle as he trails off from where he was reading you The Hobbit and kisses you, peppers kisses over your forehead and cheeks then your lips.
"Can I help it that my girl is so beautiful and I want to kiss her all the time?" Charmer. You snuggle closer to him and he strokes your hair,
"Love you princess" he says as he holds your gaze and he makes your heart soar and gives you that pesky butterflies, giddy feeling.
"I love you too Eds" he's still smiling, all cute dimples and sweetness. There's a storm outside and it adds to the cozy atmosphere as you snuggle closer to him and he continues to read to you.
Six months since the day you gave Eddie a second chance and every day feels like heaven.
💞💞
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shepherds-of-haven · 2 days
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hi!! So. i like writing for Trouble and my MC but i spend so much time clowning on him and making up silly scenarios that now i have no idea how to write him actually catching on to one of the moves she makes and what kinds of moves he cant explain away. Please do you have any tips or crumbs to throw my way to help? I need to write him making out sloppy style w my girl PLEASE!!
Anyway I really love shoh and I think about Trouble and my MC almost every day so tysm for the lovely gift of him <3 i also wrote this ask intending to be silly but if it sounds demanding or rude i am SO sorry I would never demand anything of u and will love anything you may kr may not respond with whether that be in 17 minutes or 17 years 🩵
Aw, thank you so much for this sweet message, it made me so happy to receive! 💖 Please don't worry about sounding rude at all, your words were so kind and made me grin ear-to-ear, so thank you!
To answer your question, I like this excerpt from the old novels to explain how I think Trouble can be in a romance: I usually envision him being casual or friendly and light-hearted, and then catching onto something--some shift in the mood or a lingering glance--and then kind of abruptly shifting into a more intense version of himself. It's not a side of himself he shows very often--we're mostly exposed to the goofy, jocular Trouble, but that 'intense' dominant Trouble is there, lurking underneath it all, and that's kind of the part that he struggles with because it's also tied up in his ferocious past and his temper. It's the same Trouble who can go from smiling and laughing with his friends in a bar to completely unsmiling and intimidating when he overhears some guy being a dickhead to a server nearby, except obviously in these scenarios it's sexual/romantic tension he's responding to (even if he doesn't fully know it's that) rather than regular like situational tension. I don't know if you have access to the alpha build, but the scene in the cave in Chapter 7 when he's warming up MC's hands or the abrupt change from "yay we're having fun" to "something just happened" in his latest day off (when Cordy flirts with you) are good examples of this, too! This sort of stilted "everything is great 95% of the time and then 5% of the time something happens and he can't control it" that's impeding him and MC's easy friendship is what's really throwing Trouble for a loop; he starts to feel guilty and confused and tormented about it because he thinks he's the only one feeling these things and getting in the way of what should be a smooth companionship, so he's just... feeling a lot of things and not knowing what to do with them, lol.
So I imagine 'heated makeout' tends to happen during one of these sudden changes to 'intense Trouble,' when he catches on to something he can't ignore--but I generally don't think it happens because of an outright flirtation or hint of MC's, because he can usually just laugh those off as them just joking around, so he doesn't really respond to those like one might expect? He's dazzlingly good at not catching on to things like that (short of an outright serious confession), so maybe that's why you're having trouble imagining it! I tend to imagine it happening entirely randomly, during some moment of unthinking intimacy, like in the cave in Chapter 7 or during a mission when emotions are high or something like that. Here's another example of what I'm thinking of!
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...Or something like that, idk lol! Obviously take all of this with a huge grain of salt and don't let me influence you; however you write Trouble and MC's romance is fantastic! Hopefully some of these tips help you in some way!
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oflgtfol · 9 days
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i fucking hate old men tell me why this old ass white grandpa cornered me at my job to harass me about joe biden and how donald trump will save the world
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coockie8 · 5 months
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People smugly blocking parking spots with their body to save them for someone else is why I'm glad I don't drive.
Catch me with that shit on a bad day, and you're going home in a body bag, sweetie, life in prison be damned idgaf
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Infernal Shadows
Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.
Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.
Song for this chapter: The world we knew by Frank Sinatra.
A/N: I wanna make this a three part short story, so if anyone is interested in being tagged in the second part just let me know!! I hope you enjoy!!
Word count: 2655
Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part two
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Getting an invite to the annual crimson ball, hosted by yours truly, was nothing but an honor. Every overlord and every sinner in the pride ring waited anxiously for a letter. A black card with white letter in a cursive font stating ‘You have been personally invited by Hells biggest designer. The list of the gala was simple. The usual overlords, Zestial, Carmilla Carmine and her daughters, Zeezie, Rosie, Fredrick Von Eldritch and Bethesda von Eldritch. Alastor who had came back after seven years of hiding god knows where, and by special request, the three vee’s who had never attended the gala before. Then it becomes a bit more political.
Next on the list was the Goetia family, inviting the recently divorced prince with his daughter. Inviting Lucifer and Lilith, though they only ever came when everyone was gone. Then was their daughter Charlotte, who got a plus one as a special perk of being the princess of hell. Husk because he had been an old friend of yours before his status of Overlord was taken from him by none other than Alastor. He was also given a plus one, though he usually never brought anyone extra. Sir Pentious was a candidate, but ultimately scrapped from your list of invites as you felt he was too childish.
The gala was tonight and everything was going smoothly. Preparations were almost done, the foyer was spotless just the way you liked it, and everything seemed to be falling into place. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You had spent months designing your perfect dress for tonight. Everyone attending the gala knew there was only ever one color off limits, because you always wore it best. The color black always suited you perfectly. No one could wear it better than you.
Back at the hotel, Charlie felt guilty for using her authority as princess to have people help her get ready for this gala. Based on what Alastor had told her, there would be a lot of political powers and fellow overlords there. She wanted to look her best if she was going to pitch the hotel to them. She needed more people on board with the project, maybe someone who didn’t think it was complete and utterly ridiculous joke like Alastor did.
“How do I look?” Charlie asked as the makeup and hair artists stepped away from her. Charlie stepped out, allowing Vaggie to get a better look at her in a tailored charcoal gray suit, a departure from her usual vibrant red attire. The jacket, adorned with subtle pinstripes, accentuated her frame, while the crisp, white silk shirt underneath added a touch of formality. Completing the ensemble, she wore a black tie with a discreet pattern that hinted at both elegance and authority. The ensemble was a strategic choice, projecting confidence and a readiness to engage with the political powers present at the gala for the sake of her hotel. Vaggie smiled and hugged Charlie deeply, their embrace making Charlie feel a little less nervous about the whole ordeal.
“Charlie you look amazing. What happened to the red?” Vaggie asked, before Charlie just chuckled.
“Well, I wanted a change for tonight. I’m always in red, and I feel like they’ll take me more serious if I’m not walking in there with my usual attire. Besides, you read the invitation, ‘formal attire, look your best’.” Charlie said. Vaggie nodded, and Charlie pulled back from the hug to admire Vaggie in her dress. She was wearing a sleek and modern grey dress that gracefully embraced the formal occasion. The dress, with its tailored fit and subtle shimmer, exuded class. The knee-length hemline added a contemporary touch, and Vaggie had decided to pair it with black heels to complete the ensemble. The choice of grey complemented Charlie’s charcoal gray suit, creating a coordinated yet distinct look that would surely make an impression at the gala. Charlie felt her cheeks heat up taking in her appearance, her long hair gently pinned back, the loose pieces of hair framing her face.
“Aww, Vaggie you look so pretty!!” Charlie said excitedly. Vaggie just smiled, ignoring the way her cheeks heated up at Charlies compliment.
“I agree, you look good vagina.” Angel said mockingly, causing Vaggie to glare at him. Charlie just gushed.
“Angel be nice. This is really important for the hotel.” Charlie explained. He just nodded, tilting his head back and downing a bottle of liquor. The staff however was interrupted by Angel making a purring sound at Husk, who was dressed in a nice white suave dinner jacket, with perfect cutouts for his wings, along with some sleek black trousers and some black dress shoes. The match, he had a black silk lapel.
“I can think of another place that suit would look.” Angel said, leaning onto Husk. He rolls his eyes, bottle in hand.
“Do I even wanna know?” He asks, and Angel just grins.
“On my bedroom floo-“ Angel doesn’t get to finish, being shrugged off by Husk who just walks away with a shake of his head.
“Oh my gosh! Husk you look amazing!” Charlie squealed in delight. Husk just smiled softly before setting his drink on the bar counter.
“It appears everyone is ready.” Alastor said, the focus of the room shifting to him. Niffty was at his side studying his outfit from head to toe.
Alastor emerged in an ensemble that deviated from his usual eccentricity, opting for a more formal yet captivating look. A deep red velvet tailcoat adorned his frame, its luxurious texture catching the light. Dark-red lapels, meticulously piped with gold, added a touch of opulence. Underneath, he wore a perfectly tailored crimson dress shirt, the power emitting off of him. Suddenly, the room grew just a tad bit darker, the shadows of the room stretching just a bit. Complementing the ensemble, he chose a pair of well-fitted black dress pants, allowing the bold red hue to take center stage on his appearance. His choice of footwear shifted to polished black oxford shoes, a departure from his usual pointed-toe boots. The finishing touches of the outfit included a matching red silk bowtie, neatly knotted at his throat, and black leather gloves that added a refined edge. Alastor’s presence was commanding, radiating an air of formality while retaining the distinctive charm that defined him. The room was captivated by the Radio Demon’s unexpected transformation into a vision of refined class and style.
“You took forever for that?” Niffty said, before Angel Dust tossed a pillow at her.
“Shut it you. We, we are keeping,” Angel said, hands waving around Alastor, “to whatever this is.”
“Style.” Alastor said confidently. Vaggie just face palmed while Charlie clapped her hands together excitedly.
“Okay, I think everyone’s ready. Should we head out?” Charlie asked. Vaggie nodded, before Alastor dug the invitation out of his coat pocket. Standing near a wall, he traced the symbol on the back of the card on the wall. “Uh, Al? What are you doing?” Charlie asked. He grinned, putting his hand flat on the wall. The symbol began to glow green, before it opened a portal. On the other side, was a large house. The grand Victorian mansion stood as a testament to opulence, its imposing facade adorned with intricate wrought-iron black railings and embellished balconies with hints of chains. Tall, arched windows with stained glass panels framed the exterior, allowing glimpses of the soft glow emanating from within. The entrance, marked by a sweeping staircase, welcomed guests with ornate, carved intricate detailed doors. Charlie, Vaggie and Husk followed Alastor through the portal, Charlie waving goodbye to Niffty, and Angel. Sir Pentious was most likely hiding out in a room somewhere with his egg boys.
As guests approached, they marveled at the meticulous details of the architecture – elaborate moldings, corbels, and friezes adorned every corner. Ivy-clad walls added a touch of nature’s grace, intertwining with wrought-iron lampposts that cast a warm ambiance over the meticulously landscaped gardens.Inside, the grand foyer unfolded, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail. Crystal chandeliers hung from soaring ceilings, their light refracted by ornate mirrors that lined the walls. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, creating intimate spaces for guests to gather and converse.Every room whispered of a bygone era – intricately patterned wallpaper, gilded frames displaying classical art, and the faint fragrance of aged wood and lavender.
The air was infused with a sense of refinement, transporting guests to a time when elegance reigned supreme. The Victorian mansion, a splendid backdrop for the gala, promised an evening steeped in grandeur and charm. In the middle of the exterior grounds, a grand fountain of blood took center stage. Its sculpted marble figures spouted blood into the air, catching the moonlight in a dance of liquid elegance. The fountain, surrounded by manicured gardens and flowering shrubs, became a focal point for guests as they strolled through the outdoor spaces, the gentle sound of cascading blood adding a serene touch to the gala’s errie atmosphere.
The overlords arrival made the event much more real. Alastor hums to himself as he walks around the outside grounds. There are servants of all kinds walking around with glasses of champagne. Rosie is sitting on a bench, plucking thorns off a rose. Alastor smiles to himself, happy to see a familiar face he know he can confide in.
“Rosie dear! So nice to see you.” Alastor said with a smile. She smiles at him, teeth razor sharp.
“Do you think you’ll be getting a seat tonight?” She asks, snapping the rose off its stem and tossing it to the side.
“Well of course I will. It’d be a mistake if I wasn’t.” Alastor said with a smile, crossing his legs as he sat down next to her. Sinners from all over the pride ring were socializing outside of the large mansion. He knew you were inside finalizing preparations and possibly screaming your head off. Overall, the air was chilled with a comfortable atmosphere. Well, it had been comfortable, until a loud noisy vehicle stopped at the front gates. Everyone’s heads were turning, Rosie and Alastor looking at each other with strained smiles. Stepping out of the large limousine were the three vee’s, vulgar music blaring from the vehicles speakers as the three made their way through the now open gates. Reporters lined the edges of the gates, trying desperately to see the overlords inside and to try and sneak into the gala, which was starting soon.
“Mr.Vox! Mr.Vox!” News reporters shouted. Velvet was busy taking selfies of her and her outfit, her assistant following close behind her. Valentino was busy looking down at everyone, smoking his usual, while taking his long strides next to Vox, who was in the middle of the three.
On Vox’s right was Valentino, who donned a captivating look for the gala. His tailored white suit boasted a jacket that reached just above the knee, a subtle departure from his usual floor-length coat. The crimson silk lining peeked through, adding a luxurious touch to the outfit. The coat, reminiscent of his extravagant style, also had a vivid-red hue with his signature white fur trim at the wrists. The black and white striped fur trim along the center-front added a distinctive flair. A gold chain and love-heart-shaped broach fastenings adorned the coat, creating an opulent yet alluring look. Finally, he wore polished black heeled boots, maintaining the sleek and captivating allure that defined Valentino’s presence. The familiar color scheme remained intact, blending sophistication with a hint of provocative charm for the grand gala.
On Vox’s left was Velvet, who had spent months perfecting her outfit for the gala, in hopes she’d be invited of course. She had begged the boys to keep a good public appearance, in hopes they’d be recognized and invited to the crimson gala. Velvette, deciding to ditch her usual style, embraced a lavish and over-the-top look that represented her brand. Dressed in a knee-length dress, the garment had a striking blend of black and red hues. The dress, fitted at the waist, flowed into a voluminous skirt, creating a sense of extravagance. The bodice of the dress featured intricate lace detailing. A white collar adorned with a velvet bow added a playful yet mature flair. The sleeves, a fusion of burgundy and white patterns, contributed to the overall lavish aesthetic she had been going for. Her accessories took on a more refined form. Velvet gloves, adorned with delicate lace, graced her hands, and a pearl necklace adorned her neck, adding a classic touch, completed with maroon heels, each step resonating with a sense of grandeur. Velvet’s transformation into this upscale attire reflected her desire to make a statement at the Crimson Gala.
In the middle, and the brains of the three vee’s, was none other than the head of Vox Tech, Vox himself. He wore a sleek and modern dark blue tuxedo, tailored with precision. Of course he could only have the best. The suit featured subtle futuristic patterns that enhanced his ‘perfect’ sense of style. To complement his high-tech vibe, Vox wore a light blue undershirt with an upside-down broadcast symbol. Vox's gala attire seamlessly blended power and control with his technological edge, creating a memorable look in shades of dark blue, which in his opinion, was the best color.
Upon seeing Alastor, Vox’s eye twitched noticeably. The gates shut behind the three vee’s, closing off the gala to the public. The overlords begin to get closer together unknowingly, Zestial finding a comfortable corner to watch things play out. Carmilla and Zeezie stand close together, whispering to one another as both Rosie and Alastor stand from the bench. Vox, Valentino and Velvet make their way to the Radio Demon and his colleagues.
“I see the grandpa’s were invited.” Velvet says with a scoff, scrolling through her phone.
“So disrespectful.” Carmilla says under her breath, looking away from the three vee’s.
“Hm, interesting, and I was beginning to think the only interesting thing tonight would be the dinner.” Bethesda said, her brother nodding.
“Well, it seems the children brought their play date to the public then.” Zeezie says. The other overlords laugh and Valentino sneers at her.
“Well an idiota like you would think so. Then again, don’t you all do the same with your diapers?” He asked, puffing the smoke into her face. She growls at him, fists clenching at her side, but Carmilla stops her.
“Didn’t they say this was an adult only gala?” Carmilla asked, Rosie chuckling at her words.
“Oh can it grandma.” Velvete said. But Vox remained silent, having his own personal staring match with Alastor, whose smile was stretched ear to ear, teeth on full display.
“I thought this gala was meant for real talent?” Vox asked, stepping closer to Alastor.
“Well it was until you showed up.” Alastor said with a smile. “There’s no originality in copying someone else.” He tuts. Vox narrows his eyes, face twisting with anger as he steps closer to Alastor again.
“You wanna tell me something, you old piece of-“ Vox is stopped, the lights to the exterior of the mansion dimming. The lights behind the large front doors opening slowly. Two tall black shadowy figures stepped from the door, smoke at their feet.
“Thank you all for your attendance. As we know, the annual Crimson Gala is held every year, and this year is no different. With the new extermination date, important decisions must be made. Tonight, ten individuals will be selected to sit at Madame’s table where she will discuss private plans on how to move forward.” The two said in unison. Everyone fell silent as more shadows appeared, each one sitting on the sides of the steps. Lights around the staircases began to light up, and people began making their way up the stairs.
“Well~ this should be fun.”
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pathologicalreid · 5 months
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nicknames | S.R.
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in which you meet the team for the first time, and receive your first nickname
who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader
category: fluff
content warnings: reader is referred to as a girl. i have this headcanon where when reid's IQ gets slashed to 60, he'd get so distracted that he'd run on autopilot, hence the willingness to handshake.
word count: 591
a/n: happy finals szn! this fic has been rotting in my brain for weeks and i finally decided to flesh it out. and maybe you should like and reblog this if you enjoy it (no pressure tho)
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You were still filtering through your entry paperwork when the rest of the team filtered into the bullpen. David Rossi, who had helped you land this job in the first place, nodded in your direction before disappearing into his office. “Hey!” Someone called from across the bullpen, “Y/N, right?” Emily asked, setting her go bag in the chair at her desk before making her way over to your desk.
Smiling in response, “It’s nice to finally meet you,” you responded, reaching your hand out for her to shake. It was nice to be in the BAU, complete with a promotion from Special Agent to Supervisory Special Agent.
JJ walked over next, waving, and introducing herself as the communications liaison. “I’ve heard a lot of great things from your old CARD team,” she said, “I’m sure your skillset will come in handy here.”
You nodded in affirmation, “That’s the hope!” You answered, smiling at the prospect of your old team singing your praises.
Next, Derek approached, reaching out his hand for you to shake. Of course, you obliged and grinned at him. Part of you felt like you were meeting celebrities, the BAU was a big deal in the bureau. “Derek Morgan,” he introduced himself, “How long were you with CARD?”
“Five years,” you responded, it was a long time for anyone to deal solely with child abduction, but your team had the best rate in the bureau. Besides, you found the work rewarding.
Morgan’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “that’s impressive.”
You nodded, “Thank you. I’m really looking forward to working with you all.”
JJ looked behind her, “Oh, have you met Garcia?” She asked, peeking around the corner to where the technical analyst's office was.
Glancing down at the cat-shaped stress toy that she had given you when you arrived this morning, you smiled, “Yes, she was the first to greet me this morning. I think I’m just missing Dr. Reid.”
As if on cue, the young doctor walked into the bullpen, he had a worn leather satchel over his shoulder and looked like he might be talking to himself, “Reid!” Emily called over, getting his attention, and causing him to change course, approaching your desk. “Come meet, Y/N.”
He adjusted the strap of his satchel over his sweater before you reached out your hand for him to shake. “Oh, he doesn’t…” JJ began, but her voice trailed off when Dr. Reid shook your hand.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Dr. Reid,” you said, smiling at him. It felt good to know you had finally met the entire team.
He gave a close-lipped smile in return, “Reid is fine, or Spencer.” He said as you each dropped your hands to your sides.
Noticing everyone looking back and forth between the two of you as if you had already managed to do something wrong, you gathered all of your paperwork in your hands, “I should get this to Hotch.”
The rest of the team got the message and started to disperse to their respective desks, Reid’s being adjacent to yours. “Welcome to the team, pretty girl,” Morgan said to you before turning to his own paperwork.
You hugged your paperwork to your chest as if you were protecting it. Quietly, you muttered, “I really hope that nickname doesn’t stick.”
Across from you, there was a short laugh, almost a scoff. “It will,” Spencer responded in the same reverent tone. For a second, you thought it might be a joke, but you could tell by his facial expression that he was serious.
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That's My Wife - LN
Summary: Lando gets into a new relationship and gets caught in a clip call her his "wife" which earns a stupidly explosive reaction from F1 media and fans online. In an attempt to distract his girlfriend from the negative attention, he tries to get her to try something new.
Literally when I started writing this someone sent in a request asking for something scarily similar so one of us is ahead of the game with each other. But she asked for a stream fic, and this isnt' going to be that so if you're the person who literally just requested then this isn't the request but...scarily similar.
Themes: Smut (unprotected, as usual but like I do not promote it): face-sitting (honestly I'm just throwing a bit of smut in everything because...why tf not?), soft-dom!Lando (he's returned! but did he ever leave?)
I'll shut up now. Enjoy (or don't, maybe you'll hate it)
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Lando just about frolics over to his girlfriend as she stands waiting for him in parc ferme ahead of the podiums since Lando unsurprisingly made it up onto the podium. Though as he nears his team get over excited and nudge her to the side.
"Hey, watch it. That's my wife." Lando jokes not realising Sky managed to pick up on the audio of his words as he gently holds her arms. "Are you ok?"
"I'm good, you did so good!" Y/n beams completely unbothered over being nudged, after all there was no harm meant in it.
"Yeah, celebrations with you later." Lando smirks, and thankfully the camera has moved to Max.
Y/n rolls her eyes before pushing him away using his helmet before he moves to Zak for a celebration.
-
The internet and the media had gone feral with Lando's choice of label for his girlfriend. He'd admitted he's only been dating her for about 2 months when he hard launched them on his Instagram.
But now he's calling her his wife.
Between them, it's no big deal. She's not his wife, but he just calls her it because he does. There's no rhyme or reason in his head other than he just loves her a lot and calls her his wife.
To y/n, she just doesn't mind what he wants to call her.
But Lando did make it worse by deciding to drop the ugliest photos of y/n (in her opinion, Lando insisted they were adorable), mainly asleep or candid pictures of her usually looking annoyed or judgemental over something. One was actually a photo of her ignoring Lando "serenading" her, in reality he was just screeching a song at her to the point that Oscar came into the driver's room to see if things were ok. But along side all those photos that she has yet to forgive him for posting, he purposely added fuel to the fire by saying "wifey always looking good even when she's moody or unconscious".
Obviously he was just loving to play the instigator.
"You are so annoying. Look at the comments, you muppet." Y/n groans seeing a lot of shots being made at her about not being good enough for Lando as a girlfriend and certainly not good enough to be his wife.
"They're not my fans."
"Do you want to try telling them that?"
"Next time I'll post about how much I love having you sit on my face and they can-"
"Lando!" Y/n gasps but she's definitely trying not to laugh as she smacks his chest with the sound of her hand hitting him almost making her check that she didn't hit too hard since he's shirtless and the normal t-shirt to soften the smack wasn't there. But he speaks up again moving and stopping her from inspecting his chest.
"They're being ridiculous. That post was to mock them and show them that I don't care what anyone has to say. Because I love you and they can't talk shit and ask every question under the sun. I'll give them the honest answer."
"After a sarcastic answer." Y/n scoffs making him grin at her since she knows him so well that he will be giving sarcastic answers that the media struggle to know if he's serious with or not.
"Well one day if you're lucky you will be my wife, but we have yet to see if I decide I want to propose."
"You cheeky fucker!" Y/n laughs then sighing as she slumps back a little with a fake glare. "Well if you're lucky, I might say yes."
"You'll say yes." Lando scoffs before he goes quiet for a moment and y/n sighs looking at more comments which really aren't very nice. "Actually speaking of sitting on my face-"
"We weren't speaking about that, because it's never happened."
That's true, it's not the first time Lando has spoken about it. He's wanted to try it but as many women do, y/n has the irrational fear that she'll accidentally kill her boyfriend. How the hell would she even live on after that? In fact, if she killed him, what does she say when she has to call the police on herself?
Hi, I just killed my boyfriend after he asked me to sit on his face. Come arrest me.
"It came up. And I'm in the mood... I bet I can tempt you, if you stop overthinking it-again." Lando states managing to hold out his hand and guide her over to straddle his lap with little effort. "You know most guys say it'd be the best way to die."
"For fuck sake, that doesn't make it better Lando." Y/n whines while Lando hums, his mind already made up that he's going to win her over into agreeing to it. He knows she wants to try it, she loves getting head so it's not as if that's an issue.
"Get up, I want you out of all these clothes." Lando states again giving her a hand as she stands up, trying to avoid his gaze as she does as he wants and pulls off his clothes. "We're going to go slow, and I promise. If you don't like it. We stop."
"Ok." Y/n nods knowing that if she told Lando no right now, then he'd not make her go any further.
"Safe word?" Lando questions earning a bit of a smile.
"Jaffa cake."
"Of course." Lando nods before moving to kiss her. "You're going to realise what you've been missing out on."
Eventually she's hovering over him looking nervously down at him while he looks up at her waiting for her to finally let him smother himself in between the glory of her thighs.
"You can't stay up there forever."
"What if you can't breathe?"
"Then you're doing it right. Now can you sit on my face?"
Y/n isn't impressed by his dismissal but she does finally lower herself down over his head, letting out a long breath as she does so. Though she's not exactly placing her full weight down on him. Not till his hands pulling her thighs down and the feeling of his mouth on her earns an immediately makes a shiver of pleasure ripple down her spine.
"Fuck." Y/n whispers feeling Lando mouth borderline attacking her in the best way possible.
Her hand reaches to the back of the sofa for some stability since they didn't move from the living room. She does somewhat grind down on him, trying not to be too harsh in doing it but the moan of the man underneath her is definitely a noise of pleasure she's very familiar with.
The pressure on her clit and the wet precise movement of his tongue, he knows her body too well for her to be able to contain the feeling of completely euphoria.
It takes less time than usual for her to completely fall apart and in the aftershocks making her body shudder afterwards, Lando sits up with ease. Her body flying back onto the sofa as he makes the smoothest move he's ever pulled with her.
"How was that, baby?" Lando asks making her look at him with sort of glazed eyes before he removed her legs from where they'd ended up on his shoulders and closing the space to kiss her. "Would you do it again?"
"Yes. Next time I say no just don't let me talk."
"Noted." Lando laughs before he sighs managing to pull her back over so she's straddling his stomach, the throbbing of her pussy felt on his stomach making him groan. "No, baby. I gotta get inside you if you're going to feel like that on me. Please."
Usually he'd give her a bit more recovery time since the woman is sensitive, especially when he just got her to try something new. But the feeling of her pussy against him just throbbing and twitching from her own orgasm.
Less recovery time means she'll probably be squirting all over him in minutes, but he's willing to exhaust her if it means he can get inside her quicker.
Her rolls them over so she's under him, finally getting his shorts off before he pushes into her, the twitching and pulsing around him honestly making him have to take a moment to restrain himself from a more feral side appearing. Holding back, he takes a steady breath.
"Are you ok?" He asks making her nod.
"Baby, move. Please. I need you." Y/n whimpers sounding desperate for some more relief.
When he moves they're both working to meet their high along with try to help the other along. The high, as expected hits faster for y/n and she orgasms around him with only seconds of warning for him. Not that he's quite there, even if he's close.
Y/n does everything, even in her slightly dazed and out of it state, to pull him along and when he finally cums he's feeling a little out of it took.
Y/n does sort of cuddle into him once he's cleaned up and given her the tentative aftercare she's sort of become accustom to with him.
"See, tell me this isn't wife life." Lando chuckles as she whines nuzzling further into him. Her body crying for rest and recuperation.
-
"So Lando, you've teased it for weeks. Are you married?" Jenson asks as Lando sits in the pre-race show.
"No-Wife, come here. You can tell them." Lando laughs since y/n is with the McLaren group awaiting Lando to finish his part in this.
Her eyes widen and she shakes her head making both Lando and Jenson laugh a little.
"It's ok, Jenson isn't going to hurt you for stepping in frame." Lando laughs holding out his hand and that's what leaves her stepping in. "Y/n will tell everyone why I call her."
"Come on then, y/n Tell us the truth."
"Because he feels like it." Y/n admits with shrug. "We're not like engaged or married. It's just he started calling me wife and it stuck. He even jokes that he just might propose one day."
"Might? Lando, shame on you." Jenson chuckles shaking his head.
"We're young. There's time." Lando grins while hugging y/n back against him between his legs since he's sitting on one of the stools while y/n is standing in front of him facing away from him as she speaks to Jenson.
Really Lando thinks that this woman is going to be his wife, and he thinks that they sort of already act like husband and wife most of the time. They've settled into a perfect dynamic in his head, a dynamic that he thinks could only progress into real marriage and a family together.
"So at some point while still not engaged or married will you return the favour and casually call him husband?"
"I'l...have to think about it. Maybe." Y/n smiles clearly mocking him a little.
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heesdreamer · 9 months
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Forgotten Consequences
PAIRING ➩ jake x reader (bsfs little brother au)
SUMMARY ➩ Your bestfriends little brother comes back from Australia and catches your attention despite knowing the consequences
WARNINGS ➩ ages aren’t specified but reader is a few years older than Jake and considers him “barely an adult”, RLLY ROUGH SM*T, like no joke it’s rough be warned, consent is there even though reader says no (she def wants it!), d*ddy is used sorry lol… this is straight up p*rn so there’s your warning. Jake is rough and borders obsessive
WC ➩ 5.7k
AUTHORS NOTE ➩ Not exactly pleased my return to the writing world is basically PWP lol but here it is… there’s a larger story here I’m considering writing so lmk if you’re interested. Sorry to keep you guys missing me, take this as an apology piece
“Your brother is a lot taller than I remember him being Chaeyoung.”
You briefly glanced over to the side once you heard Lily’s voice start to whisper, seeing her leaning into the other girls side as she tried to be as discreet as possible.
Both of them were staring out at something in the yard and you followed their gaze until you landed on Jake standing in the corner, picking up something off of the snack table and looking as bored as you felt at this ridiculous party.
“If you hook up with my little brother I’ll actually kill you.” Chaeyoung’s voice was flat and deadly serious but her face didn’t show any actual signs of caring about the conversation, rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her drink before looking away and letting Lily lay on her shoulder.
Your eyebrow raised slightly at the interaction before your gaze was floating back over to the boy instinctively.
He hadn’t been home from the dance school in Australia long and this was only your second time seeing him since. You’d grown up together but you’d never paid him much mind outside of when Chaeyoung gave him funny makeovers and made him dance to girl group songs with you and your friends. Other than that he wasn’t necessarily somebody on your radar.
It was impossible to not notice the difference in him now.
Mainly the fact he was almost double the size he had been when he left, clearly hitting puberty now and apparently the gym considering how large his shoulders looked underneath the washed out black hoodie he was wearing.
He’d obviously gotten a new sense of style in his time away too and it was one that you were almost annoyingly attracted to. His hair was longer and stuck in his face most the time, earbuds peaking out from behind the dark strands whenever he pushed it back with his large hand and you could’ve sworn you’d posted the shoes he was currently wearing on your Instagram story a few months ago.
You watched him as he started to make his way back inside, completely ignoring the party going on around him and not even sparing a glance at the people in his backyard and living room.
When he was younger, he always wanted to be involved, especially when it had to do with Chaeyoung and your friends. You remember seeing her send him back up to his room dozens of times when he tried to hang out with you guys, always greeting you and the others enthusiastically.
A frown was forming on your face at his indifferent attitude before you were glancing back at your friends, glad to see they were lost in their own conversation and not noticing the way your eyes had been locked on your bestfriends little brother for the better part of the last ten minutes.
They were so distracted that they also didn’t notice the way you were scooting off of the outdoor bench, adjusting your skirt and balancing yourself slightly before you were heading inside and following the path you’d seen the younger boy taking. You were a bit thrown off when you entered the house again, the atmosphere a lot more intense and dizzying than the outside partygoers had been.
But you knew Jake wouldn’t have stuck around this type of environment long so you pushed your way through the crowd and continued on your way upstairs to where you knew he’d be, raising your fist and knocking on his door before you thought twice about it.
You froze up slightly at the speed in which he swung open his bedroom door, a heavy glare set on his face and you could hear music coming from deeper in the room, having seemingly abandoned his headphones. His eyes widened for just a second when he realized it was you in the hallway before he was forcing on an expression of indifference.
“Y/N? Whats up?” He was asking but his tone was lazy like he didn’t care, luckily you knew better and could clearly read the curiosity in his eyes.
You ignored his question and pushed into the room, taking a deep breath once inside before turning towards him with a raised eyebrow. He was sighing and closing the door behind you, leaning against it for a second once he realized what your expression was directed towards.
“You smoke?” You were finally speaking and he tensed at the sound of your voice, looking way more intimidating with the way he was lazily leaned against his door and accidentally trapping you inside the room. You took a seat on his bed and watched him curiously, waiting for an answer.
You didn’t necessarily need one considering you were now noticing how lazy his eyes were, gaze low and hazy as he stared at you sitting on his bed and the corner of his lips turned up into a half smirk at your stern voice and scolding demeanor.
“You gonna tell on me Y/N?” His tone was teasing now and you kept watching him as he pushed off the door, crossing the room until he was flopping back into his bed.
Luckily he kept some distance between the two of you, sitting up so his back was propped up on his headboard and his knee was pointed towards the ceiling. You were still sitting on the edge of his bed but you turned your body so you could face him better, adjusting your skirt with the movement. You took one final glance towards the door, eyes falling down to the turned lock on the knob.
“I’m sure I could be convinced to not tell.” You were responding to him slowly, keeping your voice light so he knew you weren’t serious. His eyes darkened a touch but you continued on with your light teasing. “Maybe if you were open to sharing.”
You weren’t exactly sure how you ended up in Jake Sim’s bedroom smoking weed with him, sitting fully on his bed now with your legs crossed underneath you and grazing fingers every time he passed the bowl over in your direction.
You kept picturing Chaeyoung walking into the room, seeing the way you were looking at him every time he was breathing smoke outwards into the air. You wondered if she’d care, wondered if she’d realize where your mind had gone and then you’d shift on the bed and feel the tension in the room and know there was no way she wouldn’t suffocate in it.
He was watching you now in a way that you knew was past the line of friendly, miles past the line of being your bestfriends younger brother, and for the first time since entering his room you got nervous. So nervous that you inhaled wrong and the smoke traveled to a tighter part of your chest, sending you lurching forward in a rough cough as you patted your torso a couple times to try and clear your airways.
Jake was chuckling at your amateurish smoking skills and you sent him a glare as another cough ripped through you, moving your hand to send a soft punch towards his knee for his teasing.
“Wanna know a better way to get the smoke down?” His voice was low, lower than it already was and you remember being frozen the first time you heard him speak when he originally got back, deep and silky as he muttered a halfhearted greeting in your direction.
You gave him a curious look even though you already had an idea of where this was heading, wondering how far he was planning to take this. You only responded with a soft nod now that your coughs had died down and left your throat with a burning sensation, worsening when a gasp ripped through you at the feeling of him wrapping his hands underneath your knees and tugging you closer on the bed.
He moved you completely effortlessly and your eyes were wide and panicked, still sitting with your legs crossed but now you were directly in front of him and your knees were bumping into one of his, his other leg stretch out along your side and effectively forming a cage around you.
“Don’t do anything stupid.” Your warning was coming out far less stern than you’d hoped it would, voice weak and almost teasing again despite how serious you were.
His eyebrow cocked at this and you immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say considering the challenging glint forming in his eye now. He was swaying forward so his face was close to yours, way too close considering you felt his nose graze you for just a second before he was pulling back so he could stare down at your tense features.
“Keep your mouth open.” He was speaking suddenly and you could feel his breath on your lips, his tone light but commanding enough that for some reason you were immediately nodding your head and parting your lips for him.
He wasn’t wasting any time, sitting up enough so he could light the bowl once more and inhale it deep, holding it there in his chest easily for a few seconds before he was leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours. It wasn’t a kiss but it was enough for your eyes to flutter closed, leaning forward to press tighter against him but still not enough to feel his mouth completely on yours.
It was completely sensual, the way he was breathing out the smoke into your mouth from his own, almost suffocating as you inhaled a shaky breath softly and swayed further against him to try to avoid letting it escape.
“Breathe it in.” He was directing you again now that the smoke was out of his mouth and inside yours, not bothering to lean back and give you space as he started to speak and you could feel his lip brushing against yours for just a second. “C‘mon hold it for me. You can take it deeper than that.”
Your eyes were widening in surprise at his suggestive words, letting the smoke out before you were planning to and sitting up straight to try and put some distance between the two of you. He didn’t seem bothered at all by your reaction and for a second you wondered if you had just misheard him, let your own guilty thoughts and insecurities take his words to mean something besides smoking.
It didn’t help that your stomach was flipping with want now, face reddening and getting warmer as you replayed what he had said in your mind.
“Do it again.” You were requesting it in a whisper and you weren’t exactly sure what you were asking for, judging yourself for secretly hoping he’d repeat his innuendo laced words so you could hear it in his voice again. Instead he was grabbing the bowl and placing it between the two of you, lighting it again and inhaling.
You didn’t have too much time to be disappointed considering he was immediately lowering it and connecting your lips again, not even giving you time to open your mouth to collect the smoke.
He seemed to take matters into his own hands and you felt his tongue pressing against your sealed lips, prying them open so he could tilt his head and funnel the smoke into your throat. For a second you were chasing after his tongue with your own, nearly kissing him fully in a deeper lust fueled high, but he was cupping your jaw briefly and closing your mouth so you were forced to breathe in the smoke.
It was settling deep in your chest and this time you held it for him, looking up at him slightly through your eyelashes with watery eyes and he had a more satisfied expression on his face now that you were listening to him.
“Good girl.” He was humming out the word casually but your mouth parted in surprise, legs instinctively clenching together as you let the smoke filter back out and hit his face instead. The smirk on his face told you that he had definitely noticed your reaction and you were starting to lose all feelings of guilt and hesitation, being replaced with something much more terrible.
Something so intense that you couldn’t stop yourself from rocking forward and pressing your lips against his fully.
He thankfully was immediately reciprocating and you tried not to think about where he learned to kiss this intensely, hands coming up to cup your face and keep you locked against him as you moved together. You’d rocked forward so far that you nearly knocked him over back against the bed, leaning over his lap now as you desperately kissed him deeper and deeper.
It took for his hand sliding down your back, attempting to pull you fully onto his awaiting lap, for you to snap out of it and sit up straight with a small gasp.
Your hand was reaching up to touch your lips and you tried to ignore the fact they were wet from his mouth, looking at him and scanning from his confused eyes down to his own swollen lips that most likely mirrored the state of your own. Your body was lit up with need and it didn’t help that he was still touching you, hand resting on your lower back like he was waiting for you to kiss him again.
“We can’t do this.” You were telling him sternly in a panicked voice, shaking your head desperately to try and make sure he understood and that your point was getting across to him.
His hand was sliding down lower and roughly squeezing, resting on the curve of your ass and sending your hips forward and more onto his. A soft gasp was slipping from your mouth, followed by a breathy whine at the feeling of him hardening and pressing against your front, even more unbearable considering he wasn’t moving his hand and was instead softly groping your behind and rocking you against him.
“But we’re going to.” He was responding to your rejection in a casual tone, sounding more confident than he was pushy and you let out another soft whine as you gave him a bewildered look. “You followed me up here, you came into my room in this tiny little skirt and climbed into my bed because you wanted me to fuck you.”
You were instinctively shaking your head in panicked denial but your hands were going to his shoulders, pulling yourself forward onto his lap fully and mewling softly at the feeling of him completely pressing against you.
He didn’t say anything else as you started to desperately move against him, your head falling forward and landing in the crook of his neck as you lifted yourself up and down slowly so you could feel him under you at every possible angle. His large hands were holding you roughly and lifting you every time you struggled, pushing your skirt up further on your hips so he could feel your bare skin and lace panties.
“Fuck fuck.” You were panting out into his neck and arching your back into him, a shiver rolling down your spine when he was harshly tugging at your underwear so it was pressed painfully against your sensitive clit.
“God, do you always get this wet?” He was finally started to sound affected and you let out an embarrassed sob at his words, hand sliding up the back of his neck until it was tangled in his long hair. You imagined you were already a mess considering how desperate you were feeling, an overwhelming heat mixing with your high and stopping you from thinking about anything other than Jake.
“Let me fuck you baby, let daddy fix this.” He was talking so sweetly in your ear in his low voice.
You were shaking your head again but you already knew your resolve was falling apart, feeling nearly inhuman with how much you longed to be full of something, especially if it was him. You were aching in your panties and the forbidden image of your best friends little brother stuffing you and making the ache go away was nearly making you drool.
“How old are you Jae?” You were gasping out and lifting your head out of his neck to look at his face clearly, fearing his response and knowing you had a right to the fear considering for the first time his eyes flashed with guilt and worry. You were quickly doing the math in your head and gasping again, sitting up even more and stopping your rocking against him. “Oh my god you’re barely legal.”
He suddenly looked really annoyed and you felt bad for getting this far with him, knowing you had no choice but to stop what you were doing and reject the boy before anything more happened.
Messing around with your best friends brother was one thing but doing it while he was just barely an official adult was too much for your conscience, even if you weren’t that much older than him.
He seemed to have a totally different idea than you considering he was scoffing in annoyance before he was pausing and then flipping you completely over, ripping a shriek from you as your back unexpectedly hit the bed and he was left hovering over you. You froze up in shock as he impatiently undid the buttons on your skirt that was still pushed up on your waist, tugging it down and tossing it somewhere across the room.
“Don’t act like you care about how old I am.” He was barely looking at you as he spoke with anger lacing his voice, looking at your nearly bare bottom half for a few seconds before he was glancing up at you to check for your reaction. “Let me eat your pussy.”
You were letting out a loud laugh of disbelief, lacking any humor as you clamped your thighs shut and shook your head. “I mean it Jake, we can’t do this. It’s wrong.”
His large hands were squeezing your ankles for a second before sliding up your legs softly, your breath getting shakier as he reached your knees and slowly separated your legs. You both could tell you weren’t actually showing any attempt to stop him, not even putting up a fight as he lowered his face closer to your core and you could feel his breath over the wet spot covering your panties.
“It’s wrong that you want my tongue so bad your thighs are soaked.” He was talking in between the kisses he was laying on your skin, getting closer and closer to the thin fabric separating you and the point of no return. “Would be wrong to let you leave my room without my cum in your stomach.”
“Please, you need to stop.” You were breathing it out in a moan once he finally was placing a kiss over your covered core, softly running his tongue along your wetness and humming softly. The vibrations went straight to your clit and your hips rolled off the bed, pushing his face straight against you. “Oh fuck.”
He let out something that sounded almost like a growl before he was pushing your panties to the side and diving into your wet folds, wasting no time in sticking his tongue as deep as he possibly could get it and ignoring the way you nearly screamed and tried to close your legs around his head. He used his free hand to aggressively slam your knee back against the bed, opening you up completely for him and practically making out with your cunt.
It was completely lewd and disgusting, the wet noises filling the room as he ate you out with a level of expertise that almost made your stomach turn with curiosity if it wasn’t for how good he was making you feel.
Your hand was going to his hair to pull him out of your core but plans changed when he was sucking your clit into his mouth softly, instead keeping him locked in place with his long strands between your fingers. He abandoned your sensitive bud to go back to trying to stick his tongue as deep inside you as he could, turning his head so he was pushing into your tight hole and he moaned against you, the vibration nearly pulling another scream from you.
“Please Jake, oh my god please.” You almost thought you were begging for him to stop but you both knew you weren’t, lifting your hips up every time he tried to take a breath in an attempt to keep him buried in your cunt as long as possible.
“Wanna cum on my tongue or my cock baby?” He was lifting his head up to question you and you were thrown off by how easily it rolled off his tongue, how confident he seemed to be in being able to fuck you properly and make you cum with no question. You rarely came from hookups and definitely left unsatisfied more often than not but something about the glare in his eyes made you believe him.
You were apparently taking too long to answer considering he was climbing back on top of you and adjusting you slightly, moving your body like it weighed nothing.
“Don’t know how long I’ve wanted you like this Y/N. Going to show you what a real man feels like inside this slutty little hole.” He was reaching down and rubbing his fingers against you for emphasis, smirking when you let out a shaky breath and your stomach clenched. “Beg for daddy to fuck you baby, let everyone hear how much you want me.”
You were shaking your head and letting out an actual sob now, tears heavy as they rolled down your face and landed on the bed underneath you. He looked completely unaffected by your emotional reaction to the humiliation and pure want you felt for him.
It didn’t matter what he said now and it didn’t matter even if his sister walked into the room and saw him on top of you like this, you’d realized from the second you entered the room that you’d let him do anything to you that he wanted and that fact drove you absolutely insane with guilt and embarrassment. He seemed to know it as much as you did considering he was silent and patient as he waited for you to get ahold of yourself, knowing you’d end up begging for him regardless.
“Please Jake I need you so bad, need you to fuck me baby please.” You were pleading with him through a sob, grabbing onto his shoulders and trying to lift your hips to meet his and show him how desperate you were.
His eyes darkened the more you spoke and for the first time since entering his room you felt genuinely anxious, letting out a cry as he swiftly moved his hand up so it was pressing on your throat and restricting your breathing. Your eyes widened at his sudden aggression even though you were beginning to understand your mistake.
“Say it again and say it right or I’ll throw you out of my room with nothing but your dripping cunt.” He was leaning down to spit the words into your ear and you let out an embarrassing whine, another rush of heat running through you. “You like that huh… like when I get rough with you?”
You were nodding the best you could with his hand around your throat, the sting of the pressure making more wetness rush out of you as complete desperation took over your mind and left you feeling dizzy and out of it. Out of it enough that your tongue was hanging out of your mouth before you realized it, mouth opening as you stared up at him with watering eyes and heavy eyelashes.
He let off some of the tension around your throat just enough for you to be able to speak in a weak voice.
“Please daddy please give me your spit, I’ll be a good girl I promise.” You were practically sobbing as you begged him and his eyes were basically darkened to pitch black at this point, staring down at you with a hunger you’d never experienced from someone before. “Can do whatever you want to me, I’ll take it.”
Jake aggressively gripped your jaw and tugged your head closer towards his, waiting until you were eagerly sticking your tongue back out for him so he could spit roughly into your mouth. Before you got a chance to swallow it he was chasing after his spit with his own tongue, licking against yours until he was practically in your throat. You hummed softly and bobbed your head so he was even deeper, wanting him inside you in every way humanly possible.
“God you’ve gotta let me fuck you now or I’m going to hurt you.” He was pulling back to speak through gritted teeth, nearly looking pained as he was roughly sitting you up and tugging off the sweater you’d been wearing, leaving you completely bare outside of your panties that were beyond stretched from the way he was holding them.
“Hurt me.” You were begging him for it before you even processed that you wanted it, the imagine of him holding you down and shoving himself so deep inside you that you couldn’t handle the stretch making your stomach tighten with want. “Please Jake hurt me.”
“Don’t even know what you’re fucking begging for, you’re such a slut you don’t even care how I fuck you.” He sounded so angry but you knew he was just as affected as you, tugging you up and back into his lap so you were straddling him again. He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth for just a second before he was letting it go to speak again. “Wanna drag you down to that packed living room and take you in front for everyone there, let everyone watch me stuff you so deep your stomachs bulging.”
You were dizzy now, almost worried you were going to pass out from how overwhelmed you were and he’d barely even touched you so far.
You were desperately rolling your hips into his again and he was surprisingly letting you, guiding you as you bounced in his lap and practically rode him despite the fact he was still fully clothed. The image of you, bouncing on his hard on while practically naked and dripping down your thighs compared to him being fully dressed and composed made you feel even dizzier and you found yourself longing for what he was describing.
“Gonna make me feel so full daddy please, I’m sorry.” You could feel his hardness pressing against you every time you bounced and you were so turned on you couldn’t even find the time to be embarrassed you were probably soaking the fabric of his pants, the time to be humiliated you were calling a boy younger than you daddy.
“Should be fucking sorry.” He was growling out the words again and flipping you over easily so your stomach was on the bed instead, lifting you up by your hips so your ass was perfectly presented for him.
He didn’t hesitate before he was sending a sharp smack to your bare skin, immediately ripping a pained yelp from you that faded off into a desperate whine. You were adjusting yourself so you were pushing your ass towards him more and silently communicating you wanted him to hit you again, sobbing into his bed and pressing your face into the blanket to try to muffle the sounds of your cries.
Thankfully, he was understanding and roughly hitting you again. You knew he wasn’t using his full strength considering how strong he was but he definitely wasn’t going easy on you and you could feel yourself leaking even more at the pain.
“Tell me you’re sorry for never looking my way when I was a kid.” His words were barely being processed by you since you were so dizzy but you cried harder at the sound of his deep voice commanding you. “Sorry for being such a fucking slut but never giving me the chance to fill this pussy up.”
“Only want you to fill me please.” You were being immeasurably too loud but you didn’t even slightly care, completely serious in your desires for him to be inside you no matter who was watching. “M so sorry Jae please, please.”
You could hear the sound of his belt coming undone behind you and you nearly cried with relief, adjusting even more so you were completely presenting your ass and core to him. You wanted him to see how much you belonged to him so he’d have no choice but to fuck you.
He must’ve finished undressing his lower half because you could feel him pressing against you and your back arched at the realization his skin was pressing against yours, a loud whine sounding through the room when you felt his bare cock rubbing against your folds and thighs experimentally. You pushed against him harder and he reached up to squeeze the fat around your hips roughly in annoyance, a silent warning as he groaned softly.
“Gonna stuff you now and you’re going to lay here and take it.” He was grunting as he spoke and you sucked in a sharp breath when the head of his cock caught on your hole, pushing in just enough for you to realize he was a lot thicker than you’d prepared for. “Fuck you’re so tight, I’m going to end up in your stomach.”
You arched at his words and whined into his blankets, pushing your hips back against his so he was going deeper inside you. The stretch was knocking the air out of your chest but you nearly cried with how full he was going to make you feel.
“Please daddy please, I’ll be such a good girl for you I promise.” You were pathetically pleading with him and you knew for a fact that if anybody had drunkenly wondered upstairs they could definitely hear you, but you didn’t care about anything other than him in this moment and he was driving you crazy with how slow he was pushing into you.
He was finally losing his control and fucking himself deep inside of you in one go, bottoming out as you both took deep breaths and tried not to lose it before you’d even started.
The sound of him groaning above you was making you even more needy and you were overwhelmed with how much you wanted to keep hearing him make sounds like that, instinctively clenching around his length and feeling the way he was throbbing deep inside you.
You were basically sobbing with pleasure just from his first stroke into you when he pulled out completely, your body reacting intensely to the emptiness as you immediately looked over your shoulder and prepared to beg for him to fuck you again, stopping mid sentence when he was turning you back over on your back so you were able to see him again.
He was slamming himself back into you before you even adjusted to the position and he felt ten times deeper now, a pained grunt falling from your lips as he started to finally actually fuck you.
“Fuck you’re so fucking tight Y/N. I thought you were a whore but you feel brand new for me baby.” His facial expression as he spoke through gritted teeth and continued to thrust into you made you dizzy and you desperately reached out to hold his arms to try and ground yourself.
“Just for y-you Jake, only wanna be this full with you.” You were practically delirious as you cried and spoke to him but your words seemed to turn him on more considering he was slamming into you harder, clearly enjoying the level of ownership you were voicing towards him.
You didn’t want to internalize any of the things he said about you not paying attention to him before, knowing if you stopped and considered what he was implying you’d not be able to go through with this.
He was skilled at distracting you considering he was reaching forward to aggressively grab at your wrist, placing your hand against your stomach and pressing down so harshly you grunted in upset as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The lack of understanding didn’t last long considering it took only two more rolls of his hips inside you for you to feel what he was intending, your stomach bulging slightly from his size forcing itself deeper.
“Feel that?” He was rasping and you looked up to meet his gaze for the first time since he entered you, taken back by how dark and deadly his eyes were. “You’re mine now.”
You were nodding quickly in confirmation, not because you agreed with what he was saying necessarily but because of the wave of fear you felt seeing how serious and cold his expression was.
He had managed to already get you shockingly close between the foreplay and rough manhandling and it wasn’t long before you were feeling the familiar tightness in your stomach, only worsening when he was leaning down and catching your mouth in the sloppiest kiss of the night. It was bordering painful and filthy, exactly what you needed to distract you from how wrong this was and exactly what you needed to have you finishing around his length with a sharp inhale into his mouth.
You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him kissing you even after you’d came, letting him know it was okay to keep fucking himself deeper inside you.
It was just enough to help you forget everything outside of the feeling of him on top of you and you felt drunk with how much you wanted to stay in this moment. You were terrified by how much he seemed worth the consequences when you had him like this, how much you wanted him even when the door was swinging open and a loud shriek was coming from the hallway.
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literaila · 3 months
Text
one in the morning
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary:
"satoru. where did you get these kids?"
warnings: slight angst, awkward child rearing, a bit of arguing, and pining (of course), slightly ooc gojo
a/n: because i am a sucker for little megumi
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*
year zero. year one.
it's not that you're not expecting the call. except that you're not. 
like not even a little bit. an asteroid coming down and destroying only you and your apartment building is slightly more likely than satoru gojo calling you in the middle of the night, like he hasn't done in the last six months. 
the last year, really.
a year ago you would've known who it was immediately and probably would've cursed satoru out for calling you at three in the morning to see if you wanted to go get ice cream with him (and then you would've gotten up and put on your shoes to find him outside of your room, already grinning). 
but now you have to check the caller id. 
you blink around in the dark--struggling through the dregs of dream you're still waking through--and sigh. 
unfortunately, you've never had quite enough willpower to ignore this phone call. shoko has called you an idiot many times--too many times, actually--telling you that satoru's attention-seeking habits are not your responsibility. not that she's had to say that in a while, though... and it's not like you're going to sneak out in the middle of the night with him anymore--you can't sneak out. you have your own house. there’s no yaga to look down on you disapprovingly here. 
and he hasn't called you in six months. you haven't even heard about him beyond some irritated remarks from yaga, and shoko's knowing glances when you try to nonchalantly bring him up.
and still. 
it takes you a moment to pick up the phone, your thumb hitting the answer button before your mind can stop you. 
"satoru?" you whisper, listening to the breathing on the other end. 
there's some muffled moving around, and then a breath, and then someone in the background speaking, and then-- 
"i need your help." his voice is quiet like he doesn't want anyone to hear what he's saying. 
what time is it? have you ever heard satoru say those words before? 
your first thought is that he's on another mission. that there's a cursed spirit and he needs some assistance. but when has satoru gojo asked anyone for help with a cursed spirit? when has he ever needed it? suguru was typically there to keep him from-- 
you pause, sitting up in bed. this might be a nightmare, but usually, you're more accustomed to them. "where are you?" you ask him, speaking in the same soft voice. 
you expect him to name off some city, some house, some country that you couldn't possibly get to. you expect him to crack a joke, say something to you about being lost without him, or laugh at how serious your voice sounds. but he only murmurs, "at your door." 
like it isn't a completely crazy thing to say. how does he even know where you live? 
"it's one in the morning," you say, frowning. some small part of you wants him to actually be there, expecting a knock to come from the void of your hallway. and the other, much bigger part, thank you, wants him to be joking. 
"i know," he sighs, and the receiver is muffled again, and then, "can you open it?" 
"what's going on?" 
"please," he repeats. there's no joke to this. this is not satoru asking you if you want to go get donuts at six in the morning, or milkshakes at midnight. "i'll explain. i just need your help." 
you bite back some remark about how he hasn't needed your help for the past year. about how he hasn't called, hasn't texted, and hasn't even asked about you since-- 
but you stand up, trying to untangle a knot in your hair. you hang up on him without answering. your heart gets a bit of satisfaction from that. 
and go to your door, giving yourself two seconds to prepare for the real-life satoru in front of your face. blue-everything eyes, you think, wall white hair, and a stupid smile. 
but when you open it, your eyes drift to his (sort of) like they're already sure of where exactly he might be, it isn't just him. 
there's a little boy--as tall as satoru's waist, with dark hair and furrowed brows to match--standing in front of another little girl--the same dark hair, but blank face--glaring up at satoru like he's kidnapped both of them. 
your eyes widen as you realize that he probably has. 
"this is basically every kid's dream," he's telling this boy, his playful voice like they’ve known each other for years. "i got you candy and i'm letting you stay up late. why aren't you normal?" 
"why aren't you?" this boy retorts, and his voice is hard. unreasonably sarcastic for such a small person. it might make you giggle, the obvious tension between the two of them, if you weren't so worried about these kids' poor parents, freaking out at their disappearance. 
the little girl is the first to notice you there, and she waves, her face much softer, much more exhausted than the boys in front of her. but she doesn't look frightened; not concerned with wherever this strange man has taken the two of them. 
and satoru looks up at the motion, his mouth turning as he looks at you. 
the little boy frowns, but his eyes settle. there's a brief moment where he watches you and you think that he's about to start begging for your help, but then it's gone. and his eyes trail back to satoru, still angry. 
you blink, swallowing at the three of them. this is not ice cream.
"satoru," you get out, eventually. "where did you get these kids?" 
*
"okay," you set a glass of water on the coffee table, trying to put on a normal smile. your hands are shaking, so you tuck them under your sleeves. "i'm sorry i don't have a lot of extra blankets, but if you get cold i'll go look through some boxes and see what i can find." 
it's been ten minutes with them inside your apartment, and you already feel like you're doing something wrong. satoru, obviously, just briefly introduced the two of them to you, before you grabbed his arm and dragged him--along with the kids that trailed behind--into your apartment. 
you'd hissed at him about how it was cold, and one in the morning, and they needed to be asleep. he only smiled and asked how you were. 
so now they're cuddled up on your couch, with your only spare blanket, both of them with dreary eyes. you're trying not to look too closely--to check if they've been crying, or if they're harmed in any sort of way.
the little boy--megumi--nods and tsumiki smiles at you. 
how four little eyes can look so appreciative, you're not sure.
satoru is leaning against the wall behind you, watching you move around these children like it's normal, and you have to bite your tongue to keep from screaming at him.
"is there anything else you need?" you ask them, trying to be softer than you are. you should’ve taken that babysitting job when you were twelve; you’re completely out of your depth here.
megumi shakes his head. 
"no, we're good," tsumiki says. 
and you seriously want to get them to a hospital. where did they come from? why does satoru have them? is he insane? are they insane? have you just dreamt this all up?
"okay, satoru and i are just going to go talk in the kitchen for a bit. come get me if you need anything." and you smile again, taking a couple of hesitant steps as they both look away from you to the show that tsumiki put on when you handed her the remote. 
at least they're not outside anymore.
you drag satoru into the kitchen, thinking about knocking the wind right out of him. he's always been particularly punchable, but right now he's even more so. 
and he's smiling adoringly at you. 
“satoru," you grind out, trying to keep your voice down. he leans against your countertop, crossing his legs. 
and he hums inquisitively. “you know, i don’t think megumi likes me very much.” 
“satoru.” 
“not sure…" he scratches his head, white hair falling over his sunglasses. "i mean he’s kind of a weird kid but still. i took them to the store to pick out anything they wanted and neither of them got anything. even when i showed them the different cakes they had in the bakery. there were matcha rolls today, too. do you think they’re robots or something?” 
“satoru. where did you get those children?” your voice is a step away from furious. 
why is he here right now? why does he just barge into your life at unprecedented moments, acting like nothing has changed between the two of you? 
acting like you haven't missed the sound of his voice or the way he speaks with his hands, or how he's standing right next to you, warmth radiating off of him like a toxin. 
“is that important right now?” he asks. “we’re talking about their spending habits.” 
“i’m talking about you. tell me that you didn’t steal them from the park and that i’m not obligated to report you.” 
“are you serious?" he shakes his head at you, his voice still teasing, calm as ever. "you think i’d just take some random kids home with me?” 
“i don’t know!" you tell him, finally breaking--your voice is raised, and you almost don't notice. "i don’t even know how you got here, or where you’ve been in the past six months, or whose children those are because they are certainly not yours.” 
he pouts. “you don’t think they look like me?” 
“you’re too pale.” 
“that’s rude, you—“ 
“whose kids are they? now, satoru.” 
you hope your face looks intimidating, but honestly, your demand is more like a suggestion when it comes to satoru. he can listen or he can leave. 
you don't know which one you want more. 
there’s a beat of silence where he rubs his foot on the ground, messing up your tiled floors probably. and then he sighs, relenting. “…toji zenin’s.”
he could’ve said anything else and you wouldn’t even care. oh, he found those kids abandoned in a warehouse on a mission? cool. oh, he found some long-lost cousins? great. if it were anything else, you would've waved him off and told him that he needed to get them new clothes, or something. 
but this? 
“what?!” 
“shh. you’re the one who said they need to sleep," he tries to look around the corner of your hallway, even though you both know he doesn't need to.
you’re gawking at him, but, really, can it be helped?
“toji zenin?!”
“well technically fushiguro according to the records i dug up. but zenin nonetheless...” 
“you stole his kids?!” 
“i didn’t steal—“ 
“he tries to kill you so you kill him instead and take his children hostage?!” 
this would be a wonderful moment to wake up.
satoru waves this statement off, frowning. “you’re really brushing over the ‘tried to kill me’ part. what? you don’t care about me?” 
“why do you have them, satoru? what are you planning to do? torture them for information?" your eyes are wide and your heart is panicked. "they’re kids—“ 
he scowls. “of course not.” 
“then what? tell me everything, starting from when toji tried to kill you.” 
“why do you automatically think i did something?" he complains. "it’s not like i asked zenin to kill me first. i didn’t bait him into slicing my throat open.”
“because you always start the problems.” 
“not true. sometimes i solve them, and sometimes i—“ 
“how did you find out about them?” 
he sighs. “he told me about megumi, before he, ya know,” and then he makes a motion across his neck. and a terrible noise that supposedly indicates death. 
you don't even mock him for it “why?” you ask. 
“megumi might inherit the zenin technique. he’s worth a lot to the zenin clan, and i guess that toji made a deal with them.” 
“you guess?” 
“well, it’s not like i had a whole lot of time between the resurrection and murdering thing to ask him. i didn’t invite the guy out for tea so he could tell me about his pride and joy," his voice is riddled with sarcasm, so you can't decide if he's joking or not. 
he is the most infuriating person you've ever met. 
“so what? he asked you to keep megumi away from them?”
“no, he didn’t seem the sentimental type. maybe he told me cause he didn’t want megumi to grow up there, or maybe he told me so i could claim the prize money for myself.” he shrugs. “it doesn’t matter.” 
you glare at him. “oh, it doesn’t?”
“no. i asked megumi what he wanted and this was it. he doesn’t want to live there and leave tsumiki behind, or have her live in that misogynistic shithole.” 
“how old is he?” 
satoru almost winces. "uh, six?”
“you don’t even know how old he is?” you close your eyes, shaking your head. 
“he’s in first grade! we haven’t gone through all of the basics yet.” 
“and tsumiki?” 
“…nine.” 
“satoru.” 
“i’ll figure it out. megumi acts like he’s fifty years old anyway, so what do i care?” 
you can practically see him rolling his eyes. 
“what do you care?" you repeat, mocking. "you just told me that megumi made this decision for himself. he's a kid. he probably doesn’t understand—“ 
“he understands that if he goes to the zenin clan his sister will suffer in whatever way they deem fit. i mean, you know what it’s like for girls there—especially without any cursed energy.” 
“you cant just make this decision for them on a whim, satoru. have you thought any of it through? where are they going to stay? who’s going to watch them when you’re sent away? where are they going to go to school? what if megumi does inherit his cursed technique?” 
“all of that doesn’t matter. i'll figure it out," he waves off the topic of their lives like it's a mere suggestion, "what matters is that i keep those kids from being subjected to a life of servitude and competition. that they get to be kids while they can.” 
you swallow. is there a way not to be frightened by this? “i know—i know where you’re coming from," you give him a weak smile, trying not to yell, or fight, or question this so much that satoru shuts down. "it’s nice of you to be… worried about them. but this isn’t like taking in a lost kitten, satoru. these are children.” 
“do you really feel the need to point that out?” 
“yes. what do you know about kids?” 
he smiles, wide. “nothing!” he exclaims. “that’s why i came here. and you’re already doing a great job.” 
you frown. “what do i know about kids?” 
“well, you like them, don’t you?” 
“what?” 
“when we went to that daycare center during second year you played with all of the kids. you like them," he nods as if affirming it himself. 
you went to a daycare with satoru once to take care of a grade three curse and apparently, it's led him to insanity. 
“you’re comparing my hide-and-seek skills to taking care of those two kids on my own?"
“i mean, i’ll be here too...” 
“taking care of three children on my own?” you correct. 
satoru pouts. 
you think about what suguru told you after riko amanai died; about satoru and the shift within him. some sort of manic strength he hasn't uttered a word about since. 
but you continue, swallowing. "what's this really about?" you ask, softly, trying not to be mad, or worried, or concerned about why he came here to you. "it's not like you to... take responsibility for something you're not responsible for." 
his pout turns into a frown. you can see his brows furrow. "you don't think i'm capable of helping people?" 
"i know you're capable. but why? why now? i mean, it's been a year since toji died, and you're just getting them now? you suddenly remembered what he said to you?" 
"i had to figure out the logistics of toji's deal." 
"okay," you shake your head, "but still. why not have a family take them in? find someone who can give them a relatively normal life before they're pushed into all of this?" 
satoru's face is blank. "no. what happens when megumi is eight and his new 'parents' put him in a hospital because he's seeing things that they can't?" 
for the first time since he's walked through your front door, he sounds almost serious.
"i--" 
"what happens when they're afraid of him because he draws in cursed energy? when his 'family' rejects him like yours did? like suguru's did?" 
"satoru." 
"honestly, do you think that's any better?" he gestures to your living room, to the kids he's proclaimed responsibility for. "if he does inherit his technique then the zenin clan will go looking for him anyway, and he won't be able to protect himself because there was no one to teach him how. no matter where he goes he's going to be ripped away from tsumiki, who seems to be the only thing he actually cares about. he didn't even want to know--" 
"is this about suguru?" you ask him, the words falling before you can catch them. 
satoru stills. you can see every one of his muscles tense. preparing for a fight. "what?" 
"are you trying to... make up for his decisions? do you feel guilty? is megumi supposed to replace him?" 
"replace him?" 
"i know you think that you can take care of everything on your own, satoru, but you can't. it's not your fault that toji died. and it's not your fault that suguru left--" 
"it is my fault." he says, so softly the words are almost caught before they can reach you. "it is." 
you shake your head. you should've had this conversation months ago. a year ago, before any of this could happen. 
"c'mon, y/n," he continues, no laughter, no smile, no swagger. "i saw what was happening. everyone did. but i was his best friend. i was supposed to be there for him." 
"suguru didn't want you there. he didn't want you to be a part of it." 
"well i could've stopped him. even if i couldn't save suguru--" his voice cracks on his name. "i could've saved everyone else. but i didn't." 
"that's... that's a ridiculous suggestion. how are you supposed to kill your best friend? why should you have to save everyone? why would you even--" 
"megumi isn't some replacement. he's a little boy, and if i'm not there for him then he's going to be stuck with his family. just like i was. he's going to be used for his cursed energy and who knows how he'll turn out? if he'll kill people recklessly like toji, or die trying to do the right thing?" 
you're silent. 
"i'm the only one who can protect him from this," satoru says, and you realize that he's been thinking about this for the past year. that every second since he almost died, this has been on his mind. "they're not going to touch him if i make it clear that i won't let them. i won't--i'm not going to let him become someone he doesn't want to be." 
you sigh. "satoru..." 
his body moves at your voice and he smiles again, shaking off whatever anger you drew out. it's almost a complete shift in who you're talking to. like the stakes no longer matter to him; these kids are just another obstacle to face, a power to control. 
like he's remembered the role he's supposed to play. 
"besides, someone's going to need to take over for me eventually. i might as well train him myself." 
you cant see his eyes, and that’s probably good. you wish someone else were here to take your side, explain to satoru that he’s just a kid himself. that he shouldn't have to take care of everything on his own. 
because when it’s just you, he always has the upper hand. he always gets his way. 
"okay," you say, eventually, after you realize that you'll never win this fight. that you don’t want to fight with him at all.
"okay?" he repeats. "so you'll help me?" 
"help you?" 
"yeah. why do you think i brought them over here?" 
you pause. "you want me... to what? raise them?" 
"with me, yes." 
"are you kidding?" 
"no. you're probably the only person i trust to help." 
the words do something almost indescribable to your body. the person you were a year ago would've cried out in relief, would've clung to him like glue to paper. 
but you frown instead. "seriously?" 
"you've already taken care of them better than i could. look." he drags you around the corner to where tsumiki has her head on megumi's, both of them snoring softly, folded into the blanket you gave them. 
the tv flickers in the background, bothering neither of them. how they've managed to fall asleep with all of the yelling that's been going on, you don't know. 
"see? they already feel safe around you." 
"they're exhausted," you correct, but feel yourself soften at the sight of them. they are kinda cute without the scowl or concern plaguing their faces.
"we're going to be great parents," satoru coos, slinging an arm around your shoulder. 
you push him away. "we are not their parents. we are... permanent babysitters. nannies." 
satoru fixes you with an amused look. "okay." 
"and you still owe me an explanation. i want a complete narrative about what you've been doing for the past six months. and how you found the two of them." 
"okay," he steps closer to you again like you won't notice. 
"and--" you don't have anything else. it's one in the morning. how clear is your mind supposed to be? "and you're paying for anything they need." 
"uh huh." 
eventually, you sigh. it's a surprise that you've lasted this long. "fine. i'll help you. but only because they'd probably die if they spent more than twenty-four consecutive hours with you." 
satoru doesn't say anything--not to whine or roll his eyes--and it's a small acknowledgment, a thank you he doesn't have to say out loud. he'll take this win, at least. 
the two of you watch them, relaxing into the wall. 
after a minute satoru whispers. "by the way..." 
"what?" 
"i didn't tell megumi that i killed toji." 
you turn to him. your eye might as well start twitching. 
"what? he said he didn't want to know--" 
*
you're sneaking into the kitchen when you notice him sitting at the table. his hands are crossed in front of him, his eyes focused on a stain you haven't been able to get off of the wood. 
he's very small, you realize, watching him. his hair is messier than it was the night before, sticking to his head like he slept slumped against it. 
he's not doing anything, really. just sitting there. you can see his legs swinging in the air. 
and before you can prepare for what to say to this little boy who you're probably going to be spending a lot of time with, your mouth is open. "hey," you say to him, just whispering. 
tsumiki must be sleeping. 
megumi looks up, quickly, like he wasn't expecting you to be there. his eyes are wide like he's been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. but then he slumps down again and gives you a brief nod in acknowledgment. then looks back down, because the table is very interesting.
you wonder how many mornings he's woken up alone, with no one to tuck him back in.
"can't sleep?" you ask him, standing across from him and leaning against the table. 
"this is when i usually wake up," you recall his voice the night before when satoru was teasing him, rougher than a boy's should be. but it's soft now, quiet. 
it's probably seven if the clock on your bedside table is to be believed. 
"you were up pretty late, though." 
he almost rolls his eyes, remembering the events of the night before. 
and you can tell that he doesn't really want to talk to you. he doesn't know anything about you, or what you want with him. why should he trust you? 
you clear your throat. "how old are you?" 
he looks up again. "six. why?" 
"satoru wasn't sure." 
this time, megumi actually rolls his eyes. you're familiar with this sort of annoyance directed at satoru, so you smile, just a little bit. at least there's something you can relate to. 
"and tsumiki?" 
"seven." 
you nod, stepping away. 
what do you say to a boy who has been dragged into your home by a maniac? 
you sigh, clearing your throat again. "are you hungry?" 
megumi's eyes narrow. there's a brief second between the two of you, where some sort of understanding passes through his eyes. who was the last person to make him breakfast? 
and then he nods, slowly. 
you smile. "okay. c'mon, let's see if i have anything you like." 
*
next part.
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ryukatters · 7 months
Text
swipe right — k. bakugo x fem! reader
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✮ a/n: i remember seeing a post on here a long time ago about a character making a fake tinder profile for their gf and realizing how many people want her. (if someone knows the OG post please lmk so i can link it!) so now i present to you: bakugo falling to his knees in the middle of your apartment bedroom for the exact same reason.
✮ content/warnings: dubcon, quirkless/college! au, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, cum eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, biting, bkg gets a little rough with you, and bkg's also a fucking simp but when do I ever write him as being otherwise??
✮ summary: your boyfriend decides to make a fake tinder profile for you just to see how many matches you get. he comes to a realization just how many other people want what’s already his.
✮ word count: 4.2k (i'm so sick)
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Bakugo can remember how this all started. In very vivid detail, actually. He remembers because Kaminari had pissed him off so much to the extent that it took him a very substantial amount of effort to refrain from bashing his friend’s face in.
It all started during the last monthly hangout amongst Bakugo and his friends— one day out of the month designated to make sure that they all had time to catch up with one another despite their busy schedules.
Everything was normal, with all of them getting more than enough of their fill of food and alcohol while idly playing video games and talking about random topics to fill in the silence in Kaminari’s living room. 
Perfectly normal, until Denki decided to open his stupid mouth, at least. 
He goes off on a tangent about a trend he saw on social media where someone makes a fake Tinder profile for their partner to see how many matches they’d get. He proceeds to tell Bakugo that he should try doing it, for “funsies,”— to which Bakugo scoffs at. 
“Aren’t you curious, Kacchan?” Kaminari smiles cheekily, wrapping an arm around his blond friend’s shoulders, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Bakugo’s becoming visibly more upset with every passing moment. 
“Your girlfriend is really pretty,” Mina chimes in, sticking her tongue out when Katsuki whips his head to glare at her. “I’m still surprised she’s with a grump like you.” 
Kaminari butts in, “I bet there’s a whole line of guys around the block just waiting for a chance to get with her. I mean, just look at her! Hell, I’d even let her peg m—”
For a moment, Bakugo swears he wants to bash Kaminari’s face into his flatscreen. And for a moment, he lets that impulsive thought win— getting up and grabbing two fistfuls of Denki’s shirt before promptly getting cut off by Kirishima.
“Alright alright,” Kirishima forcibly pries Bakugo off of the other blond, pushing him off to the side. “That’s enough, you two. Kaminari was just messing around. I’ll admit, it wasn’t a good joke, but no need to hurt the guy, okay Bakugo?” 
Kirishima knows that Kaminari wasn’t being that serious, but Kirishima can also admit that what he had to say held some ounce of truth. And Kirishima knows Bakugo well enough to see how your boyfriend tends to be rather skittish and protective with matters concerning you— which is exactly why Eijiro had to stop him before it was too late. He really didn’t feel like preparing for Denki’s funeral or helping hide Katsuki escape from a homicide charge.
And that was that…up until a few minutes ago.
Katsuki’s tried to forget that conversation. But try as he might, his mind betrays him and can’t help but wander back to what Denki said that night.
He trusts you of course, and has complete faith in your relationship. However, he’s curious to a fault, just about perhaps too curious for his own good. 
How badly could this end?
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As it turns out, this whole scheme seems to be playing out very poorly. 
Dozens of photos of you— screenshotted from your social media accounts— fill Katsuki’s screen. He had to choose photos you uploaded yourself, because most of his photos of you were either too…suggestive or too domestic (and he wants to be the only one to see you in those moments).
He swipes through “your” profile one last time before clicking “done” to officially put you on the market. And just like that, Bakugo’s met with the faces of men who are nowhere near your level. He goes through the batch of profiles, scrutinizing each one he comes across. He’s (un)surprisingly selective with the ones he chooses to swipe right on— making sure that they’re at least somewhat conventionally attractive. To his surprise (or dread, rather), his phone pings right away with a notification from someone who swiped back. Another ping. A message. 
You free tonight? 
Bakugo scoffs. He looks through the guy’s profile— a picture of him at a party with his arms around some girls, another with him doing a victory pose presumably after hiking, and one with him holding a fish. He feels his mouth curl in disgust, about to give into the urge to reply and give this guy a piece of his mind, before he realizes he’s pretending to be you. He takes a deep breath, closes out of the app, and puts down his phone. 
He’s starting to regret this.
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Bakugo’s phone has gone off 15 times in the last hour. Bakugo has also felt the need to strangle some stranger through the phone 15 times in the last hour. Your (read: his) profile has existed for less than 60 minutes, and you already have a whole address book of nobodies trying to link with you and get a quick fuck. 
He feels the familiar beginnings of a headache creeping up the back of his skull. He thinks he might need a drink. Why did he decide to do this again?
In hindsight, he probably should have known this is exactly how it was going to go down. 
What was that saying? Curiosity killed the cat?
Yeah.
He was never great at self-preservation in the first place. So this, the feeling of overwhelming jealousy, frustration, possessiveness brewing up a storm threatening to pour out of every single fiber of Bakugo’s being— was no surprise.
He watches as the numbers at the bottom of his screen increase steadily, before tapping on the star icon. 
‘99+ likes!’ it reads. Over 99 people who saw your profile and thought you were beautiful. Bakugo pales, and he can feel the cold sweat building on the nape of his neck. He grips his phone, knuckles turning white. Is he shaking from anger or nervousness?
Anger because all these guys think they even have the slightest chance with someone as amazing as you. Nervousness because what if you decide that they do? You wouldn’t actually leave him for one of these guys, right? Right?
None of these men would walk through hell and back for you. They don’t know how you like your coffee, the details of your skin care routine, how you like to binge watch shows and talk Katsuki’s ear off about them (not that he ever minded, of course). They don’t know you, not like he does. Katsuki looks at you like you hung the moon. In fact, he’s pretty convinced that you did. Everything good in his life— the warmth, the color, the joy,— is encompassed by you. He’d be damned if he lets some greasy little nobody take that from him. Because the moment Bakugo fell in love with you, you became a part of him— inextricably and indefinitely. Loving you has become so intrinsic to him, that even the mere thought of another person loving you or looking at you the same way he does has him going insane. Not that anyone could love you like he did, though. That thought brings him some comfort, but not for long. 
One last notification he sees sends him spiraling. Bakugo swears that he can see red. That’s when he deletes the app, and throws his poor phone in some random corner of the living room, which is markedly one of the smarter choices he’s made as of late. He marches to your bedroom with a fire burning in his chest. 
He stops short of the door and finds you sitting at the edge of your shared bed, fresh out of the shower. You’re applying lotion, and he watches the cream absorb into your skin wordlessly, in awe at how overwhelmingly beautiful you manage to look in the most prosaic of tasks. For a second, he almost forgets the reason he was upset in the first place.  
Your hair is still damp, water droplets accumulating at the tips, and Katsuki feels his mouth run dry the minute he watches a stray bead fall and make its way down your neck and stop perfectly in the dip of your collarbone. Your very existence is forever etched into his heart, every inch of you carved into his memory, but even still he can never get tired of looking at you. At every angle, in every lighting, he needs to see you in it. You could call him obsessed, but he’d simply laugh and agree, because what’s so wrong with that? Especially if it’s you. 
You’re one to be studied— to be adored, Katsuki thinks, to the greatest capacity. It’s what you deserve. And what better person for that task to fall upon than him?
He finds himself naturally gravitating towards you, his finger tracing the same exact path the water had carved just moments before, wordlessly. You try to pay no mind, but it’s difficult as you realize just how close Bakugo was and how your towel barely manages to cover up your most intimate parts. One wrong move and you’d be exposed. With how things were playing out, and the predatory glint in the blond’s eyes, you don’t think your boyfriend would be too perturbed with your current predicament. 
Katsuki presses a delicate kiss to your forehead before he crouches down. Suddenly, you’re at eye level with one another, his hot breath tickling your lips. You think for a moment he’s going to kiss you so you lean forward, lips waiting. But he merely grazes them before he sucks a deep bruise into the juncture of your neck, biting slightly. 
You’re barely given any time to react before he’s grabbing the hand that’s securing your towel and ripping it away, the offending garment falling off your body. Your flesh prickles with goosebumps as its exposed to the sudden chill.  It’s quickly replaced by the heat of Bakugo’s body as he pushes you lightly, your back hitting the mattress. He crawls on top of you, muscular thighs on either side of your hips, your head placed conveniently between his forearms. He’s trapped you, a nonverbal challenge for you to try and escape. 
You’re a work of art, he thinks, but much more valuable than any pièce de résistance framed in any museum. 
Beautiful, yes, but far too blank for his liking. He wants to ruin you, make you his own personal magnum opus. And so he does. 
He presses a clothed knee against your bare cunt, pressing firmly. His lips continue their assault on your neck, leaving angry purpling bruises in their wake. Rough hands find your breast, and you moan in surprise when he gives both of them a harsh squeeze as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. Katsuki kisses you like a man dying of thirst, hungry for everything you can offer him and more. It’s all too much already, the way he’s kissing you has your mind reeling, and you have to turn your head away for a moment to catch your breath. Katsuki thinks it’s a moment too long without you, so he coaxes you into locking lips with him once more. A wave of mischievousness washes over you, prompting you to take your boyfriend’s lower lip in between your teeth, biting down lightly. 
You feel his breath hitch, before he lets out a low groan as he grinds his clothed dick against your bare wetness. He returns the favor, sucking on your bottom lip before letting it go with a wet pop. He pulls back with a lazy smirk, his lips pursing together to scatter messy kisses down the base of your throat and down your chest, alternating between sucking and biting at the flesh. 
He gives you a good once-over, scanning every surface, committing them to memory. You feel the need to curl into yourself with how intensely those vermillion eyes are piercing into you, memorizing every single curve, scar, freckle like he’s done time and time again. 
He drops down to his knees, broad shoulders bullying their way in between your legs, forcibly prying them open. He grips your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh, and drags you down the mattress until your legs are dangling off the bed.
“Jesus, Kats, be more gentle.”
“Shhh. I know you like it when I’m not gentle,” he chuckles. As if to prove a point, he pulls you down even further, giving a harsh bite to your inner thigh. He smiles deviously when you yelp. You try to pull at his hair but his reflexes are too quick, pinning both of your wrists down on either side of you easily. “Besides, this is the perfect height for me to eat you out, dontcha think baby?” 
You want to chastise him for being so crass, so Katsuki, but the words die on the tip of your tongue the minute he gives a sweet, loving kiss to your clit, sucking lightly. 
“You’re mine. I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this except for me.” 
You’re not entirely sure what brought this on, but you find it hard to complain when Bakugo drags his tongue from your throbbing clit to inside your pussy, drinking everything you have to offer. 
Your hands automatically try to find purchase in his blond locks, struggling against the vice grip Katsuki has on your wrists. He decides to take pity on you, loosening his hold so you can slip your hands into his hair, moaning appreciatively when he feels you tug. He rewards you by flicking his tongue on your clit over and over again, just the way you like it. He does it until your moans begin to pitch higher and higher, the same way that they do when you’re close. He doesn’t stop his ministrations even after you cum, riding out your orgasm until your thighs are shaking from overstimulation. He pulls away from you with a loud pop, taking in the sight before him. 
He runs a hand up and down your thigh soothingly. “So fucked out already and we’re barely getting started, baby.”
Your mind is barely processing his words before you feel Katsuki’s erection brush against your stomach, his clothing haphazardly discarded on the floor. He taps the head of his dick against your clit to tease you, a feeling of satisfaction swelling when you cry out from under him.  
He watches in fascination as strings of your arousal cling to him. He positions his length at your entrance, locking eyes with you as you hold your breath in anticipation. Katsuki likes you like this. Needy for him. 
 “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know that?” He slips into you with a stuttered groan. 
Katsuki’s always been big. You never get used to the initial stretch, no matter how many times you two fuck. Still, that doesn’t stop him from sliding in with ease from the slick of your last orgasm. It easily coats his cock as he gives a few experimental thrusts. He groans in rapture. How do you manage to feel so good every time? It’s enough to drive him insane. Perhaps he already is. 
“So fucking perfect, no wonder why all those losers want you.” He mutters out the last part, and you’re not sure if you caught that right. 
“What?” He chooses not to respond, and you aren’t given the opportunity to think any further before your legs are thrown over his shoulders, Katsuki’s weight effectively pinning you in place. The stretch knocks all the wind out of your lungs, and all you can do is cling to Katsuki, nails leaving red, angry lines on his well-defined back.
He wastes no time before he starts drilling into you, hips slotting in between your legs perfectly. The position has him pressed against your clit, and your entire body feels like it’s been set ablaze, with Katsuki holding both the power to have it burn even brighter and the ability to extinguish it. And you’re almost there, you can feel your soul slowly ascending, your room filled with hymns of pleasure, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter, threatening to unravel along with your sanity. Katsuki can feel it too— the way you’re squeezing him tighter, how your gasps and moans have climbed just a note higher, how absolutely ruined you look, how he’s responsible for your current state. Which is exactly why he wants to push it even further, he wants to see how much you’ll break for him— and only him. 
Katsuki cuts you off right before you can reach your peak, pulling out but making sure just his tip is inserted. You come to and take a look at your lover and marvel at the sight. He has a crazed look in his eyes. The way he smirks is absolutely wicked. 
You feel distraught— having been so close but having it ripped away from you. You give your boyfriend a petulant pout.
“Katsuki,” you whine, slapping a hand against his sweaty chest, “Why’d you stop? I was so close!”
“Because I didn’t want you to cum yet,” he says simply. “You’ll be good for me, yeah? I’ll give my baby what she deserves, as long as she’s good.” 
You roll your eyes, huffing. That won’t do for him.
As much as he loves seeing you indulge, he feels a need to punish you— at least a little bit to even begin to atone for being the wicked temptress you are. 
“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” Bakugo growls, gripping your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks, causing your lips to purse slightly. “I said be good, okay? Wanna take my time with you.” 
There’s a moment of respite, until you sigh in defeat, knowing better than to argue with him lest you wanted to dig your own grave. “‘Kay, ‘ki.”
He flashes you a smile. Obedient, just how he likes you. “Good girl.”
Katsuki draws his hips back, thrusting just enough to fuck his tip into you. He’s teasing. The amount of willpower on his end it takes not to cum is nauseating. 
“You’re so pretty, aren’t you?” he rasps, one hand finding their way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. Your hands reflexively grab his wrist. 
All you can manage is a fucked out moan. Katsuki has to resist the urge to coo, about how he’s managed to turn you into a cockdrunk mess in such a short matter of time. The wave of possessiveness that’s been gnawing at the depths of his soul begins to seep out, and he’s reminded of the reason why the two of you are in this position in the first place. 
He gives your throat another squeeze and a rough slap to your clit. “C’mon princess, answer me. Say it.” He slowly adds more and more pressure until your ears grow hot and air feels like a precious commodity. 
“I-i’m pretty,” you manage to gasp out, tears spilling from your lash line as you begin to lose yourself between the space of pleasure and pain. 
Good. Always so pliant for him.
“That’s right, baby,” he concedes. “So fuckin’ beautiful.” He punctuates the last word with a deep thrust, right against that spongy spot that feels so good. You’re so sensitive that it’s enough to send you spiraling into your second orgasm, walls spasming around him uncontrollably. 
Katsuki stills, staving off his own release with all the restraint he can summon. He silently thanks whatever divine forces are out there that he didn’t cum the minute he felt the first clench of your orgasm. 
He grits his teeth as he wills himself to move, trying not to get lost in the wetness that envelops him. You’re babbling now, senseless moans filling Katsuki’s ears like a sweet melody. 
“Kats, please, I’m too sensitive—” You’re shaking now, muscles trembling with every thrust. 
“But I’m not done with you yet,” he says simply, drawing his hips back with a particularly rough thrust. You choke back whatever you were going to say with a loud cry. “What’s your color, baby?”
You take a moment to answer, brain trying to comprehend the words just uttered to you. You look at Katsuki firmly, “Green.”
“Atta girl,” he praises, the drive of his hips beginning to shallow. He’s close, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. But for you, he tries. “You’re mine, right?”
“Yes,” you breathe out, shivering as goosebumps dance across your skin. 
“Say it,” Katsuki pleads, thrusts growing sloppy by the second. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m all yours, ‘ki.” 
With that, Katsuki’s fate is sealed. He’s left groaning as a flash of pleasure shakes his very soul, filling you up with so much cum that it dribbles onto the mattress even while he’s still inside you. You follow suit, an embarrassingly obscene rhythm of squelching noises fill the silence as you spasm around his dick. He collapses on top of you, but he’s still coherent enough to not dump all his weight on you. 
Your labored breaths fill the room as the two of you come to. Katsuki pulls out of you with a wince, still a bit sensitive. He gives you a peck on the lips before he drags himself down, settling in between your legs much like he was earlier. 
You tense up, “Kats, wait—”
Any and all protests cease the moment Bakugo works his tongue inside of you, slurping lewdly as he drags out the mixture of your cum and his, swallowing. He tries not to stimulate your puffy clit in an attempt to be merciful, but you still feel yourself steadily climbing to what would be your fourth orgasm this session. While the past three have been intense and drowning, this one comes to you in waves, dull pleasure invading your senses as Katsuki continues to eat you out to clean you up. 
He pulls away when you finish, your slick and his saliva coating his chin before he wipes it off on the back of his hand. You stare at his half-hard erection with a half concerned, half quizzical look. “Do you…” you lick your lips, “need help with that? I’m a little sensitive down there  but I could use my mout—”
“Nah, I’m good babe,” he says earnestly, flashing you a smile that he only ever shows around you. “I’ll be back.” With that, your boyfriend leaves the room only to come back with a bottle of water. 
“Drink.” You comply, finishing half the bottle graciously before handing it to him. He downs the rest before he settles next to you on the bed, laying on his side. You mirror him, shifting your body so that you’re both facing each other. 
Katsuki reaches out, finger idly tracing random shapes and lines onto the bare skin on your hip. He has a pensive look on his face, one that he usually doesn’t hold after stolen moments like this; it’s an expression he wears when he’s in deep thought. 
“Baby,” you call out. His eyes snap to yours, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah?”
“Whatcha thinking about?” You watch as a hesitant look flashes across your boyfriend’s face before he shakes his head.
“S’nothin’. Just thinkin’ about us two.” He speaks lightly. It’s always been difficult for him to voice his inner thoughts and feelings, so he tends to beat around the bush. You’ve learned that if you ever want something out of him, you’d have to pry a little. Katsuki always indulges you though. 
“What about us?”
“Do you- do you think you’ll ever get tired of this?” He repeats himself, clearing his throat. The question is followed by a weaker, “...of me?”
You think it’s the most ridiculous question he’s ever asked, because the answer should be obvious. “I’d never get tired of you, Katsuki. I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” he replies automatically, “but if I ever do anything that upsets you, or if I get too much for you, or if I—” he’s rambling now. Yes, it’s difficult for Katsuki to talk about his feelings, but once you manage to get him to open up, all the walls of his self-made fortress come crashing down and it’s up to you to pick up the pieces. 
“Baby,” you giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips, cupping his sharp jaw with one hand. “Look at me.” And he does— ruby eyes meeting yours. “I love you because you’re you. And I choose to be with you everyday. It’s not always gonna be perfect, no relationship is. But I know that I will always wake up and choose you.” 
You can see the anxiety melt away from Katsuki’s body, shoulders slumping as he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 
“Love you too, sap,” is all he says before he’s pulling you against his chest, squeezing you into a bearhug. You two stay that way until both of you are lulled to sleep. 
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You’re laying in bed with Katsuki, both of you dozing off when you hear a slight buzz from your phone on the nightstand. You squint as you try to read the notification, and make out that it’s from your friend.
Denki Kaminari: So did it work?
You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing, giving a quick glance over your shoulder to check on your boyfriend— fast asleep. You turn back to your phone, your thumbs making quick work at your keyboard. 
You: Just like I said it would. Thanks Denki :)
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Writing belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not share my work on Tiktok.
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f1girliefics · 5 months
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F1 Drivers when Someone is Flirting With Them - Preferences
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Max Verstappen, Danniel Ricciardo, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz x Reader
Warning: Smut
Scenario: You were out with your boyfriend, having an amazing time at a club when suddenly a girl came up and started flirting with him, right in front of you.
She was clearly a bit drunk, so you tried to be nice and tell her you are his girlfriend, but she didn't listen.
She kept on flirting no matter what he said, suddenly, she turned to you and complimented your dress.
"I also love your make-up. Is your lipgloss Fenty?"
"No. It's his cum." you replied with the most serious expression.
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Max Verstappen
He was in the middle of a sip from his drink and he spat all of it out on the floor.
Both of them were too speechless to say anything, so you took the opportunity.
"This is the part where you leave." you said and the girl quickly nodded and left.
Max watched you as your eyes followed her before you turned back to him and he still couldn't believe what you just said. 
"You are something else." he said as he finally laughed along with you.
"You know I was half joking, you can make it true." you suggested and Max didn't need to be told twice as he dragged you back to your hotel room.
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Daniel Ricciardo
He would laugh so loud everyone could hear it even with the loud music playing in the club.
He would laugh for so long, that the girl had to leave due to her embarrassment. 
"Lipgloss? Really?" he asked as he still laughed, it made you smile.
"Well, she wouldn't leave." you shrugged your shoulders as Daniel finally stopped and gave you a big kiss.
"She left now." he whispered into your ear.
"Looks like we are wearing the same brand." you said as you ran your thumb over his lips and laughed.
He soon followed with a roll of laughter. 
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Lando Norris
Lando was about to say something when you spoke up.
What you said shocked him.
You were always so innocent and cute around him and everyone, so this was completely unexpected.
But he loved this side of you as well.
Completely unexpected, but he liked it very much.
You smiled at him so innocently and he wondered how could you just say that and then go back to being so nice?
"She annoyed me." you admitted and Lando nodded.
"She was annoying. Thank you for making her leave, I tried to push her but-"
"I saw, she just didn't get it... stupid bitch." you whispered the last part and Lando looked at you surprised.
"You have quite the mouth on you."
"Yeah, well I don't want anyone stealing my boyfriend..."
"Is that why you would wear my... hmm on your lips."
"I think we have done more... interesting things before."
"We have... we for sure have." he laughed as you smiled.
He knew you were no innocent little girl, but something about you talking like that really got his imagination flowing.
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Oscar Piastri
Speechless.
Absolutely stunned.
Doesn't know what to do or say.
Zero clue.
The girl just awkwardly left as you smirked, making her finally leave.
You looked back at Oscar who was probably having a mental breakdown in complete silence right about now.
"So, I was thinking we could go to my parents for the summer." you said as you took a sip from your cocktail.
He finally came back and shook his head with a smile.
"How do you come up with this stuff?"
"What? Plans for the summer?"
"No... your lipgloss."
"Well, she was about to put your head straight into her boobs, so I had to say something."
"I love you."
"Love you too, Oscar."
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Carlos Sainz
It actually took him a moment to fully process what you just said.
The girl was long gone, you drank another cocktail when he realized what just happened.
"Why would you use it as lipgloss?" he asked and you almost laughed at how late he was to the party.
"Well... why not?" you shrugged and laughed as he smiled, eyes still filled with confusion.
You had to explain to him later that you only said that so she would leave, you didn't actually have any lipgloss on.
He still wouldn't fully get it. But now the image of his cum on your lips couldn't leave his mind.
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Charles Leclerc 
His eyes went wide as he held his laughter in, but he failed.
He actually turned to the girl and said, "This is your sign to move."
And she did, fast.
Charles smiled at you as you watched the woman leave.
"I love you so much." he said and you smiled at him. "You and your dirty mouth."
You laughed as he leaned in for a kiss.
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A/N: Shoutout to CupcakKe's Squidward Nose lyrics when she said "So can I wear your cum as clear lipgloss?" for the inspo.
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blushweddinggowns · 2 months
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“Your boyfriend,” Chirssy sighed as she picked through Nancy’s clothes, “Y’know, Steve?”
Robin blinked at her, “You think I’m dating Steve?”
That was a silly question, “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I? You guys are all over each other.”
They were. Piggy back rides, cuddling on the couch together, constantly invading each other’s personal space. The only person worse with Steve was Eddie, but Chrissy figured that just came with being best friends for over a decade. She didn’t exactly have a frame of reference for that, considering her first real friends were barely six months old. 
Chrissy just hadn’t expected Robin to burst out laughing. Hard enough to double over.
Robin wiped at her eyes, barely managing to speak through her own cackles, “That’s-oh my god. How have we fucked up this badly?” 
Chrissy could feel a flush creep up her neck, embarrassment kicking in. She hated when she wasn’t in on the joke. It usually meant that it was actually on her,  “Don't be mean.”
“No!” Robin rushed out to say, effortlessly catching on to the look on Chrissy’s face, “No! I-I don’t mean- you’re not stupid! I am. We are. For… reasons. But we aren’t dating.”
That didn’t make any sense. Unless… was Steve leading her on? Was he the type of guy to do that?
Chrissy raised a brow at her, “So what are you doing? The two of you are attached at the hip. Unless he just drives you around everywhere for fun?”
Chrissy could tell Robin was still trying not to laugh. She was failing at it too, obvious as she hid it behind her hand. 
“Stop laughing at me,” Chrissy grumbled. 
“I’m not! I’m just laughing near you,” Robin said quickly. She turned to Steve, “Hey babe, can you come over here for a second?”
He came trotting right over, leaving Eddie to argue with Nancy in his place. He kind of reminded her of a dog, but in a cute way. Like a golden retriever boyfriend. 
Robin wrapped an arm around his shoulder the second he was within reach. She grinned at him, shaking him the slightest bit, “How would you feel about us going out some time?”
Steve stared at her, obviously confused, “Huh?”
“You, me,” Robin went on, “The whole boyfriend girlfriend shtick. What do you say?”
Chrissy didn’t expect to Steve physically cringe, like the idea completely disgusted him, “Ew, no.”
Robin scoffed but she didn’t look very surprised, “Fucking rude.”
“No!” Steve said, raising his hands to placate, “I don’t mean you’re gross! I mean it would be like banging my sister!”
It was Robin’s turn to cringe, “Dude, ew.”
“See!”
Chrissy didn’t understand what was happening. She stared at them, blurting the question out, “You guys aren’t together?”
Robin did a set of jazz hands, “Nope. Absolutely zero attraction between us. See?”
“But why?” Chrissy asked, looking between the two of them, “You both seem so perfect for each other.”
“Hey Eddie,” Steve called, a weird smile on his face, “What do you think? Are Robin and I perfect for each other?”
Suddenly Robin had that same look, “Yeah. He knows Steve better than anybody. Let's have him weigh in.”
Eddie groaned as he came over, clearly eavesdropping the entire time. He left Nancy to dig around her closet, walking up next to Steve with a sigh, “Are we really doing this? Really?”
Robin gasped, faking a faint, “Are you implying that I’m not good enough for Steve?”
Steve gasped right along with her, joining in with the dramatics while Chrissy was still lost, “I think he might be.”
“As fun as this little game is,” Eddie sighed, “I think we should just tell her. I’m tired of keeping my hands to myself anyway.”
Steve looked at him, head cocked, “You think so?”
“Why not?”
Steve shrugged, his eyes landing back onto Chrissy. His voice dipped down, more serious then before. He was talking like he was speaking to Eddie, but Eddie wasn’t the one he was staring down as he spoke, “It makes sense. I think the chances of it going badly are pretty low. The alternative wouldn’t be very wise.”
Chrissy was reminded, not for the first time, why she thought Steve was the scarier one of the best friend duo. 
But then Eddie was clamping a hand onto Steve’s shoulder, pulling him closer as he mumbled in his ear, “Put the claws away angel. I highly doubt she's like that. Plus she's been through enough for one day. Don't you think?”
It was actually pretty impressive, how easily a few words had Steve’s face transforming from scarily defensive to pleasantly neutral. It nearly looked like the words made him shiver, “I-you're right. Sorry Chris. I'm just… sensitive about it “
“I have no idea what’s going on,” Chrissy said, completely unable to accept an apology that she didn’t understand, “What is happening?”
And what did Eddie just call him? 
Eddie went on, “Well… we kind of have this thing when we’re in a near death experience. Or at least adjacent to it. Where we, well, kind of let loose? So we might as well warn you about what you’re going to see beforehand.”
Chrissy stared as Steve leaned further into him, nearly too close. No, definitely too close. He was basically nuzzling the side of Eddie’s face as he spoke, “You’re making it sound like we’re going to commit public indecency in front of her. And I’m the one who needs to calm down?”
Chrissy still didn’t get it. But her brain was still trying to work it out, fitting the weird pieces together. The way they were leaning into each other. The fact that Steve, for some bizarre reason didn’t want the best girl in the country, despite the fact that Robin was right there. How Eddie was instantly able to calm him down. 
Angel.
Oh. 
Oh. 
OH. 
“Uh, you okay there Chris?” Eddie asked, watching right at the realization hit her.
She was not okay. Not because of Eddie and Steve, but because this meant Robin was single. And she had been the entire damn time. 
Chrissy shook herself out of the stupid thought, just because she wasn’t taken didn’t mean she had a chance-
“Yeah, we’re kind of the queer trio over here,” Robin added, effortlessly grinding Chrissy’s train of thought back to a halt, “I um, probably should have told you sooner but piggybacking on their coming out seems appropriate.”
Nancy snorted, her outfit choices formalized as she walked over, “If you’re the queer trio what does that make me? The straight fourth wheel?”
They were all talking about it so casually. Like the thing that has plagued Chrissy’s mind for years, filling her with guilt and doubt, didn’t matter. It was normal, it was fine, and Robin liked girls.
She was pretty sure she was going to faint. But before she could her mouth was opening, “That’s- I - Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”
Her voice came out more forceful than she expected. Though in her defense, she just found out that she had a real shot with her best friend the same day her life was in danger. She was feeling frazzled, but she corrected herself when she was met with silence, “I-I’m fine with it! Really! I j-just wish I had known.”
Nancy looked at her sympathetically, “Did you have a crush on one of them too? I get it, Steve got me the first time we started getting close. But I promise it’s not that hard to get over it.”
“No!” Chrissy said quickly, again with too much force, “I’m just surprised. T-That’s it. Everything’s fine.”
“Think you got the wrong category there Nance,” Steve mumbled under his breathe, yelping when Robin pinched his arm with a sharp glare. 
“Ignore him,” Robin said with a sad smile, “He doesn’t get everyone doesn’t have the gay gene.”
Chrissy nodded, her eyes trailing the flush that was going up Robin’s neck. Suddenly her mouth felt dry, the urge to correct her coming out full force. She shouldn’t tell them, right? It was wrong, it was bad, it didn't make sense. Because she knew they weren’t wrong. They weren’t bad. And Chrissy was so, so, tired of other people’s words invading her own thoughts. 
Nancy was laying the clothes out, the only one capable of getting everyone back on task, “Since it looks like neither of you were actually looking. I picked these out for you-”
“I have it,” Chrissy blurted out, her eyes still on the clothes on the bed. She refused to look up for any of their reactions, “The um, what you guys were talking about earlier. Me too. And I like the blue skirt.”
Nancy was the only one who didn’t miss a beat, “Ah, so now there’s four. Good for you. And I agree with the skirt, it will make you look a little taller with the heels and the elongation. We can get you to pass for a college student for sure. Robin, what do you think about the pink?”
from the next chapter of this fic
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awfcspencer · 3 months
Text
Pretty Heart || alexia putellas x reader
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alexia putellas x reader
prompt: Alexia outside stone cold persona doesn’t match the Alexia you see.
warnings: none!
Alexia took her role as captain for Barcelona very seriously. It was an absolute honor to represent her team as the captain, dreaming about times like this when she was a young girl. Alexia worked her tail off in training and in matches to gain the respect of fans, her coaches, and her teammates. She was herself’s biggest supporter and critic.
At training, Alexia was stone cold, not in a mean way by any measure of the word, but in a way of expecting the best out of her teammates. She would offer tips and advice on how to better her teammates. She never said anything she wouldn’t do herself, often times staying after on the pitch to get a few more dribbling exercises in and shooting drills. She wanted to lead by example. She typically never goofed off or really laughed during training and this only added to her serious persona as captain. On the pitch, she was focused on a single goal, get better each day.
When Alexia brought you around her teammates for the first time to say that they were surprised would be an understatement. You were loud, always joking around, and had a smile locked on your face. The complete opposite of what they usually saw from Alexia. But unlike they thought, it was not a case of opposites attract.
At home, away from the pitch, Alexia was the sweetest girl you had ever met, and she had the prettiest and biggest heart. On her way home from training, she would pick you up flowers and your favorite chocolate so often that you were running out of vases to put them in. Alexia was also incredibly happy whenever she got home to you, hoping to shower and cuddle you the rest of the night. She really liked to leave football at the door when she arrived home, completely separating work life and love life. Just as the way your smile never left your face, Alexia always had a smile plastered on her face when she was around you. You lit up Alexia’s life, just as much as she lit up your life.
Alexia was also one of the funniest people ever, often telling her that if football doesn’t work out that she would make bank as a comedian. Alexia had a way of adding one-liners to your guys conversations that made you laugh until you had tears in your eyes and your abs hurt. The secret was that Alexia loved to make you laugh, your laugh warmed her heart and she could listen to your laugh all day every day. Simply just music to her ears.
For this particular Barcelona match, you were getting a small dinner after to celebrate and meet a few of her teammates a bit better. You understood slightly that Alexia was a little two sided, one side with you and one side with her teammates, but you unaware at the drastic difference.
At the table was you, Alexia, Lucy, Ona, Mapi, and Ingrid. It was a low key, in the wall sort of restaurant, hoping to have a quiet night and enjoy one another’s company. Conversations flowed effortlessly at the table.
“So, what is Alexia like at home? Does she boss you around like she does us?” Lucy asks you in a joking manner.
“What? Definitely not. If anything, I have to always get on her to remember to do her laundry or the dishes.” You tell the group. It is interesting to hear that Alexia is so different between with you and with her teammates.
“I can not imagine Alexia being captained around.” Mapi adds. Mapi was probably the next closest person to really know Alexia and she was still widely unaware of Alexia’s true soft nature. At this point in the conversation, Alexia has a deep red blush on her cheeks and while the other members of the dinner were unaware, she was clutching your hand as she played with the rings on your hand under the table. If anyone were to see Alexia now, they wouldn’t be able to even fathom that she was a serious captain who believed in a ‘work hard play hard’ mentality.
“I guess Alexia is just a two-sided mystery.” you joke out, now fully understanding the vast difference of character.
The dinner carried on as did the conversations. Whenever you made small comments or little stories about your Alexia, her teammates could now see the fun, joking, and sweet side of Alexia. She would crack jokes at the table and she slowly came out of her captaincy shell. The dinner was finished and you had a lovely time, giving everyone a quick hug before walking out with Alexia.
When you both returned home, you wanted to ask Alexia about it.
“Hey Ale, why do your teammates make it seem like you are some hard-nosed captain that has like a no fun zone sign on your head” you questioned to her.
“I am their captain baby, I want to be respected.” she answered as if it was completely simple.
While you understood the point she was trying to make, it did make you a little sad at the thought that they didn’t really know the true Alexia. The Alexia that cried at any dog movie where the dog dies. The Alexia that refused to go to bed until she got a proper kiss goodnight. The Alexia that had to be holding your hand or really just be in your space 24/7. The Alexia that whined like a baby when you would leave to go to work, complaining as the bed was too cold when you left her side. Your Alexia.
“I get it, I do. But maybe if you showed a little bit more of you, your pretty heart baby, then it could honestly help the team more. You know like showing even the captain is human.” you explained to her.
“Yeah maybe, but I am only agreeing because you’re too cute to make upset.” she stated as she moved you and her to the couch so you two can cuddle and continue your binge watch of Love Island.
This is where you knew Alexis was most relaxed and comfortable, beside you, in your shared private home. A small fuzzy blanket thrown over the two of you as her hands found yours. Giving her a small kiss on the temple before beginning the episode.
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veala2 · 7 months
Text
“ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ꜱʜᴇɴᴀɴɪɢᴀɴꜱ.”
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☀︎ luffy, zoro, sanji, ace, sabo. ☀︎
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SYNOPSIS - Some mornings are the same, some change for the better or the worse. But being with your boyfriend will always be something different. And definitely something stupid. ft. Izou in Ace’s!
CW - nothing but silliness and fluff, as per usual. gn! reader, mentions of throwing up (as a joke), some perverted- ness (sanji), and that’s it.
A/N - when I tell you this idea was so random. My aunt gave me this idea after telling me about how she almost died on her own acid reflux when she woke up. Anyways, enjoy!
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Holy SHIT when I tell you how messy this man’s morning routine is, it.. well, it won’t shock you ‘cause it’s Luffy.
The moment you open your eyes, you're hit with Luffy snoring, drooling, and hot breath right up in your face.
Not to mention he’s practically turned himself into a pretzel cuddling you. You have to detangle your stretchy boyfriend every morning.
He wakes up, confused on how he managed to get on the floor.
A series of giggles followed in pursuit of Luffy gargling mouthwash in his mouth, proceeding to then shoot it out like a spray bottle into the sink. Whether day or night, your goofy boyfriend always did manage to make you laugh.
“Luffy! You got mouthwash all over the sink!” You said, trying to stay serious, a smile on your face despite your efforts to scold him. He shot you back a toothy grin. A shiny grin, you threw in, from all the cleaning you forced him to endure.
“Wasn’t my fault. My tongue felt like it was on fire!” He retorted, sticking his tongue as if to show legitimate fire, hot and blazing.
The night before, your boy feasted himself on the meat of an extremely large animal he caught. He gobbled the thing down, and it was too little too late before you realized how rank his breath was from it.
He passed out, leaving you exasperated and annoyed.
“Well, captain, next time brush your teeth before you head to bed. Your breath reeked, it’s a miracle I’m still alive right now.” You retorted, pinching his round cheeks. Luffy let you stretch his face out and play around with his features, causing you to giggle. Letting go, you place a chaste kiss on his lips, before going back to brushing your own teeth.
“But… you can get away with it this time ‘cause your cute.”
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Zoro is a late sleeper and an early riser on most days. But, when Nami say’s the skies are clear and there isn’t a single marine in sight, he will take this slim opportunity to sleep in for hours.
When you wake, you're not greeted with his face. Rather, his sculpted back and a strong arm around your torso that he kept for the entire night.
He snoozes into his pillow, face first. As if he’s completely dead to the world.
Well… there have been times you thought so.
Literally.
Rays of the morning sun hit your face as you wake up from a night of well deserved rest. Being a pirate is a tiring and thankless lifestyle, so a night’s rest feels like heaven. You think this, silently laughing to yourself as you slept next to the ‘king of hell’, ironically enough.
Zoro’s out cold. His effortless back on prominent display, embraced by the sun’s glow.
You smile to yourself, admiring his features that aren’t so obviously impressive to some. Surprisingly, you couldn’t hear any snoring from the swordsman. Almost as if he was actually dead…
“Zoro… honey, wake up.” You whisper, hands grabbing both of his shoulders to wake him. He give’s no response in return, causing you some worry. “Zoro, c’mon, it’s time to get up.”
Yet again, nothing. The worry was starting to take over, so you leaned down to check for any signs of him breathing. In the blink of an eye, your swordsman boyfriend lifts his upper body up, knocking you in the nose.
“Yawn, ‘morning. Babe, what are you doing holding your nose like tha-“ Before he could finish the question, he was greeted by you with a loving pillow to his face.
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At the start of your relationship, the idea of being near you all the time already made him all heart- eyed and cheerful. So, when you suggested sleeping in the same bed, this man was over the moon and beyond!
He’d stay as still as a plank, not wanting to move or disturb you in your realm of slumber.
Sanji would be so happy, he’d make you bed in breakfast when you woke up!
Now that the two of you have been together for a while, he’s gotten used to cuddling you and being the big spoon.
But, that doesn’t stop him from surprising you now and then.
“Sanji, you really don’t need to keep doing this.”
You say to him, as if it would stop him from setting the lovingly decorated tray in front of you with a giddy smile.
“Nonsense! I insist on taking care of my precious partner. A man can show his love in many ways, and I’m no ordinary, greasy and gross man. Mine is just a fraction of what I can do for you, my love!”
His proclamation of love made your cheeks turn red, a dreamy sigh escaping your lips. It didn’t take you long after your relationship with Sanji started that you realised you were in for the long haul. Through thick and thin, young and old, the strawhat chef is honestly and inexplicably in love with you.
He sat beside you, placing his head on your shoulder and sighing lovingly. You brought a spoon up to your mouth and took the first bite, eyes lighting up.
“Wow,” you gasped, “you remembered my favourite breakfast!” You happily munched down on the hot meal, cheeks stuffed and nose hit with the delicious aroma. “You tend to remember all my favourite things, huh?”
“Of course! I know your favourite meals, favourite smells, music, clothes… under garments. Like your favourite underwear you’re wearing right now-“
“SANJI!”
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It’s a 50/50 chance with your hot boyfriend if your morning is gonna be filled with passionate kisses, cuddling, maybe some extra time in bed…
Or having him come back from an early morning mission, stinky and sweaty (like his brother), and absolutely, positively, drool all over you.
Unfortunately, you let it slide. ‘Cause he’s a hottie with an even hotter body.
Nevertheless, there are some days when you just want to kick him out and get a couple hours of sleep without the need of throwing up yesterday’s dinner. Thatch would be pissed!
“I’m telling you, Izou, he just keeps doing it! Next time it happens, and I smell it-” You stop yourself, before bringing a free hand up to make a slashing motion near your neck. The sniper got a quick chuckle out of that.
“Precisely the reason pirates should avoid intimate relationships.” He stated, taking a sip of his morning tea. You scoffed.
“Well, that’s boring. And besides, it’s no use on me, his puppy- dog eyes always bring me back to why I love him.” You sigh. As if on cue, your goofy boyfriend comes bursting through the door. Scratches on his face and body, in one hand he carries a large bag of jingling gold, and the other hides behind his back.
“Baby! I’m back from my mission, hope I didn’t keep you waiting! Oh, ‘morning, Izou.” He greets you and his friend. You pout, looking at his muddy and dirty outfit.
“Hope you don’t expect to come back to bed with me like that.” You mumbled, taking a sip of your drink. Planting a kiss on your head, he gets down on one knee and looks you in the eye.
“I know you don’t like it when I come home dirty, and I promise I’ll try my best to clean up for you. On my way back, I passed by a hill and thought you might like this.”
Ace pulls out a bunch of pretty flowers, making you gasp. You couldn’t help but feel cheery, smelling the flowers and giving him a big ‘ol smooch. Izou tsk’s and walks out of the kitchen.
“Kids these days.”
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You wouldn’t guess it by looking at him, but Sabo takes pretty good care of himself.
His seamless, flawless skin is not entirely genetic. The countless skincare products scattered among his bathroom sink is the answer to that question.
Didn’t take long for you to start using it as well, leaving him to catch you in the act. He’d come busting through the door like SWAT when you put on his moisturiser.
They were just sitting there, ready to be used! Was this really your fault, though? Sabo definitely thinks so.
Like thunder, the mahogany door slammed open, leaving you to scream and jump. You turn your head, eyes wide and freightened. Not at the thought of who it might be. Oh, no. Rather, who you already know and what he might do.
“I knew it! Love, you gotta stop using my products, I’m running out twice as quickly and it’s a bitch to get more.” He sighs, eyebrows furrowed, already grabbing a towel to wipe down your wet face.
He gently ran the fluffy material all over your face. Making sure to not poke your eyes. Even when your boyfriend is mad at you, he can’t help but take care of you. Kind of weird considering he was trying to be mad at you, getting a chuckle out of you.
“I’m sorry, hon. I just felt really gross when I woke up, and thought how nice everything you have looked.”
He huffed, puffing his cheeks out and placing his hands on his hips. You couldn’t help but laugh again, grabbing his face and placing a long kiss on his cheek.
“‘Tell you what, I’ll go out today and get you more stuff. And, I’ll keep buying you this stuff if you let me use it. We got a deal, sweet thing, mr. love-of-my-life?”
Sabo sighed, grabbing you by the waist and giving you a proper kiss.
“Sure, baby, sure.”
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strawb3rrystar · 2 months
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I need some wholesomeness after HH episode 8 wrecked my emotional state: can I get the HH gals reacting to their S/O proposing to them?
Hazbin Hotel girls getting proposed to.
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Pairing: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Velvette, Lute, Cherri Bomb, Carmilla Carmine, Rosie x GN! Reader
Warnings: Mentions drinking on Cherri's part
Word count: 258
✰Masterlist
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Charile will squeal, and start crying when you show her the ring. When you stand up she'll tackle you while bawling her eyes out. She's dreamed of this day since you both started dating, how could she ever turn you down.
Vaggie's eye will get wide when you get down on one knee. She will be in complete shock and will be speechless. All she can do is nod her head in response.
Velvette won't be surprised at all, she already knew you were going to propose to her. Instead, she surprises you by also pulling out a ring. So basically you guys just propose to each other.
Lute will think it's a joke that Adam set you up to do and won't be impressed at first. But once you tell her it's not a joke and that you're being serious, she will apologize for making assumptions. Afterwards she will accept your proposal and give you a cheek kiss.
Cherri Bomb will get super excited when she see's you pull out a ring. Of course she accepts and the two of you celebrate by getting wasted.
Carmila Carmine is completely shocked by your sudden proposal. However, she's always trying to do what's best for her girls so she might reject you. If her daughters convince Carmila that you the right sinner for her, then she'll accept.
Rosie will be extremely flattered by your proposal. She'll kiss you all over your face as she tells you she loves you. She promises she won't eat you, unlike her last husband!
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Star's notes -> Added four new girls to the roister! Lets see if you guys like them!
(Thank you, sweet anon, for requesting!) (Requests are open!)
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