#he isn’t sure it’s her at first until he sees her meet up with the other halfas

[cannedpickledpeaches]

Insert Your Name (12)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to part one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven!

Notes and TW: Last chapter! Side stories will follow. Thank you for sticking with this series for so long! This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Tags: @guava-enjoyer @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe @chikitasmol @night-shadowblood-writes2 @haveneulalie @owodi

7:30 P.M. DD/MM/YYYY

I thought I knew the truth for a while—that this world existed inside a story. That this was a world which revolved around a nameless, faceless, flawless main character. This entire world around me existed to serve one purpose: to present trials to the main character until she eventually finds a happy ending with her one and only. This world was created for “(Y/N).”

I was Friend A. Friend A was never mentioned again after page two of that story.

It turns out that I was sort of wrong. This world is made for stories, from stories, and (Y/N) happened to be the main character at the time. Now that I’m the author, I made myself the main character.

You wrote “story” and “world” so much that they hardly look like real words anymore. The tip of your pen hovers over the first page of your journal. It’s your first time keeping one, and you aren’t certain how to proceed. What tone do you use? Should it be informal or professional? How long should each entry be? How detailed should you make it?

The trapdoor to the attic flips open. Floyd’s head pokes through it like a garden eel in the sand.

“Whatcha doin’ over there? Still lookin’ for that manuscript?”

You shake your head. The manuscript for (Y/N)’s story disappeared without a trace after your meeting with Hans. No matter how hard you searched, nothing turned up, so you could only assume he retrieved it.

“No use in looking for it. I’m starting on my journal.” The pen twirls in your hand. “I’m not really sure how I want to write it.”

He hoists himself up and saunters over to where you’re curled up at the window. He peers at your handwriting. Flippantly, he flops on the floor next to you and yawns.

“Who caaares. Write whatever ya feel like writin’. It’s not like the one before was any good.”

The previous author’s manuscript was riddled with inconsistencies, plot holes, and grammar mistakes. It wouldn’t be a massive problem. Hans would simply have to work harder to fill in the gaps.

“The previous one failed, though.”

“Then just don’t fail.” He grins up at you. “Easy, right?”

You pinch his nose, laughing when he swats at your hand.

“Easier said than done.” Despite that, his words ease the burden on your shoulders just a bit. You don’t need to overthink this. It’s your story, yours to tell however you’d like. “Thanks for the advice, though.”

“Sure, sure.” Your name rolls off his tongue dismissively. “You worry too much.”

You glance at him. “You’ve been calling me ‘Red Handfish’ recently, why’d you switch back to my name?”

The lamplight glints in Floyd’s eyes briefly, then he closes them. A lazy grin spreads on his lips.

“I was calling ya ‘Red Handfish’ ’cuz I was hopin’ you’d get your hands all red and bloody again.” A huff of air escapes him. “Shoulda been there when you beat up the security.”

“Typically, you’re supposed to not hope I’m beating up your men.”

“It’s fine. Not like Jade and I need much protectin’.” His voice quiets down to a mumble. “You’re enough for security or whatever.”

His voice trails off at the end. Soon, quiet snores fill the attic. Seeing that he isn’t planning on disrupting your writing, your attention returns to your journal. Following his advice might not be a bad idea.

My main priority was to break the curse on Mr. and Mrs. Leech. I thought I’d have to ask (Y/N) to reach out to Vil Schoenheit or write something in this journal, but it turns out I didn’t have to do anything. Hans went ahead and nudged the odds in my favour already. At least, I suspect he had a hand in it. But I’m never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I’ll happily accept that Walrus’s team and our own people have found a way to break the curse.

Azul was slightly disappointed that he didn’t manage to find a method on his own. He really wanted to put the twins in his debt, but I guess he’ll have to sulk. His specialty is potions, after all. Not curses. He’s also a little salty because this implies Vil Schoenheit is still more skilled than him on the subject of curses. His competitive nature never dies down when it comes to other competent people, even after all these years.

Anyway, the curse was undone three days ago. They’ve woken up perfectly stable and healthy, if a little tired. The twins have spent nearly every waking hour in their room. I’m glad they’re all looking much more lively.

Their parents wanted to go right back to work, but Jade and Floyd have been very insistent on making sure they rest. Right now, Jade and his parents have decided to split up the work equally, but Jade plans on eventually relinquishing his position as the temporary head of the Leech Mafia. He doesn’t want it back anytime soon. His parents might want him to keep observing their work, but I think he’ll take a long breather after the Carpenter Mafia dissolves. He says he wants to join a research lab on fungi. I’m sure he’ll enjoy himself there.

Speaking of Jade’s interests, Floyd owes him quite a bit for breaking his terrariums. You cast a glance at the twin dozing off on the floor. Jade’s been working him hard. Just as you’re about to pull a knitted blanket off the window seat and drape it over his torso, Jade climbs up to the attic.

“Ah, I thought I might find you two here.” He ignores your shushing motion, speaking nearly louder than his usual conversational volume. “Have you made any progress on that journal?”

“Keep it down, Floyd’s sleeping.”

“Oh? I suppose he is.” He smiles as though he’s entirely innocent. “Even though he should be running an errand on the west side of the city right now. Isn’t that so, my dear brother?”

Floyd stirs, brows furrowing as he grumbles. “Fuck off, man.”

“I’m afraid you’re late. Why don’t you head out? It wouldn’t do for you to procrastinate.” Jade leans over him, his shadow eclipsing Floyd’s face. The latter gripes some more before rolling away and hopping right through the trapdoor. His footsteps echo through the halls, eventually leading to the sound of the front door.

“He’s tired. You should let him rest.” You close your journal and set it beside you.

He kneels by your seat and rests his head on your knee. Gingerly, you reach out and comb your fingers through his hair. His entire body melts against the wall and your knee.

“I am also tired.” His eyelids drop halfway, a pitiable pout on his lips. “Much more so than he is, I’m sure.”

“And what? You want a gold medal for the Fatigue Olympics?” Despite your words, your other hand holds his jaw, thumb brushing over his cheek. “Come on, get off the floor. It can’t be comfortable.”

He sighs in contentment. “With the way you’re touching me, I have half a mind to stay where I am.”

You’ve come to realize that Jade acts this way when he’s looking for attention, and he only actively looks for attention from you. With a sigh escaping the smile on your lips, you ease his head off your knee and move your legs so that your feet touch the floor. He has the gall to look like a kicked puppy.

“You’re so dramatic.” You pat the cushioned space next to you. “Sit up here.”

It’s like his fatigue disappears as soon as you extend the invitation. He wastes no time in sitting next to you, his thigh pressing against yours. One of his hands reaches behind you. You feel it causing the cushions to shift under you as he uses it to support his weight. Strangely, it feels more intimate than if he had touched you directly. The knowledge that his arm is there creates a sense of security. Sturdy, safe, like the face of a cliff that has your back. He’ll never be a threat to you. You think back to what you once thought of people who trust Jade, and you wonder if you’re a fool, desperate, or if you have something on him.

It might not be so bad to be a fool once in a while.

You lean into his side and rest your head on his shoulder. A pause, followed by the light pressure of his cheek against your hair. His body is cool to the touch like always, and you find comfort in it.

“I’ll help you make new terrariums to replace the ones Floyd broke.”

“How kind of you.” The hand behind you lifts, only to find its place on your waist, securing you to his side. “In that case, I should consider what I’d like to grow in them. Lichen would decorate some surfaces well, but I doubt it would be possible.”

“Lichen?” You often see it back home near the shore. “Why not?”

“It cannot survive in a closed system like my terrariums.” His voice lowers to a soft, almost sweet tone. “It requires clean, fresh air, outside the confines of a box that I control. The charm of keeping a terrarium is that I control every factor within it, down to what lives or dies. But despite the fact that it eludes my grasp, I adore observing its beauty in the environment where it thrives.”

Somehow, you don’t think he’s talking about lichen anymore.

“Lichen grows on trees and rocks, right?” You think about the cliffside. Patches of pale green life covered the rocks where you met Jade. It brought a sort of earthy, rustic quality to the area. “It’s pretty. I think I’ve seen a few of your photos focusing on it.”

“Yes, it needs to be anchored to a sturdy surface.” He adjusts his grip on your waist. “Unassuming, allowing other elements of the scenery to shine, but charming and effective in its own right.”

You don’t want to ask if he’s referring to you. He’ll surely tease you for being self-absorbed. However, you are not so prideful as to not acknowledge what he’s trying to say.

“I sort of understand wanting to be anchored to something.” You place one hand over his. “It’s easier to let my guard down when there’s something that can protect my back.”

“Allow me to assist you with that.” He intertwines your fingers. “If you must be anchored to something, I’ll be more than happy to provide you with support forever, until you ask me to stop.”

“All this talk about ‘forever.’” A grin pulls at your lips. There’s no harm in teasing him once in a while. “It’s like you’re trying to marry me. What’s with that, huh?”

His entire body freezes. You lift your head from his shoulder, trying to look at his face.

“Jade? I was joking—”

He gently presses against your temple, his wrist blocking your eyes as he guides your head back down to his shoulder. What a letdown. This time, you really wanted to see his expression.

“Incidentally,” he says, “would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?”

“You changed the topic way too abruptly.” Laughter bubbles in your throat. “I thought you were better at making conversation than that.”

“I’m inclined to disagree.” He doesn’t elaborate. “Are you free tomorrow evening? We can book a reservation for that restaurant you wanted to try.”

Usually, you wouldn’t turn it down. But . . .

“Sorry, I’ll be out with (Y/N) all day.” You’ve missed her. And after she called you in distress over losing the polaroids you took together, you promised to replace them with new ones. There’s so much you have yet to do with her. “Maybe the day after?”

Jade sighs loudly, as though he’s the most pitiful being in the world. Amidst teasing laughter, you close your journal and focus your attention on him. It’s alright to take your time writing it. Your story is a process that does not need to be rushed. It may only be a page at the moment, but one day, you’re sure this journal will fill with your experiences, plans, and thoughts. You will continue on living as your own person—not a side character or a main character in a grander scheme, but as yourself. To live as a human being with your unique experiences—that is your story.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #jade leech #twst jade #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #twst fanfic #mafia au #floyd leech #multi chap fic #slow burn has burned #thanks for reading so far!

[little-pondhead]

There was another timeline.

One that, at the moment, only Clockwork and a single other person knew about. Both of whom has separately vowed to never let the timeline exist ever again.

That time was dark. It was bloody. The skies were painted red and the oceans boiled. The dead walked the Earth with a freedom not even the living could achieve. It was like the pits of hell had opened up and spit out the things even the Devil couldn’t bear to look at. It made the Dark Ages look like a middle school girl’s slumber party on Halloween.

It was the timeline where Danielle successfully replaced Danny. Both as Phantom, and as a Fenton.

She replaced Danny, under the orders of Vlad. And then she did more. She grew up, committing more and more crimes at Vlad’s command, gaining infamy and hate, eventually surpassing Vlad’s own reputation as a violent ghost.

Vlad knew she’d grown too powerful by the time she was biologically fourteen, the same age Danny had been when Danielle had shattered his core and eaten it. Vlad knew this, and thought the same trick would work again.

He tried to replace Danielle with another clone.

It didn’t work.

In that timeline, Danielle killed Vlad, absorbing his ghost half, just like Dan did. She became Eleanor, the Queen of Death, and ravaged the Earth for many years. Due to the power boost of consuming two other halfas, Eleanor was more powerful than any other variant of herself, Danny, or Dan that Clockwork could find. The only reason she did not expand to other dimensions, was because Danny was not around long enough to pass on the knowledge of time travel, and how to reach Clockwork’s tower.

It was a dark time. But Clockwork’s fears have been laid to rest, as the Dani of the current time had NOT replaced Danny. In fact, she’d been adopted into the Fenton family with open arms, and the Vlad of this world was less psychotic since he didn’t have a mental break. No Fentons died and caused Dan, and Amity has accepted the various Phantoms and other ghosts with open arms. It was the best possible course of events.

Nothing could go wrong, right? Eleanor was a secret Clockwork would take to his grave, if he ever got one. Not even the Observants knew about it.

Booster Gold, however, did not swear to keep the timeline a secret. He swore to prevent the timeline.

No matter what.

#DPxDC #pondhead blurbs #it’s three am I literally woke up to type this #just #booster gold is from Eleanor’s timeline #he’s technically the only survivor #because eventually Eleanor kills off the entire universe there #she’s immortal and quite literally nothing can stop her #so imagine his terror when he sees a child version of the greatest disaster in history skipping down the street after stealing a hot dog #he isn’t sure it’s her at first until he sees her meet up with the other halfas #he has no idea what to do #but he CANNOT let Eleanor happen #Eleanor’s wrath AU #I’m naming it that shut up

[mostly-imagines]

Hi!! If you're up to it do you think you could write something about the first time Jason brings his gf to the manor. Like maybe he brings her in but doesn't tell anyone and so everyone is trying to sneak a glimpse of her??

meet the family

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason has a girlfriend???

warnings: none

The manor sits full as ever—a cloud of mild boredom sweeping over the Wayne clan.

Dick sits perched on top of an armchair reading a catalog, Stephanie’s splayed out across the couch, Cass is bundled up in blankets atop the ottoman, and Damian leans up against the center table from the floor.

It’s a relatively slow afternoon, until Tim comes bursting into the room, out of breath.

“There’s a girl here!”

Everybody looks at him, disinterest scattered across the room. “There’s a couple of ‘em.” Dick says, flipping through the pages of the magazine.

Tim huffs, “No! In Jason’s room—he has a girl in there!” Eyebrows shoot up at that.

“Now I know you’re lying.” Damian mutters.

Tims head snaps over to Damian. “Dude, go see for yourself. I heard her!”

“You really think Jason would bring a girl here and not even introduce us?” Steph asks, unconvinced.

“Yeah.”

“Yes.”

“Obviously.”

Cassandra nods fervently.

“Okay, yeah. Maybe.” Stephanie mutters. “I bet he’ll introduce me before any of you guys, though.”

Dick barks out a laugh, “You’re nothing short of delusional if you think he’s introducing any of us.”

“We’ll have to take matters into our own hands, then.” Tim says, decidedly.

Damian audibly sighs and rolls his eyes.

“I’m meeting her first.” Steph confirms. “I’ll put money down right now.”

“Meet her or see her?” Cass signs.

“Same thing.” Stephanie shrugs.

Dick shoots up from his seat, “First person to see her gets to be the ring bearer!” He announces, racing out of the room.

Knock knock knock knock knock…

Knock knock.

It takes a good forty seconds, but Jason opens the door, an annoyed frown already on his face.

Dick gives him his brightest smile. It beams of deceit in Jason's eyes. “Hey man. What’cha doing?”

He crosses his arms. “What do you want?”

Dick tries to peer around Jason into the room, but Jason made a point of barely opening the door and his large frame isn’t doing Dick any favors right now.

“Just wanted to say hey…You wanna hang out?”

“No.”

Dick lingers awkwardly. “…Are you sure?”

Jason shuts the door.

A couple minutes later, Tim comes running up the stairs. He opts to skip over the courtesy of knocking and go straight for barging through the door himself. Or he would’ve, if Jason hadn’t seen that coming from a mile away and locked it.

“Fuck off, Tim!” Jason calls from inside the room.

“You lost your right to privacy the second you walked in this house!” He shouts back, hitting his fist against the door.

And Tim swears he can hear a sweet laugh as he trudges away. The authenticity of that claim will be heavily debated downstairs for the next several minutes.

Not even a thirty seconds later, Stephanie comes a knockin’. Jason opens the door wordlessly, patience clearly dissipating more and more.

“Hey, Jason! I can’t find my comm, you wouldn’t happen to have it, would you?”

His face deadpans. “No, Steph.”

Stephanie clicks her tongue, “Can you check?”

He stares at her.

“Actually you’re right, it would be faster if I did.” Stephanie tries to push past him into the room, but Jason, unsurprisingly, doesn’t budge.

“Stephanie.”

“I just want to meet her!” She pleads. “I won’t even tell the others, I’ll just say you wouldn’t let me in either!”

“Bye.” He closes the door.

He doesn’t make it all the way back to the bed before the next knock, singular and short.

Jason snaps the door open again, looking down at Damian with a glare.

Never one to waste any time, “Is there a girl in here?” Damian asks, seeming thoroughly disinterested in the answer.

Jason shuts the door in his face.

Several minutes later, another, quieter knock. Jason’s groan can be heard from outside the room. He pulls open the door once again.

It’s Cass.

She stares at him.

He stares at her.

“Can I say hi to her?” She signs.

Jason sighs. “I’ll pass along the message.”

She smiles and turns back down the hall.

Jason closes and locks the door once again, trudging back over to the bed where you lay. He collapses onto your chest, your arms wrapping around each others bodies immediately.

“Cass says hi.” He mumbles, the sound obscured by his face-down position.

“That message would be a lot more meaningful if I actually knew Cass.”

He groans. “You don’t want to meet them.”

“I do.” You say, running your fingers through his hair. “And I think you do too, or you wouldn’t have brought me to the house where the world's best detectives live.”

“I’m starting to regret it now.”

“Come on. Please?” You plead.

He picks his head up to look at you.

“Are you sure?” He asks with a grimace.

“Absolutely.” You say, topping it off with a kiss on his cheek.

He sighs.

Well. It’s never been within Jason’s skill set to deny you, anyways.

You descend the stairs hand in hand with Jason, his energy mopier than usual. You can hear a gaggle of voices coming from a room ahead, all talking over one another.

“Okay, Tim, you climb up outside the window and—”

“—It’s your plan, you scale the side of the house.”

Jason drops his head and mutters a “Jesus Christ…” as you near the commotion.

You give him a reassuring smile and pat his back as you both move into the doorway.

Everyone’s heads snap to the doorway, eyes wide and waiting.

Jason takes a deep breath like he’s stealing himself for torture. “Guys…This is my girlfriend.”

“Hi.” You smile sweetly, waving to the room.

There’s a moment of still silence before the room erupts.

“Hold on—”

“—my god, she’s so pretty!”

“Oh wow—”

“Wait, what?”

”—You’re real?”

“—didn’t place that bet.”

Stephanie comes scurrying up to you and grabs both of your hands in hers. “Hi, I’m Steph!” She says with a beaming smile. “What’s your name?”

“I’m—”

But the others are right on her tail, crowding around you.

“We didn’t even know Jason had a girlfriend.” Tim says.

“Still not convinced.” Damian mumbles from the back.

Cass waves and signs something to you.

“She says we’re really happy to meet you, which we are.” Dick tells you.

Damian moves closer within the huddle and inspects you closely. You have no idea what he’s inspecting you for. You don’t need to dwell on it for long because Jason pushes his head away from you with mild force making Damian scowl.

“Did he bring you here to meet us? The others said—” Stephanie asks.

Jason cuts her off, already knowing exactly where that sentence was going. “I brought her here to show her my old room.”

Dick snickers, “Oh, is that what you were off doing?”

“Watch it.” Your boyfriend warns.

You nudge him with your elbow, be nice.

Tim moves closer to you, narrowing his eyes. “So you’ve like, spent time with him and everything? And you still want to be around him?”

“Okay and you’re done.” Jason takes your hand and leads you out of the room and back down the hallway.

“No wait!”

You’re already out of the room and into another and then another before you can even realize that you’re headed for the front door.

You stop in your tracks, pulling him to a halt as well. “What about—”

Jason shakes his head. “You don’t want to meet him.”

You lower your chin at him, “Jay. Do you want me to meet him?”

He’s silent and doesn’t look like he particularly does.

You sigh, “Okay, do you want him to meet me?”

“I—yeah…” he trails, and you give him your best sweet eyes, the ones that he knows he has no business saying no to. “I…okay. Okay.”

He leads you down another hallway, the sounds of his siblings clambering echoing in the distance. You end up in a room that looks like a never used study, where Jason pushes on one of the walls. It slides open with a bit of force from him, revealing a door with a keypad next to it.

He types a series of numbers into it, and opens it up to a narrow passageway that looks remarkably like a cave.

The passageway leads down to a set of stairs, and you can hear the loud sound of water in the distance.

You’re quite nervous about walking into the Batcave, but you know Jason wouldn’t bring you anywhere near it unless he was sure it would be okay. Okay for you that is, more so than his father.

“Careful. It’s slippery.” Jason holds your hand the whole way down anyway, making sure to linger no more than a step and a half in front of you.

You see Bruce Wayne, sitting at a desk with a large array of computer screens in front of it, and case files scattered all throughout the surface.

He doesn’t acknowledge your entrance, though you have to imagine if Jason got his observation skills from anywhere, it would be him.

As you approach, Jason switches your hands so that his right is holding your left. The result has his figure half covering you, you can only assume partially limiting Bruce’s view of you.

“Bruce.”

Bruce turns his chair around, regarding Jason with a raised chin. The greeting is somehow even more formal than you’d expected.

“Jason.” He readdresses his gaze to you. “Who’s this?”

Jason has a hell of a feeling that Bruce already knows exactly who you are. He’s probably known about you since you started dating. He would’ve had to, to not be pissed as hell that Jason brought a civilian into the cave.

Jason introduces you, his hand reluctantly letting go as you step forward to shake Bruce’s.

Bruce looks surprised, though pleasantly so. He smiles and shakes it kindly.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” He says.

“You too, I’ve heard a lot about you.” You say, smiling.

He laughs, “Oh, I bet.” Looking to Jason, he says, “I can’t say I’ve had the same pleasure, unfortunately.”

Though Jason’s behind you now, you can practically feel him roll his eyes.

“No, I can’t imagine him sharing anything unprovoked.” Bruce smiles widely at that.

He opens his mouth to say something else, but Jason, who’s probably on the brink of losing his mind down here, interrupts.

“Alright. Time to go.” Jason says, grabbing your hand again. He doesn’t give you much time to protest before he’s guiding you by the waist past him and towards the stairs.

You let him nudge you out and call over your shoulder, “It was nice meeting you!”

He’s halfway up the stairs as you exit, only to be stopped by Bruce addressing him again.

“Jason.”

Jason stalls his steps, turning around slowly. You’re out of the cave now, and Jason’s not excited to be alone with his Dad for even a minute. It doesn’t help that he has no idea what he’ll say.

“She’s kind.” Bruce says, simply.

“Yes.”

He tilts his head at Jason, observing him. “You love her?”

Jason looks at the ground. “Yes.”

Bruce nods. “Good.”

He returns to his work at the computers wordlessly, and Jason has to take a moment to realign himself before he climbs the rest of the stairs.

Jason doesn’t particularly seek his fathers approval, nor does he place any definable value on it. However, hearing him give his own version of his blessing to you struck something inside Jason. Something deep in his chest.

He re-enters the study, finding it empty. He walks out into the hallway, where you’re nowhere to be found. Despite being halfway across the house by this point, he can distinctly hear his siblings chattering in the living room. Chattering. And chattering. And chattering…

Oh god, you went back to the living room.

As Jason approaches the conversation becomes clearer.

“—long have you been together, anyways?”

“Well—”

Stephanie gasps suddenly, cutting you off. “Oh wait, you have to meet Alfred!”

“Oh, we’ve already met.” You tell her.

Dick’s head snaps up. “What? When?”

Jason enters the room, draping his arm around your shoulder. “About six months before you met her.”

A chorus of gasps and shouts ring out.

“What?”

#hey alia #jason todd loves his gf #jason todd x you #jason todd/you #jason todd imagine #jason todd/reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #batfam x you #batfam imagine #batfam fanfiction #batfam fanfic #batfam x reader #batfam dynamics

[rinhaler]

hey hey, ik ur requests are closed so im gonna leave this till u open them back up,

imagine Yakuza Boss!Toji bucking his hips into you, bored out of his mind at his meeting, you’re cute whimpers and whines for him to slow down slightly amusing him as a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, all this happening while his most trusted subordinates watch as he fucks into you at this meeting, while you just sit on his lap babbling about how good he feels until he finally makes you squirt, causing him to stop the meeting and kick everybody out so he can abuse your little hole some more, wanting to see you squirt for him more. :3

I feel like I went a little off script and I threw some Shiu in there too bc we're all sluts for Shiu right?? Bon apetit!

warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap, possessiveness, slight jealousy, slightly mean toji, dom!toji, exhibitionism, public sex, oral fixation, squirting, daddy!kink, DDLG esque?, pussy spanks.

words: 1.6k

“She shouldn’t be in here.” Shiu comments, his boss gives him a passive stare before looking in your direction. You sit politely with your hands in your lap and a shy smile, looking awkwardly around the room full of terrifying men. “She shouldn’t be listening to the shit we’re discussing.”

“I shouldn’t be listening to this shit, either. What the fuck do I pay you all for?” Toji responds, putting his arm around the back of your seat as he scoffs. “She’s needy, she needs constant attention and I know all you filthy fucks have got your eye on her so I don’t want her out of my sight.”

Shiu groans, but stands to his feet. You feel bad, really, you know what an inconvenience you are but you do try your best to remain demure and out of the way. But he’s right, you’re needy. And to be honest you’re a little afraid. Since you’ve become Toji’s plaything you’ve got a target on your back. You know with all of the security and loyal men at his disposal the odds of anything happening to you are slim. But still, you know it isn’t impossible.

Toji’s second in command leads the meeting in the board room, and you are engaged and silent as he speaks. It’s something about a territory dispute. You don’t fully understand but you know it’s illegal and dangerous. And you begin to whimper as they discuss resorting to violence.

The sound catches Toji’s attention. It seems you’ve been paying more attention than he has. He’s got more money than sense, and that is why he keeps Shiu around. But he can read you like a book. He knows when you’re happy or sad, angry or scared. And now, he sees how hard you’re trying to hold in the fear you feel. He knows what always makes you feel better, though. And he’s bored out of his fucking skull.

He shows no care or consideration for his audience as he lifts you from your seat and into his lap. Shiu stutters a little as he watches Toji manhandle you, your legs spread apart over his own before he touches under your little miniskirt. He smirks, kissing your shoulder when he feels your naked flesh.

“Good girl, no panties, jus’ like I told you.”

He doesn’t see a point to you wearing panties, he told you that after your first encounter. He told you he’d be keeping you around and you were his perfect little girl. And perfect little girls don’t need panties.

“Perfect little girls just need to keep their cunts wet for their daddy’s.” that is what he told you.

Your face flushes with heat when you realise if anyone in the room is brave enough to look they’ll see your dripping little slit. You aren’t sure how brave Toji’s men really are, though. But Toji is bold and uncaring and he knows what he wants. Always.

You gasp, softly, stealing a few gazes from the men in the room. Shiu is busy trying to keep the meeting on track and keep everyone focused. And it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. He knows your pussy like the back of his hand, too. Because Toji loves to show you off. But he’ll never share. But his second in command knows better than most what your cute cunt is capable of. It’s a novelty to him, now. Why would he steal glances when he knows his generous boss will brag about you in private to him?

You fall forwards, little hands slamming against the table top as Toji rams his cock into you without remorse. He holds your hips, pulling you down until the back of your thighs smack against his. His fingers squeeze into your doughy skin, sure to leave bruises as he’s often one to do. Any fear that you’d felt at the thought of the men surrounding you committing acts of violence are a distant memory, now. You’re too busy trying to steady yourself through daddy’s onslaught.

“P-Please, fuck, please… daddy! S-Slow down!” you beg, a smirk sprawls like wildfire across his face as he listens to your desperate pleas.

“No no no, you don’t tell me what to do,” he reminds you. A light slap coming down on your clit as he continues fucking up into you. “Stop thinking, just take it, princess.”

Shiu sighs, his focus wavering as you continue to moan and yelp through Toji’s never ending fucking. He lights a cigarette for himself and then hands one to Toji. He takes a hand away from your hip to bring it to his lips, and Shiu proceeds to light his and then his own.

He continues to speak as if nothing is happening. He’s so calm and collected, but it’s no wonder. Toji is a man he’s known for as long as he can remember and he knows all of the complexities that come with him. Not to say that you are complex. You’re probably the best thing that’s ever happened to him, truthfully. But it isn’t as much of a distraction as it seems to be for the rest of his subordinates.

Toji chortles when he watches Shiu slot his thumb into your mouth, his other hand still holding his cigarette with no care to where the ash lands. The lackeys are even more confused, now, do they share you? Toji isn’t the type to share, no, but he isn’t going to chastise Shiu for doing what he needs to do to get through his meeting.

Besides, you look quite cute sucking on his thumb. He always thinks you look cute when you’re sucking on something, though. You hold onto Shiu’s wrist as you suckle on his thumb. And you hate that he won’t give you any attention, especially when you’re blinking up at him with pretty, wet eyes. Doesn’t he want to admire how cute you’re being for him?

You begin to act up, mewling loudly around his fingers as you try to get him to look at you. But it only ends in another wet slap on your pussy from Toji and a particularly rough cantering of his hips. He pulls you back towards him, your shoulder blades cushioned by his pecs as you’re pulled into him.

Shiu wipes your saliva from his thumb onto his blazer and gives you a passive glance before focusing on the men in the room again. He snaps his fingers in a bid to command their attention.

Toji, however, is fixated on you. His sharp canines ghost over your jugular. Your heart rate quickens and so do the shallow breaths escaping your throat. He silences you, his hand smothers your lips as he continues to nip and bite softly with ease. It’s exciting, and terrifying, because you know he could tear out your throat if he really wanted to.

“Did I just hear you beggin’ for another man’s attention, princess?” he whispers, his large palm pushing your legs further apart before repeatedly slapping down against your firm clit. “Is daddy’s cock ruinin’ you not enough, hah? Because I’ll stop, right now, and you can forget about cumming for a while. A long fucking while, darlin’.”

You muffle your protests through his smothering palm. Of course he’s enough! You got carried away, that’s all. He’s more than enough. You don’t need anyone else’s attention. Just him. Only him.

“Heh, that’s what I thought.” he laughs, harshly, licking a fat stripe up your neck with his wide tongue. Tears spill from your eyes as he continues to pound into you, gritting his teeth with each squeeze and stifled moan he’s suffocating with his hand. He wraps his free hand around your torso and drills upwards into your slippery heat.

Your moans become louder as you reach your peak. He repeatedly nudges your sensitive insides in the most beautiful way and forces you to clench and wince and fucking scream through your nostrils as he drags your orgasm out of you.

And eyes begin to turn white as they roll into the back of your head. Your body turns limp as his touch forces an orgasm from your body. Your body is wracked as you violently shake through it, your cunt squirting all over his lap and onto the floor below. He moans, boisterously at your display.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by the men in the room, either, as the sound of gushing water hits the ground below.

Toji bends you over the desk, carnal desire flooding all sense that he has. He pushes your head down so your cheek is squished against the table. You look up at Shiu, blinking pathetically. And now, you do have his attention. Toji hisses, flipping your skirt up to reveal your plump ass. He has no doubt his men will find it difficult not to look.

“Everyone out, now.” he commands, his men readily jump to their feet and begin to filter out of the room. Shiu stubs his cigarette out on the table top, not even an inch away from your nose and he prepares to leave. “Not you. Stay.” Toji orders. Shiu chuckles, weakly, and takes a seat.

“What do I owe this pleasure?” he asks, tucking your hair behind your ear as he watches your fucked out face continue to swallow Toji’s cock again and again. “Sorry I couldn’t give you any attention, angel. That meeting was a disaster, huh?” he smiles.

“This isn’t your pleasure, Shiu.” Toji informs him. “She jus’ likes it when you watch.”

© 2023 rinitxshi

#💌 — luxe mail #📨 — requests #toji x reader #toji x you #toji smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #anime smut #female reader #sub reader #jjk x fem!reader #tw age gap #tw possessiveness #tw jealousy #tw exhibitionism #tw daddy kink

[scuderiahoney]

Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri, roommates!au

Masterlist

Summary: You, Lando, and Oscar are roommates. The three of you promise to take care of each other. It takes you all far too long to admit just how much you mean it. featuring dj!Lando for cece :) based on a blurb I wrote for my 1k celebration so if the first bit feels familiar that’s why! 7.4k words

Warnings: alcohol, mentions of vomiting (non graphic), illness, a breakup, and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates)

Lando’s not expecting the phone call he gets from you. It’s late, too late, really, for him to even be awake, let alone for you to be calling. Oscar’s sitting on the couch next to him, gaming controller in hand, and when Lando swipes to answer the call, he mouths the words who is it? Lando mouths your name in reply, and Oscar’s half asleep flat expression turns into a look of concern. The three of you are roommates, but you’re gone for the night. Lando didn’t ask where you were going when you left.

“Hello?” He asks, waiting for your response.

There’s a sniffle, then a hiccupy gasp for air that has Lando sitting up straight in his seat. “Lan. Could you- fuck, m’sorry, just- d’you think you could pick me up?”

Lando stares widely at Oscar for a moment, heart clenching in his chest. You sound upset- more than upset, really. He stands up, already searching frantically for his keys.

“Yeah, love, of course,” he says as Oscar follows suit and stands up. “Should I bring Oscar?”

You sniffle again. “Yeah, please, just…”

“It’s okay. Send me your location, yeah? Take a deep breath, we’ll be there soon.”

You mumble something, and then you hang up on him. Lando shoves his phone in his pocket and looks up at Oscar, who’s holding the keys to his car. That works. Oscar heads for the door, while Lando makes a pit stop in the kitchen. When he meets his friend in the entryway, Oscar’s staring at him with confusion.

“She’s crying,” Lando says in explanation, holding a paper bag close to his chest.

They make it across town in record time. Oscar groans when they pull into the apartment complex you’d sent the location of.

“Isn’t this her boyfriend’s place?” He asks, brows furrowed.

Lando doesn’t get a chance to answer, because you step out of the front door, and they’re both distracted. Oscar swears under his breath, and Lando follows suit at the sight of you- you’re in a t-shirt and shorts. There’s snow on the ground. Oscar pulls his hoodie over his head just before you make it to the car door.

You climb into the backseat and collapse in on yourself. Both Lando and Oscar are turned towards you, and Lando’s sure their facial expressions are matching looks of concern. They both hand over their items without a word- Oscar’s hoodie, and Lando’s carton of ice cream and a spoon. You pull the hoodie over your head and open the ice cream.

“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” Oscar says, voice low.

Lando nods. “Yeah. We can just sit here together until you feel up to anything else.”

You nod and chew on your lower lip, and the light from the street lamp outside catches on the tear tracks on your cheeks. “He dumped me. Can we just go home?”

Lando reaches his hand back to squeeze yours. Your fingers are ice cold. “Of course,” he says softly.

As Oscar pulls away, he and Lando exchange a look of worry and anger. They’ve never liked your boyfriend, but they hate to see you hurting, too.

“Thanks,” you add, voice small in the backseat. You hold onto Lando’s hand tightly. “I knew I could count on you guys.”

Lando squeezes your hand again. You’re quiet most of the way back, and he lets it go. Oscar’s right to not push you to talk about it. That’ll come in its own time.

Oscar drives back to your shared apartment, pulling into a parking space in the garage. He gets out before Lando and slips around to the backseat, opening the door for you. The Aussie wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side.

When you all get upstairs, you collapse onto the couch. Lando follows suit, not wanting to leave your side. Oscar isn’t far behind. He grabs the remote and turns on the TV, something quiet that Lando doesn’t pay attention to. He just watches you for signs of distress. You stare at the tv blankly and chip away at the ice cream with your spoon, leaning on Oscar as Lando leans on you. Slowly, the three of you melt into the couch, none of you wanting to break the silence and suggest going to bed.

…..

Oscar wakes up on the couch at 3 in the morning, and when he looks around, this awful feeling hits him. It’s like someone’s reached into his chest and clawed his heart out. You’re laying there, your head on his stomach, one of your arms over his thigh. Lando’s laying nearly on top of you- together, the three of you are like a stack of toppled dominoes. There are blankets strewn over all of you. Oscar can vaguely remember Lando’s attempt to cover all three of you up as you all began to drift off.

You’re fast asleep, and when Oscar peers down at you he can still see the tear tracks on your cheeks. He’s never liked your boyfriend- ex boyfriend, now, thank god- but breakups are awful no matter what. He’s got half a mind to go over and confront the guy, because who leaves their girlfriend- ex girlfriend- to walk out of their apartment in the dead of winter in a t-shirt and shorts? Even if you had broken up, he seemingly hadn’t given you the chance to put on sweatpants and a hoodie. Or maybe you hadn’t wanted to stay long enough.

Lando shifts in his sleep, pressing closer to you. It’s only now that Oscar notices Lando’s hand linked with yours, fingers knitted together on your stomach. A pang of something flares up in him at the sight, at how right it feels to have you both right here like this. He does his best to tamp it down. He brushes his fingers against your cheek tentatively, relaxing just a bit at the feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips.

You nudge into the touch, eyelids just barely fluttering. Oscar wonders to himself how anyone could ever let you go. The sight of you in the backseat, teary eyed in his hoodie, is burned into the back of his brain. He’d do anything to keep you from ever crying again.

When he wakes up again, it’s much later in the morning. You and Lando are both gone, and something about that makes his heart clench. But he hears noise in the kitchen- Lando, talking to someone, the sound of food sizzling on the stove. He sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes before trudging his way over there.

Lando’s at the stove, cooking something that smells awfully delicious and makes Oscar’s stomach growl. You’re sitting on the counter nearby the way you always do, still in Oscar’s hoodie, hands folded in your lap. You’re the first one to spot him- you smile, but it’s subdued. There���s a tinge of sadness to it. Something aching behind your eyes.

“Morning,” he finally says.

Lando turns over his shoulder with a smile. “I was just about to send her to wake you,” he says. “I made breakfast.”

Oscar nods. “Thanks. Smells really good.”

He takes his normal spot on a stool at the kitchen island. He passes by both of you on the way there, and you reach out to squeeze his upper arm. He brushes a hand over your knee and smiles at you.

You’re quiet. Usually, you’d be chatting their ears off. But Lando plates up the food and distributes it without a word from you, and it has Oscar feeling sick to his stomach. You stay sitting on the counter, and you push the food around on your plate with one hand. Lando sits next to Oscar and exchanges a look with him.

Both boys clear their plates without a word from you. You’ve only taken a few bites. Oscar clears his throat as he clears his and Lando’s plates. Your eyes flicker up to meet his.

“I stand by what I said last night. We don’t have to talk,” he says. “But if you want to talk, we’re here.”

You shift and smile just a little. “Not much to talk about, really. The breakup has been coming for a long time, I think. So. It’s fine, really. Just weird, you know? We’d been dating for a year- that’s a year of my life… not wasted, but. Weird to lose someone like that so quickly.”

Both Oscar and Lando nod in understanding. You nod back. That’s that. If you don’t want to talk about it more, they won’t force you. It’s enough to know you’re safe at home, really.

…..

When Lando has his first DJ set after your break up, he begs you to come and watch. Much to his and Oscar’s surprise, you agree eagerly. They’d both thought it would be a harder fight. Lando’s been getting bigger and bigger DJ gigs- not enough to quit his day job yet, but enough to get excited about. You haven’t been to them recently, which had been a bit of a sore spot for Lando, though he’d tried not to let it on to you. So. If you want to go, he’s not going to question you on it.

On the way there, you size him up in the back of the Uber. You tug at the collar of his shirt.

“You’re too buttoned up,” you say, nose wrinkled.

Oscar laughs and nods. “Yeah, lose a button,” he adds.

He reaches over and undoes the top button of Lando’s shirt with nimble fingers, and great, now Lando’s sweating.

“Or two,” you chime in.

When you reach up and undo another button, Lando thinks the blush must be obvious on his cheeks now. It’s probably running down his neck, washing over his chest, just like the soft touch of your fingers against his skin.

“Why not three?” Oscar says, smirking.

Before he can undo the third one, Lando bats Oscar’s hand away and glares at him. Oscar’s had a shot before they left the apartment, pregaming because he hates crowds and loud places and social environments. He’s definitely a little tipsy, and because of that, he’s a bit more daring. It’s going to be the death of Lando.

By the time he’s halfway through the set, Lando’s gone and lost both of you in the crowd. He won’t lie, it makes him a bit nervous. He knows you were there one second, and then the next time he looked, you were both gone. He knows in his head Oscar won’t have let you out of his sight, but it doesn’t stop his heart from clenching. He thinks of his phone, down under the stage, itches to have it in his hand so he can text or call or find you, somehow.

When he finally climbs down and grabs his phone, it’s lit up with a bunch of notifications. He swipes past the ones from Max asking how late his set goes, past the ones from friends who stopped by, telling him how good he did. In the middle, there’s a text from Oscar.

Call when you’re done.

He calls. When Oscar answers, he gives him directions to meet the two of you in a bathroom and then promptly hangs up. Lando would be more concerned with the two of you apparently hiding out together in a bathroom if Oscar hadn’t told him about it. He doesn’t have the energy to let himself get jealous. He just heads towards the two of you. He knocks on the single bathroom door, calls out to Oscar, and it swings open.

“She had a little too much,” Oscar says.

Behind him, you’re kneeling next to the toilet, Oscar’s jacket underneath your knees. It’s such a sweet touch that it makes Lando’s heart ache- there’s just something about seeing Oscar taking care of you. But he does his best to focus and steps into the bathroom. Your hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail. Your skin is pale, and when you turn to look at Lando, your eyes are bloodshot. He hisses and turns to Oscar.

“I know, I know, I said I’d watch her-“ Oscar says, raising his hands defensively. “She’s good at pretending to be sober. Until she’s way too far gone, and then…”

“Lan!” you call out, high pitched and wobbly. “I love you.”

Lando widens his eyes at Oscar, who nods.

“There’s been a lot of that. About both of us. She was not happy when I pulled her out of sight of you.” Oscar sighs. “I can’t figure out if it’s just- you know, she loves her friends, or-“

Oscar trails off. Lando furrows his brows.

“Lan,” you repeat again, and he turns over his shoulder to look at you, then tries not to visibly wince. “Can we go home now?”

“Yeah, love,” he says, softly. “You done throwing up, you okay to move?”

You shrug, then nod. Great. Not super convincing. When he turns to Oscar, he winces. Lando drags a hand down his own face. Interrogating Oscar will have to wait- the first priority is to get the three of you out of there, hopefully without you throwing up on them. He sighs heavily and makes a plan in his head.

Lando’s not sure what god he pleased, what good karma he’s earned, but the three of you make it outside without you throwing up again. He breathes a sigh of relief. Then he and Oscar spend 5 minutes debating on whether walking or getting a ride would be better- you’re drunk and wobbly, but at least if you threw up, it’d be on the sidewalk. Oscar hates that idea, is worried about you tripping and falling on the way, about how they’ll manage to get you all the way back. You stand there and watch them argue, Oscar’s hand on your shoulder to keep you from falling over.

“Boys, stop fighting,” you say hazily. “You’re both so pretty.”

Lando’s eyes go wide at that. He stares at Oscar, who seems to make a face that says I know. Lando turns to you. You’re smiling widely up at him, blinking glassy eyes and tilting your head. You reach out and tap your fingertip against his nose, then laugh. Lando swallows tightly.

Oscar uses his distraction to flag down a cab. Lando can’t find the energy to argue anymore. They’d normally put you in the middle, but this time they sit you next to the door, just in case you do need to throw up. You spend the entire ride with your head on Lando’s shoulder, and he can tell you’re starting to get drowsy just from the way you sag against him. When they climb out of the car, Oscar puts one of your arms over his shoulder, and Lando does the same on the other side.

By the time they get you up to the apartment and into the bathroom, you’re half asleep, leaning heavily on both of them. When your hand slips against the bare skin of his chest, he swallows tightly. Oscar puts toothpaste on the toothbrush for you, and Lando helps you brush your teeth, his hand wrapped around yours gently.

Then they head for your bedroom. Lando grabs you a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from your dresser. He sets them on the bed and gets ready to leave the room so you can change, and then slaps his hand over his eyes when you start to take off your dress before he even gets the chance. He hears Oscar’s hand hit his own face, too.

“We live together,” you say, and Lando can practically hear your eye roll. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Lando sighs. “It is, and you’re drunk, so.”

You laugh. “I guess. I’m dressed now.”

Lando groans when he uncovers his eyes and spots the pair of shorts still on the bed. He puts one hand over Oscar’s eyes, one back over his own, and says, “Shorts. Now.”

You grumble something about taking them off later anyways, which has Lando melting into a puddle over the thought. He hears you shuffling around, and then you grab both of his wrists and tug them away from his and Oscar’s faces. You’re fully dressed this time, and you collapse backwards onto the bed.

“Will you guys stay till I fall asleep?” you ask, softly.

Both of them nod and sit down on the edge of the bed. You curl up in the middle, each of them on either side. Oscar lays a tentative hand on your shoulder, while Lando brushes hair from your face. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, melting into the bed.

When you do, Lando nods silently towards the door. Oscar nods in agreement, and they both slip out of the bedroom. Lando looks back to check on you as he shuts the door. You look peaceful, finally.

Oscar heads for the kitchen, and Lando follows. He reaches into the fridge and comes back with two cans of sparkling water, which Lando accepts eagerly. He’d been unaware of just how thirsty he was until that moment. He drinks half the can in one go and then looks at Oscar expectantly.

“I don’t know,” Oscar prefaces. “I’m not sure about anything. But. She couldn’t stop staring at you up on the stage, and she told me about ten times how pretty you were. And then she said it about me, too. To my face. And like, right after that she threw up, but.”

“But,” Lando repeats. “You saw something. Different than her just being a drunk mess.”

“It felt different,” Oscar says, softly. “Just. I can’t explain it.”

Lando nods. He presses his lips into a thin line. Oscar follows suit, rubbing his hand against the smooth surface of the countertop.

“What do we do?” Lando asks quietly. He feels wildly out of his depth here. “I mean. D’you think she has feelings for…”

Me? You? Lando’s not sure what to say. He’s not sure what he wants the answer to be either. Suddenly, he feels sick to his stomach. In an ideal world, he knows what he’d like to happen here, but that’s a pipe dream. Unrealistic.

“She’s really vulnerable,” he says, before Oscar can even answer. “And like. That would really make a good roommate situation weird, right?”

Oscar laughs, but it sounds forced. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” Lando says. “Okay. So. We just let it go.”

Oscar nods. There’s something in the look on his face that makes Lando think maybe there’s more to this. That they shouldn’t brush it off so easily. But it’s late, and he’s exhausted, and this topic feels so, so difficult to broach right now. So he claps Oscar on the shoulder with an open palm, and then disappears into his bedroom.

Lando’s avoidance of the subject doesn’t last long, because the next morning, before you wake up, Oscar corners him in the kitchen.

“We need to talk,” Oscar says, which is never a good sentence to hear at any hour, let alone before the sun has even risen.

Realistically, he should’ve known this was coming, because Oscar never willingly wakes up this early on a weekend. It’s still dark outside. Lando can barely make out Oscar’s facial expressions in the dim light. He flicks a light switch and watches the other man wince.

“Rude,” Oscar grumbles.

“Yeah, that’s what you get for starting off my morning with that sentence,” Lando defends. When Oscar frowns, he softens. “What’s up?”

As if he hadn’t expected to actually get to this point, Oscar shrinks in on himself. Lando leans against the counter and tilts his head. Oscar’s younger, but he’s usually the more mature one. It’s odd to see him so lost for what to say.

“Last night,” Oscar starts, chewing on his lip when he pauses. “She- I- I can’t stop thinking about…”

Lando’s gut wobbles. “About her. You like her. And you think she feels the same.”

There’s this weird jealousy in his chest. He’s jealous of both of you, he realizes, and he grips the counter behind him with his hand. He wants to be the one you like, and he wants to be the one Oscar’s into, too. He’s known it for a while, really, but this is the first time he’s had to confront it head on. And it’s - it’s a problem, probably. His best friends and his roommates. He can’t have both. Can’t have it all.

Oscar frowns and shakes his head. “No. Well. Yeah, but- it’s more than that. It’s.”

Lando tamps down the ache in his chest, plasters on a smile. “Oscar. It’s okay.”

“No,” Oscar says, dragging out the sound. “You don’t- you don’t get it.”

“You guys would make a cute couple,” Lando says quietly. “Like. Really, Osc, you’d be good together-“

“I don’t just want her,” Oscar interrupts, and Lando's heart skips a beat. “I don’t- fuck, it sounds crazy, but. I woke up that morning, after we picked her up, and you were both on the couch with me, and I just thought, yeah, this is how I want to wake up every day. And if that’s crazy then- forget I said anything, but-“

Lando clears his throat. “It’s not crazy.”

Oscar freezes, one hand halfway through his hair. “It’s not?”

Lando shakes his head and bites his lip. “No. I think I’ve been feeling the same. Just… I felt crazy, you know?”

Oscar nods. Lando can’t stop staring at him, at the red flush on his cheeks, the wide eyes. He reaches his foot out and nudges it against Oscar’s shin.

“I meant what I said last night, about her being vulnerable,” he says, and Oscar sighs heavily. “She needs friends right now. And she doesn’t need friends who are caught up in figuring out their feelings for each other and maybe her, too.”

Oscar huffs. “So we just…”

“Wait and see?” Lando asks sheepishly. “Feels shitty, I know, but our first priority is making sure she’s okay.”

Oscar nods. Lando nods back. And that’s that, for a while. And maybe for a while, it’s enough to know that Oscar feels it, too. To know he’s not alone.

…..

You know Lando well enough to know he’s not one to admit when he’s sick. You’d think he’d be the exact opposite, but he tends to try and tough it out until the very last minute. He hides it well, except when it comes to you and Oscar.

He’s getting ready for a DJ set nearly a month after the one where you’d gotten far too drunk. There’s loud music playing through the apartment as he eats dinner, dancing along to the beat. You sit on the kitchen counter in your usual spot, and Oscar stands next to you. You’re both watching Lando bounce around the room. He’s trying to convince you he’s fine without actually saying it. It’s not working.

He leaves the room for a moment, looking for his phone. Oscar looks up at you.

“He’s sick, isn’t he?” He asks.

You nod and worry your bottom lip between your teeth. “Definitely.”

But Lando says nothing about not feeling well, so you do your hair and makeup and get into an Uber with him and Oscar to head for a club. You and Oscar exchange a glance when Lando presses his forehead to the window of the car. He’s mumbling along to the song that’s playing over the speakers. There’s sweat on his temple. You’re starting to worry.

He tumbles out of the car and into the club with you and Oscar in tow. Once the bright lights and loud music hit him, he perks up a bit. If you know him, you know it won’t last. He’s going to wear himself out during his set and then fall apart right after. He sends the two of you to the bar, tells you to put it on his tab. Oscar loops his hand in your arm to keep you close- you’re not complaining. Without saying anything to each other, you each order plain Cokes. Lando won’t question if there’s alcohol in it. You order him his go to drink- a gin & tonic, but ask the bartender to go light on the gin. You hand it off to him before he heads up for his set, and when he hesitates to kiss your cheek like he normally would, you eye him carefully.

“I’m fine,” he says, which tells you more than anything that he’s definitely not fine.

Next to you, Oscar scoffs. You press the back of your hand to Lando’s forehead and sigh. He leans into the touch, eyes fluttering shut. He’s burning up.

“It’s a short set,” he says, slurred but loud enough to be heard over the thud of the bass. “I’ll be fine.”

You watch as he walks away. Oscar takes your arm in his hand again, pulls you away to a nearby booth. Normally, you love watching Lando’s sets, love listening to the music he’s chosen, and watching his face light up at the crowd’s reaction. But now, as he takes his place, you just feel worried. You can tell Oscar’s worried too, just from the way he drums his fingers against the table in an unsteady pattern. Normally the two of you would find yourselves out on the dance floor, especially when Lando plays the songs he knows you both love, but you can’t find it in you tonight.

When he stumbles off stage from his set, he’s grinning ear to ear, but his eyes are half closed and there’s a thin sheen of sweat on his skin that you know isn’t from the dj-ing. You and Oscar stand to meet him, and you brush damp curls from his forehead to check his temperature again. He feels even worse. Oscar winces as Lando sways in front of the two of you.

“Let's get you home,” you suggest, and he just nods.

When you get back to the apartment, you deposit Lando on the couch. Oscar stays with him, pulling a blanket over Lando and propping him up with pillows. You head for the bathroom first and open the medicine cabinet.

“Lan, what’s wrong?” You call out.

You hear his disoriented grumbling. Oscar translates. “He says he’s fine.”

You lean out into the living room and fix Lando with a glare. “Shut up. You need medicine. What’s wrong?”

He sighs and sinks into the couch. “Sore throat. Headache. Little bit of a cough.”

You nod and return to the surprisingly well stocked medicine cabinet. You grab the cold medicine that describes his symptoms the best and head back to the living room. Lando has the blanket wrapped tightly around him like a cocoon, and he has his head resting on Oscar’s shoulder. Oscar’s running his hand up and down Lando’s upper arm, a look of concern on his face.

You hand Oscar the medicine. “Here. Give him a dose, will you? I’m gonna heat up some soup or something.”

“M’not a baby,” Lando mutters.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Oscar teases gently.

Though the medicine cabinet was well stocked, the kitchen is less so. None of you like grocery shopping. You manage to find a can of chicken soup in the back of a cupboard, and it’s not expired, so you heat it up quickly. You return to the living room with the soup and a large glass of water.

Lando is fully tucked into Oscar’s side now, draped messily across the other boy. You sigh at the sight, at the way Oscar runs his hand through Lando’s hair, at the content little smile on Lando’s lips. Even when he’s sick, this is enough to bring him comfort. You wonder, then, if you could be enough, too. The memories pass through your brain- the way they’ve both taken care of you after your break up. Now it’s your chance to return the favor.

You sit down on the couch on Lando’s other side. Oscar takes the bowl of soup from you carefully, and then you hold the glass of water up to Lando’s lips. He sips carefully, then pulls away with a soft sigh. His cheeks are rosy red, and he shivers. You and Oscar both wince in sympathy.

“You should’ve told us,” Oscar says, quietly. “Should’ve canceled the set.”

Lando shrugs and elbows him lightly. “Got through it, didn’t I? Can’t go around canceling sets if I’m gonna make it big, can I?”

You roll your eyes and nudge the Brit slightly. “Your health is more important than you making it big,” you chide.

He turns to look at you, gaze hazy but still amused. “Mm. You won’t be saying that when I’ve got enough money to take care of the two of you for the rest of your lives.”

“Is that your plan?” Oscar asks, a teasing tone in his voice.

Lando closes his eyes and nods. “You two can be my sugar babies,” he asserts. “Never work another day in your life.”

“Okay, Norris,” you say, biting back a laugh. “Eat your soup.”

He does as he’s told, melting back into the couch as he holds the bowl and spoon in shaky hands. Oscar keeps his hands on the bowl, too, just to be safe. To show your support, you lean against Lando’s shoulder to help prop him up. As much as you hate to see him not feeling well, you think that maybe you could get used to this.

You tuck him into his bed later that night. Oscar’s next to you, having carried him into the bedroom from the living room. Lando was pretty much dead weight, high on cold medicine and his fever and so, so out of it. You pull the covers up to his chin and smooth sweaty hair from his forehead. You cringe at the clammy feeling, and Oscar laughs.

Lando blinks up at both of you with heavy eyes. “Meant it, you know.”

“Meant what?” You ask.

He lets his eyelids fall closed. “Gonna take care of you two. The same way you take care of me. I think abou’ it all the time.”

He yawns, turns his head, and falls asleep nearly immediately after that, lips barely parted, chest rising and falling smoothly. You feel frozen for a moment. He looks so peaceful. He wants to take care of you. Your heart is pounding.

Oscar wraps his hand around your elbow and squeezes softly. “He’ll be okay.”

He thinks you’re worried. You don’t know how to tell him that Lando being sick isn’t the problem. The what’s got you all mixed up inside is the way Lando says it so easily. Never work another day in your life. I think about it all the time.

You swallow and back away from the bed, because you have the strongest urge to crawl right in next to him and drag Oscar right with you, until you’re all curled up in a pile together. You can’t do that. Oscar leads you out to the living room. You think he knows something’s up, because he doesn’t let go of you the whole time, but he doesn’t say anything either. You need to shake this feeling. You can’t think about them like this. It won’t end well.

“I’ll make us some popcorn, yeah?” Oscar suggests. “We can watch Bake Off.”

You nod as you make your way over to the couch. You try to tell yourself you should keep your distance, should sit far away from him. But when he sits down and pulls you into his chest, you can’t help but sigh happily.

“When we inevitably catch whatever he has,” you say, “we’re gonna need more chicken noodle soup.”

…..

Oscar comes home from work one day a few weeks later, and finds the two of you in the living room- a pretty normal occurrence lately. You’re laid out on the couch, your ankles in Lando’s lap. You smile up at him happily, and he laughs. He’s glad to see you, honestly, both of you. He’s had a rough day. This is exactly what he needed to come home to.

“Comfy?” He asks.

You nod eagerly. “We saved some pizza for you. It’s in the kitchen.”

He snorts. “Gee. Thanks. Couldn’t wait till I got home?”

You pout up at him. “I was hungry.”

Lando nods in agreement. “She was being whiny, Osc, had to feed her.”

“I’m gonna shower,” he says, leaning over to ruffle your hair. You press into the touch, like a cat. “And then I’ll have dinner.”

“Ooh, take a shower beer,” you suggest.

Lando laughs. “I was gonna say the exact same thing.”

Without even thinking, Oscar leans over the couch and kisses both of your foreheads. “Geniuses, the both of you.”

Neither you or Lando seem to question it, or the blush on his cheeks, so he doesn’t even try to explain.

By the time he finishes showering, and finishes his shower beer, a bit of the stress has melted away. He sighs heavily when he steps out, towel dries his hair, and pulls on a pair of shorts and a hoodie. He eats a slice of pizza, cold, in the kitchen.

When he makes it back to the living room, you’re curled up in Lando’s arms, halfway in his lap. He grumbles, not even realizing he’s making the noise until you look up at him. You throw one arm out wide, beckoning him close. Lando looks up with a happy, soft smile and pats the open space on his chest. And really, Oscar’s had a shit day, and the spot between Lando’s jaw and chest looks quite cozy, and if he’s being invited, then-

He collapses into the two of you, slips his arm around you and presses the side of his face to Lando’s chest. Oscar takes a deep breath, smells Lando’s cologne and your perfume, the intoxicating mix of both of you, and closes his eyes. He feels someone’s finger drag down the slope of his nose, and another hand brushes his hair from his forehead.

“Bad day?” You ask.

He’s exhausted, and everything is a bit hazy feeling. Syrupy and slow. He could fall asleep like this, probably. You sound a million miles away, and also like you’re tucked away in his chest, like he’d like for you to always be. Close and protected.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Really bad day.”

A thumb brushes over his cheek. There’s a hand in his damp hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. He lets out a fluttering sigh.

“Poor baby,” you say. He thinks the hand on his face is yours, the hand in his hair, Lando’s. “We just gotta wait for Lan to make it big, yeah? ‘nd then me and you can be his sugar babies, let him pay for everything. Just like he promised.”

Oscar laughs and rubs his cheek against Lando’s chest in some sort of nod. He can feel Lando laughing, too, high pitched and breathless. His hand squeezes at your hip, where it landed when he sat down.

“I’d take such good care of the two of you,” Lando says, quietly.

Oscar knows how much truth the words hold, and suddenly his stomach aches with want. Because Lando already takes care of both of you and him any way he can, and Oscar does it for you and Lando, too, and they both wish they could do it even more so. Could kiss away your tears, could hold your hand when you cross the street. He wants it. So does Lando.

“You already do,” you say, even quieter.

Oscar feels Lando’s breath hitch in his chest. He opens one eye and finds your eyes closed, your hand pressed to his cheek. Lando’s hand, banded around Oscar’s back, squeezes softly. Oscar holds his breath.

You shrug, like you know they’re watching without even opening your eyes.

“You both do,” you add. “Picked me up when I called, checked on me ever since…” you sigh and bury your face deeper into Lando’s chest. Oscar reaches up and cups your cheek in his hand tentatively. “Couldn’t ask for more.”

Even on the worst of days, Oscar thinks that maybe you’re right. He couldn’t ask for more. He’s got everything right here.

…..

A few nights later, Lando wakes up to the creak of the door, and his eyes fly open. He turns to look and finds you standing in the doorway, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“Love?” Lando asks, quietly. It’s the dead of night. “You alright?”

You shrug and sigh. “Can we cuddle?”

He blinks and nods, wonder fleetingly if he should go and get Oscar, because this feels unfair, but- then you step backwards, walking away. You must want to go to your bed, must feel more comfortable there. Lando slips out of his bed, takes his phone with him, and follows after you. His confusion grows when you don’t stop at the door to your bedroom. You walk right past and head for Oscar’s room. You open the door, and Lando looks past you to the warm glow of the lamp Oscar always forgets to turn off, to his sleeping form.

“You’re easier to wake up,” you say, softly.

Lando blinks wildly as you trudge your way over to the bed. “Love?”

“Want cuddles,” you state as you climb into the bed next to Oscar, who’s snoring softly. “From both of you. Come on.”

And, well. You should probably all talk about this, really. But you’re already tucking yourself under the blankets, and Oscar looks cute, and Lando’s so, so tired, and he wants cuddles, too, so. He sighs and makes his way over to the bed. You grin and roll towards Oscar, who finally shifts awake at the motion.

“Hi?” He says, confused, sleep coating his voice.

You don’t bother to explain, just slip an arm around him and curl close. Lando sits down on the edge of the bed and makes eye contact with Oscar, who seems frozen between confusion and happiness.

“She wanted cuddles,” Lando explains. “From both of us. I’m easier to wake up, apparently.”

Oscar shrugs and nods. He rolls towards you and throws his arm over your middle. His fingers motion towards Lando, who breathes a sigh of relief. Sure, they’ve talked, but there was always a chance Oscar changed his mind, or that this would be weird. But, if he’s offering…

Lando crawls into bed next to you. You let out a soft sigh when he lays down next to you, and he can’t fight the smile that crosses his lips. He slips his arm around you, his skin brushing against Oscar’s, too. Oscar presses a kiss to your forehead. Lando bites back a flare of jealousy, and he’s not even sure which one of you he’s jealous of. Then Oscar brushes his fingertips against his bicep, a soft, gentle touch that reminds him he’s part of this, too. Lando kisses the back of your neck and closes his eyes, already sleepy again.

…..

When Oscar wakes up the next morning, you and Lando are still in his bed. He breathes a sigh of relief at that, having been worried one of you would wake up and panic and leave. He watches the two of you for a few moments before he lets his eyes slip closed again. The weight of your head on his chest is comforting, and the soft rise and fall of Lando’s ribs under his hand is even more so. It’s rare that he’s awake before either of you unless he has to be up early.

He opens one eye again, just to look, just to take it in. Lando’s head is pressed against your shoulder, the top of his forehead and his mass of curly hair just visible to Oscar. He could get used to this. He’d like to wake up like this all the time, the three of you all wrapped up together. And maybe that’s wishful thinking, but for at least one morning, he gets to have it.

If he wasn’t so worried he’d wake you up and spoil the moment, he’d trace the lines of your face with his fingertips and draw patterns on your shoulders. He’d do it to Lando, too- shove his tank top up until he could touch the bare skin of his ribs, run his fingers over the bumps. But he wants this to last as long as possible, so he just lays there and stares.

Eventually, you start to stir, and with you, so does Lando. It’s strange, the way it makes Oscar’s heart clench in his chest. He wants so badly for both of you to just stay right here, with him. If he could hold you both in his arms like this forever he would.

When you open your eyes, you smile softly at him. Lando shifts behind you and opens one eye, and the same soft smile slips across his lips. You press yourself farther into Oscar, and reach a hand behind you to pull Lando close.

“My boys,” you say, quietly. “My favorite boys.”

And. That’s when it hits Oscar, like a punch to the chest. There’s something in the way you say it, something about the look on your face. He just knows. He knows because he sees it in himself, in Lando. He doesn’t need to talk about it right this second, doesn’t need to ask. He just knows you feel it too. So he leans up and over, hears the way Lando’s holding his breath. He moves his hand and presses his lips to your cheek, to your warm, soft skin. Then he does the same to Lando. You smile even wider. Lando, not one to be left out, does the same to you, then Oscar, leaving his skin burning. You follow suit, and your lips are warm against Oscar’s jaw. He thinks maybe he’s in heaven.

The three of you fall back asleep in a tighter pile, wrapped up in each other’s limbs. There’ll be time to talk later. For now, it’s enough to just know.

…..

A month later, you’re in the front of the crowd at Lando’s DJ set, watching with wide, bright eyes. He has three buttons undone, the work of you and Oscar during the car ride over to the club. He’s grinning down at you as someone hands him a shot, and then he tosses it back with a grimace. You wonder if he sees the stars in your eyes as you look up at him.

Oscar’s behind you, one arm wrapped around your waist. He has a drink in his other hand- your drink, taken from your own grip when you started moving your hands to the music. His nose is pressed behind your ear, and when he speaks, his breath tickles against your skin and makes you shiver.

“Y’know, he said he’d take care of us,” Oscar says, loud enough to be heard over the music, but just barely. “But all I can think of right now are all the ways I wanna take care of him.”

You laugh, leaning your head back against his shoulder. “It’s the unbuttoned shirt,” you tell him, gesturing at your other boyfriend. “S’like kryptonite.”

Never mind the fact that the shirt’s only unbuttoned because of the two of you. Oscar laughs and squeezes his arm around your middle. Lando tilts his head at the two of you, like he knows exactly what you’re up to.

“Yeah,” Oscar agrees. “But that’s less buttons for us to deal with later.”

You nod in agreement. “Good point.”

When Lando’s shirt is laying on the floor later, next to Oscar’s shirt and your dress, and you’re all slumped together on the bed in a pile, you remember what Oscar said earlier and laugh. Neither of them bother to ask what you’re laughing about. They just kiss your cheeks and join in with laughter of their own.

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @ggaslyp1 (if your blog is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!)

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #Oscar Piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #Lando Norris x oscar Piastri x reader #Oscar Piastri x Lando Norris x reader #Lando Norris fluff #Oscar Piastri fluff #Lando Norris fuc #Oscar Piastri fic #Lando Norris oneshot #Oscar Piastri oneshot #landoscar x reader #formula 1 fic #formula 1 oneshot #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 oneshot #f1 x reader #formula one fanfic #formula one fluff #formula one x reader #formula one oneshot #poly!landoscar x reader #honeywrites #ln4 #op81 #x reader

[lightseoul]

endearment

synopsis. first, second, and third instances; it's official, there's something going on with bakugou and you're determined to find out.

cw. fem!reader, pro hero!katsuki, aged-up (26 yrs old), established relationship, a lot of cursing

word count. 1.9k words

The first time it happens, you don’t think too much about it.

“Bakugou,” you call out from where you’re snuggled on his corduroy sofa. “Can you pass me some tissue?”

From the bathroom, you could hear a faint ‘tch’.

The sound of house slippers colliding with the tiled floor grows louder and louder until he finally emerges with a roll in his hand, which he promptly tosses to you.

You catch it—barely—and grin when you feel the thickness of the 3-ply roll, no doubt a staple in Bakugou Katsuki’s pristine apartment unit.

Go figure.

He’s circling the coffee table and plopping down next to you when your phone rings.

Confused, you pick up your phone to see a picture of you and Kirishima from your last get-together—his caller ID. Curious, Bakugou peers over your shoulder, frowning upon seeing his other best friend’s name.

“Isn’t he on patrol right now with Midoriya?” you ask.

Bakugou shrugs. “Answer it.”

Humming an okay, you click the accept button.

“Hey, Y/N! Is Bakubro with you right now?

You eye Bakugou, who’s pretending to be disinterested and not at all eavesdropping. “Yeah. What’s up?”

Kirishima laughs, “Can you tell him to check our group chat? Limited edition All Might merch just dropped.”

At that, you chuckle. “Got this Ei. He’s actually just beside me right now. I’ll make sure to tell him. And tell Izuku I said hi.”

You can practically hear the smile on his face when he says: “Thanks, bro! You’re the best.”

With that, you press the end call button and turn slightly to regard Bakugou, who’s now staring at his hands on his knees, what looks like a scowl etched on his face.

You poke at his side, trying to be playful.

“Aren’t you curious about what he had to say?”

He shakes his head before standing up and heading—again—to the bathroom.

Huh.

The second time it happens, it leaves you and your friends bewildered.

“And so that’s how yesterday’s patrol ended up with me getting a special interview with TBS,” Mina says proudly.

You chuckle, amused. “That’s amazing, Mina.”

From where she’s seated beside you in the booth of your favorite bar, she grins. “Yeah, well I try!”

Kirishima, who’s sitting opposite the both of you, chimes in. “You have to tell Bakubro that story.”

“Where is he, anyway?” Mina asks.

You squint, looking through the glass windows of the bar. “I think he’s still searching for a parking space.”

At that, Mina cocks her head to the side in confusion. “But it’s been a while since you guys arrived?”

“Yeah…”

You pick up your phone, thumbing through the contacts until you arrive at the one marked with the red asterisk.

Emergency contact.

You’re in the middle of quickly typing out a where r u when Mina, the ever meddling Mina, peers over your shoulder unbeknownst to you.

“You named his contact…Bakugou?”

Attention divided between texting and talking with your friends, you retort lamely with: “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” Kirishima pipes up. “It’s just that couples usually save each other’s contacts as sweet pet names.”

Mina nods in agreement. “For example, I have Ei saved as baby, with a red heart.”

Before you can even defend yourself, let alone playfully gag at the nickname Mina has given Kirishima, Bakugou appears at your table, sitting down at the booth next to Kirishima and in front of you, uncharacteristically quiet.

When you lock eyes, you raise your eyebrows ever so slightly— denoting a question: everything okay?—but he doesn’t sustain eye contact.

Instead, he stands up again quite abruptly.

“Restroom,” he explains curtly, stuffing his hands in his pockets before walking away, leaving the three of you speechless.

The third time it happens, it happens in his childhood home.

You didn’t expect to meet his parents this early on in the relationship; you haven’t even been together for a year. Yet Bakugou was determined to introduce you to them, said something about his sharp intuition telling him something or whatever.

Which is how you now find yourself in the living room of the place where he grew up, poring over photo albums like how dehydrated animals in hot climates pore over water.

With his mother, of all people.

“And this is him when his quirk first manifested,” Mitsuki explains, speeding through the pages of the album whilst grinning. You can’t help but grin back.

She points to a rather old photograph on the last page. “And this one is him playing baseball in 8th grade.”

Intrigued, you move closer to see the picture, smiling when you spot him, crimson eyes and ash blonde locks sticking out like a rose amidst the thorny bushes—impossible to miss.

Wanting to fill the air, you offer: “Bakugou was a very cute kid, Mitsuki-san.”

In a flash, she looks up at you, a puzzled look decorating her beautiful features, instead of the look of gratitude you were aiming for.

When you look back at her with confused eyes yourself, she asks, “You still call each other by your last name?”

“Oh—I—uh…”

You eye Bakugou who’s in the kitchen, chopping fresh vegetables for the salad, as per his mother’s instructions.

You convince yourself that he’s got to be out of earshot.

Stumbling over your words again, you scramble for purchase. “Well—”

To your relief, Mitsuki only laughs good-naturedly in response, cutting you off.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I know my Katsuki can be a bit intimidating sometimes, but inside he’s a real softie who appreciates the little things.”

You could simply nod in response.

From the kitchen, Bakugou announces: “I’m going to the restroom. Start eating without me.”

A fourth time does not end up happening.

Instead, you find yourself riding the elevator to the rooftop of Bakugou’s apartment complex, where he’s already waiting for you.

‘I’ll just go ahead’ is what he said after both of you finished cleaning the dishes from dinner. ‘Make sure to catch up’.

Before you know it, the elevator doors slide open and you step out, suddenly becoming acutely aware of the heavy feeling now sitting in your stomach.

Will you finally figure out why Bakugou’s been acting a bit off lately?

You immediately spot him, back turned against you, and arms folded across his chest, resting on top of the railing.

Slowly, you walk towards him, ultimately situating yourself to his right.

A tense—albeit not uncomfortable—silence falls upon you.

Neither of you says anything until you pipe up with: “Is there bad news?”

At that, he finally turns his head to look at you. “Hah?”

You school your expression into a pensive one. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“What?” he exclaims, his entire body now facing you in a frantic hurry. “No!”

You chuckle. “Then what’s with the bad news face?”

“Bad news face?”

Nodding, you continue. “The face you make when you hear or are about to deliver bad news. It’s the more solemn iteration of your scowl.”

“What—” he scoffs, although he sounds pleased, “—You’ve fucken memorized my expressions?”

You shrug sheepishly.

When he doesn’t say anything in return, you prod further. “How bad is it?”

He huffs, breaking eye contact. “No bad news. Just—it’s…shit, never mind.”

“It’s just me,” you remind him. “It’s okay.”

With your reassurance, you can see his body relaxing a little bit, though he still refuses to say anything.

A few more seconds of tense silence pass before Bakugou finally looks you straight in the eye.

“Why the fuck do you call me Bakugou?

You stare at him. “...because it’s your name?”

Whatever he wanted to hear from you, it sure wasn’t that.

He scoffs. “Yeah? Well, why do you call shitty hair Ei or shitty deku Izuku? Have I failed some fucking test to qualify for first name privileges?”

“What are you talking about?”

This is what made him act weirdly the past week?

“Don’t make me say it again, woman,” he spits, although there’s not much venom coating his words.

“God,” he combs through his hair in frustration, “this is fucking humiliating.”

“I call you Bakugou because that’s what I called you back when we were just friends,” you try to reason. “Also, I…I didn’t want to start calling you Katsuki out of nowhere.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to,” you finish, voice small.

“Who said I wanted you to call me that?”

 You shoot him a knowing look.

You stare at each other for a few more seconds before he groans in defeat, turning to face the city skyline instead of you. You follow suit, opting to look up at the stars that seem to be twinkling extra tonight.

Moments pass with neither of you saying anything.

You gently bump his shoulder with yours.

“For what it’s worth,” you start, “I don’t think there’s anything to be embarrassed about.”

He only grunts in response. You press on.

“The fact that you just told me all this…I don’t know. It makes me happy. It’s sort of like saying you care enough about our relationship to communicate even the most ‘humiliating’—your words not mine—of concerns.

“Of course I fucking do, dumbass,” he retorts. “Wouldn’t have confessed to you if I was just gonna chicken out at some point like a loser.”

You smile at him and his words, and you hope your adoration translates to your face, because the thing with Bakugou is that sometimes you have to deliver the message without having to utter the words—all to preserve the moment before it’s adulterated by shame.

“Right,” you look at him, “why don’t you call me by my first name?”

“Figured I haven’t earned it yet,” he says bluntly.

Amused, you push forward. “And how were you planning to earn it?”

He shoots you a glare. “By being the best fucking boyfriend, that’s how.”

At that, you cannot help the delighted laughter that erupts from you.

He side-eyes you, annoyed, though a smile manages to crack through the facade.

“Stop laughing at me.”

And when you don’t: “Hey.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you exclaim, trying to catch your breath. “I’m just happy.”

He studies you for a beat, eyes fluttering across your face as if he’s searching for something. You feel yourself grow warmer under his piercing gaze.

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally says: “Call me Katsuki.”

You grin, “Okay, Katsuki.”

At your mention of his name, the scowl plastered on his face eases a little into a neutral—borderline happy—expression.

“And I’ll call you by your first name…” he declares, “if you’re fine with it or if not, just forget I said that.”

You take his hand and squeeze it before he can ramble some more.

“Sounds good to me, Katsuki.”

bonus:

“I swear,” you argue while putting on your shoes, “I can ride the subway, Katsuki.”

“At this hour?” he snorts.

“Best fucking boyfriend, remember?” he sneers as he obtains his car keys by the doorway. “Just let me do this for you.”

You relent, knowing better than to fight with Katsuki on the matter of your safety, when suddenly a brilliant idea dawns on you.

Straightening up, you say: “I don’t think I saw you drinking water after dinner, Katsuki.”

“What?”

“Go hydrate yourself,” you command.

At that, he grumbles but submits to you anyway, walking back to his tidy kitchen.

Once you see that he’s in the middle of chugging down a bottle, you call: “Katsuki?”

He grunts—the best he can do while downing a bottle of water—in response.

“Can I call you babe?”

Bakugou chokes on his spit.

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @beabe19

#as i said #we love an emotionally constpiated bakugou <3 #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bakugou angst

[spacedace]

Something I've seen in fics a few times but not for comedic effect is the idea that Constantine selling his soul so many times makes him look/feel Wrong to ghosts.

Like I love various Danny ghost shenanigans giving Constantine a heart attack in stories but just imagine that Constantine is like deeply, deeply unsettling for Ghosts & Liminals to be around.

To the point of whenever he and Danny meet for the first time at the Watchtower after Danny's joined the League, Constantine just walks in and upon turning to look at who just walked in Danny just shrieks like a small child and throws a chair at him out of reflex, diving behind Captain Marvel to use him as a magical human meat shield while screeching "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT???! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" At the top of his lungs and doesn't stop until Batman makes Constantine leave.

Even after Zantanna explains Constantine's whole deal and Danny explains to the Justice League how totally fucked up that looks/feels like to him ("Dude, Ghosts are their core, for us you see that before you see the shape of whoever you're talking to. Like, imagine someone walks up to you with a face that looks like it's made out of a shattered plate and the pieces are bleeding"

Or like, imagine instead it's a thing were Jason and Jazz are dating and Jazz, Danny & Elle are invited over for a nice meet the family brunch - "Brunch is fun and casual!" Dick insisted, "Way less intimidating than if we had them over for dinner!") and Constantine pops in to talk to Bruce about a case.

And the second he walks into the room all three just shriek like they're from an episode of Scooby Doo.

Elle takes one look at Constantine and just nopes out of there so hard she doesn't even gk intangible as she throws herself out the window and starts flying for the hills. Danny screeches like a cat whose tail has been stepped on and jumps onto the ceiling and scrambles away. Jazz screams like a house wife from an old Looney Tunes cartoon and starts climbing Jason like a tree - which is a bit of a problem since she's half a foot taller than Jay and throwing his center of balance off a bit and now half of the plates are smashed on the floor.

Jason doesn't even notice though because he also is losing his shit over what the fuck that thing is and unlike Elle is far more interested in Fight rather than Flight and pulls out a gun - "Why'd you bring a gun to brunch?! Guns aren't fun or casual!" - and just starts unloading on Constantine (who is very lucky Jason has switched to non lethal rounds and that he's quick enough with his spells to largely keep most of the rubber bullets from hitting him) also while screaming at the top of his lungs.

And well, turns out Jason's new girlfriend is the older sister of that ghost hero the League's been looking to recruit and Bruce is gonna take advantage of that - Phantom has been hard to pin down, which is fair, bad history with government agencies trying to kill him and all - to talk to him about a place with JL, though first he's going to have to get him down from the ceiling and that'd be a lot easier if Constantine would just leave already, they are supposed to be having a family brunch this is his one day off!

(Elle screams her all the way to Metropolis and doesn't stop until she nearly knocks Superman out of the sky. He isn’t really sure what's going on, but he does manage to calm her down and takes her to go get some ice cream. When he pitches joining JL she tells him that she thinks he's kinda lame but that Superboy is cool so she's down. It's...honestly kinda devastating but Clark manages to get through it.

A note gets made when the two ghost heroes officially join the League that partnerships with Constantine should be kept at an absolute minimum.)

And lol yeah, just, Constantine being utterly terrifying to Danny and the Pham

#dc x dp #dp x dc #batman #danny phantom #justice league #danny fenton #danielle phantom #dani phantom #danielle fenton #jazz fenton #jason todd #john constantine #anger management #Constantine thinks it's kinda funny #once they get to the point that no one instinctively tries to kill him on aight anymore #he likes to sneak up on Danny just to make him jump through the ceiling #batman made him stop after Danny activated his Wail while screaming for half a second & nearly shattered all the windows in the Watchtower #Danny gets all of Constantine's soul contracts just to make John stop looking like that #Constantine immediately took the blank slate and started his favorite hustle again

[ellemj]

Wear That Again: 12 Days of Smut #7

Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot

This fic was inspired by two things:

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8Ha16Rj/ this Tiktok edit by @the.stark.internship ( @thestarkinternship on Tumblr)

@littlemiss-yeehaw's latest smutty drawing which can be found on her blog, I've stared at it since yesterday and I'm still not over it.

Summary: Bucky ruins your brief holiday romance with a SHIELD agent out of jealousy. You'd think storming in and yelling at the super soldier would've ended in an argument and some slamming doors, but that's not what happens at all.

Warnings: profanity, some objectifying thoughts, possessive!Bucky, jealous!Bucky, thigh riding, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I don't know how tf it's happening but y'all have me averaging 1.2k notes per day on my blog for the last couple of days and it feels surreal. Also I just want to say, I wrote Bucky out-of-character for this one-shot and this is not how I imagine he'd be at all, but it was fun to write hehe.

            “You little fucking shit.” You finally snap as the elevator doors are opening to let you out into the common living area of the tower. “Bucky, you are such an asshole.” You’re absolutely livid, and if your words hadn’t showed that then your actions sure would’ve. You’re slamming your hands down on the kitchen island before the elevator doors have even fully closed. Bucky sits on a barstool with a near straight face, completely unaffected by your rage and only briefly looking up at you as he chews through a bite of his Chinese takeout. “You’re the reason he stood me up, aren’t you? What the hell did you do this time?”

            “Wear that outfit again.”

            You’re silent for the longest moment yet, at least fifteen seconds, and Bucky thinks it might be a new record for you. He hasn’t paid attention to a damn thing you’ve said since you walked in, but he sure as hell paid attention to what you chose to wear tonight. You were supposed to be going on your third date with a SHIELD agent who crossed your path a number of times professionally before finally asking you out two weeks ago, and with it being just six days until Christmas, you were dressing for the occasion tonight. You’re wearing a tight black turtleneck sweater that’s tucked neatly into the tiniest holiday-themed miniskirt you could find. It's a sort of festively-colored tight plaid skirt that barely covers a thing, but you didn’t wear it for any reason other than to encourage your date to rip it off of you later. However, Bucky made sure the poor guy wouldn’t even get the chance to see the damn thing.

            “What did you just say to me?” Your voice is shaking but not with fear, no. It’s shaking with the sheer amount of anger that’s currently eating you alive. Bucky lifts his gaze to meet yours as he sets his chopsticks down and picks up his half-empty beer bottle from the countertop. Letting his eyes roam over the entirety of your figure that isn’t obscured by the kitchen island, he boldly repeats himself.

            “Wear that again.”

            “If you like it, I’m burning it.” You say defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest as you glare at the man before you. Bucky lets out a low laugh now, the sound is melodious but his gaze hardens and narrows as he focuses in on your face.

            “If I like it?” All he can think about is pushing you up against a wall, lifting the back of that tiny little piece of fabric you call a skirt, and fucking you until Christmas morning. If he likes it? Hell, he fucking loves it.

            “That’s it, I’m burning it.” You’ve had enough. First, he ruins your short-lived holiday romance. Then, he has the audacity to act like your outfit is doing something for him. As you said before, he’s a little fucking shit. You shoot him one last passing glare as you move around the island and start heading toward the hallway, ready to lock yourself in your room and plot his demise for the rest of the night. But Bucky just can’t let you have the last word, and he sure as hell can’t let you walk away from him looking like something that belongs under the Christmas tree. Or more accurately, something that belongs under him.

            The two of you have done this dance so many times that you aren’t even surprised when you hear his barstool slide away from the island seconds before you feel a firm hand gripping your forearm and yanking you backward. You’re not surprised when suddenly, your front is pushed roughly against the wall of the hallway and his lips graze over the shell of your ear. Frustratingly, you’re not even a little bit surprised when you feel heat rushing through your body and settling between your legs.

            “You’ll wear that outfit again, when I tell you to.” Bucky’s tone is so much less indifferent than it was only a moment ago. It’s so full of lust that it leaves you trembling, awaiting whatever his next move may be. He knows no one else is in the tower tonight, which means if he wanted to, he could take you right here in the hallway and not feel an ounce of guilt over it. Who’s he kidding? He’s done that before even with everyone in the tower, and guilt sure wasn’t the feeling he felt afterward. But he wants you in his room tonight. You and that fucking skirt.

            Bucky takes your silence as obedience and steps away from you, letting you push yourself off of the wall and turn around to face him. If you’re being honest, you’re a little disappointed. That’s all he wants from you tonight?

            “How long has it been since the last time we had sex?” Bucky questions. He knows you remember, probably down to they very hour. He remembers, but he has to make sure you do too.

            “Two weeks.” You haven’t slept with Bucky since the SHIELD agent asked you out. Bucky mulls over the length of time in his mind. He wants to remedy that, he wants to fuck you tonight, but he won’t. You started seeing someone and threw Bucky to the side so easily that him waiting two weeks to ruin your dating life was the nicest possible thing he could’ve done in retaliation. He’s not going to give you what you need now, at least not everything you need.

            Bucky’s silent as he pushes open his bedroom door and waits for you to step inside before him. He’s still silent as he sits on the edge of the bed and beckons you to stand between his legs. He begins raking his hands up the outsides of your thighs, sliding them underneath your skirt until he feels the waistband of your sheer tights. He isn’t so silent when he begins sliding those down your legs, letting out a soft groan when his hands meet your bare skin underneath. It’s been too fucking long since he’s touched you and an unfamiliar peace settles in his soul when he feels your warmth. You’re expecting him to rip the tights off, followed by the skirt and everything else you’re wearing. However, Bucky’s plan involves keeping you nearly fully clothed, and only partially satisfied. Once he has your heels and tights on his bedroom floor, he kneads your ass underneath your skirt, letting his fingertips brush over the fabric of your thong. God, he’s really practicing his restraint tonight. His cock is already hard, threatening to rip the seam of his pants with even the slightest movement, but he isn’t planning on getting his own fix tonight.

            “Sit.” He commands, gripping your hips with both hands and pulling you down to straddle one of his thighs. As soon as your clothed core makes contact with the toned muscle of his thigh, you stiffen and try to shift your weight so you won’t be so stimulated. Bucky makes an annoyed face at you before slipping one hand back underneath your skirt and drawing your panties to the side, causing your wet clit to press against the fabric of his pants. “I’m not rewarding you for spending your time with some other guy for the last two weeks, I’m not having sex with you.”

            You’re about to protest, to tell Bucky that he’s being sensitive, that the two of you never had any rules about dating, but Bucky senses your opposition and begins dragging you back and forth over his thigh. He looks down between the two of you as a wet spot quickly begins forming where your pussy meets his clothed leg. Fuck. It feels too good for you to even consider stopping and telling him that he’s an asshole. So, you go along with his guiding movements, grinding against his leg and finding just the right amount of pressure and friction to start heading toward an orgasm.

            “You didn’t have to scare the guy off.” You mutter as you lean forward, letting your hands rest on Bucky’s shoulder as you place a gentle kiss against the side of his neck. He sighs and tilts his head to the side to give you better access, but his hands continue to guide the movement of your hips.

            “Three dates were enough. I couldn’t stand it anymore.” He admits. You feel an odd sense of pride surge through you at his words, though you have no idea if he’s being honest or not. “I couldn’t let him have you like this.” You suck on the skin just beneath Bucky’s left ear and pick up the pace with which you’re grinding on his thigh.

            “Fuck, James.”

            Bucky knows this isn’t the right time for the conversation, so as you grind out an orgasm on his thigh, letting out the most heavenly moans and whimpers just for him, he tells himself to hold it together until Christmas. That’s when he’ll tell you. That’s when he’ll tell you that he wants more than the angry, hateful late-night rendezvous in his room or yours. He wants more than sitting around waiting for you to come home from a date while he nearly goes insane with jealousy. He wants more of you. Fuck, he wants all of you.

            Just as you’re coming undone on his thigh while moaning his name and squeezing his shoulders, he lets his hands snake underneath your little plaid skirt. He grips your ass with both hands, digging his fingertips into the supple skin there as he leans into your neck. You feel him take a deep breath in as you’re coming down from your orgasm high.

            “Why do you always smell so fucking good?” He asks, licking a small stripe up the side of your neck before pressing his lips against it in a soft kiss. You only hum lightly in response, your brain not quite ready to formulate a full sentence. Bucky presses a second kiss to your neck, and then a third as his works his way up to your lips. His hands move to smooth over the fabric of that little skirt that he can’t seem to get over. “Stay away from the fireplace this week. I can’t have you burning this skirt.”

TAG LIST: @sunnyhummingbee @gyokujyn @jenniferpendragon @thealloveru2 @siciliano13 @ordelixx @crist1216 @twlkdead @claireelizabeth85 @charmedbysarge @wishingforwonderland @mrsjoequinn @nixxaswrld @sweettae02 @frombkjar @hellfirebabe @edelweissbarnes @fandomsfeminismandme @missadored

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu #winter soldier #the winter soldier #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #marvel

[drivergemini]

hellfire baby :: e.m.

summary: when starting a new campaign, the hellfire club didn’t except to see a toddler sitting in their club leader’s throne

content warning: parenting & pregnancy, talks about teen parenting, swearing, basically really fluffy, child’s features mostly based off of eddie

word count: 1013

when all of the hellfire boy’s entered through the theater room’s doors, they felt a huge rush of excitement. eddie had been hyping up his new campaign for about a month and told everyone that he was going to do something real special for their first meeting. 

what they did not expect was a small little girl, maybe around 1 or 2 years old, sitting in their dungeon master’s place. she had a pink dragon onesie on and her big brown eyes stared back at the group. 

“why good evening lovely gentlemen.” eddie popped out from behind his throne, holding a small sandwich bag filled with ‘star wars’ cookies. he handed it to the child with barely any acknowledgement and she gladly grabbed it with eager hands. “are you lads ready to start this wonderful campaign?”

each boy had their own looks of confusion on their faces. they looked at eddie and then the child, then back again.

“eddie why the hell is there a baby here?” dustin was the one who spoke up. 

eddie’s face sported a wide grin. “well guys i would like to introduce you to the surprise i mentioned.” he scooped up the little girl and presented her to the d&d club memebers. “everyone this is my daughter mei. say hi mei mei.”

“hi mei mei.” the little voice spoke a she waved a tiny hand to the boys. she tugged her onesie hood down, reveling long, brown hair, just like her dad’s.

“daughter? eddie we didn’t even know you could speak to girls?” mike chimed in.

“well wheeler, if it matters to you, i don’t speak to girls because i already have my fiance.” he raised his eyebrows at the last part. 

you see, eddie munson didn’t become a super-super senior because he was dumb. he became a super-super senior because he accidentally got his high school girlfriend pregnant. they had been together since they were 16. eddie and y/n were going great until the summer before their senior year. y/n’s pregnancy took a large toll to both of their academics, so eddie decided he would try and lighten his girlfriend’s stress load. on april 29th, 1984, their daughter was born. 

he thought y/n’s future was too bright for her to be held back, so after she gave birth he let her continue as an almost normal high school student. eddie didn’t get to graduate that year. but he did get to hold his baby as he watched the love of his life walk the stage. 

he didn’t graduate his second senior year either. he was too caught up in healthy parenting and making sure he was there to watch his daughter’s firsts. he watched her first steps, her first time eating solid foods, and even heard her first word. ‘dragon’.

so here he was, his third senior year, finally ready to walk that stage.

as eddie finished up the story he heard a sniff. all heads turned toward the direction of lucas. 

“dude that story was so beautiful. i didn’t even know that.”

“yeah most people don’t except a few people who were in school during that time like harrington. but y/n kind of chose to drop off the map so it isn’t talked about much.” eddie sat down in his chair and placed his daughter on his lap. “now that introductions are out of the way, shall we get started?”

- 

eddie’s new campaign was centered around exploring an abandoned gem mine to figure out what was terrorizing the near by townsfolk. 

“so little dwarf, you enter the cave with your mates behind you. as you guide them with your light, the air becomes increasingly warm. as you approach the growing heat, you see a shimmer of pink scales.”

“munson you did not...” dustin starts as his hands grip the table.

“you raise your torch higher and you see her in all her glory...” eddie lifts mei off of his lap and places her in the middle of the table. “mei the fire breathing dragon.”

all the boys start to exclaim in frustration. what kind of sick father makes his own kid the first boss of his d&d campaign? eddie munson that’s who. after explaining they all need a time out to discuss, they all huddled in the corner. 

“dude what are we going to do? we can’t slay the dragon. i mean look at her, she’s adorable!” dustin whispered.

“i mean honestly if you think about it, it’s just a game.” mike said. typical.

“yes but the moral principal of it is, eddie knows that we would have to be sick son’s of bitches to kill a kid. especially his daughter.” dustin explained frustrated. 

him and mike felt a little wedge between their legs. they all looked down to see mei still holding her bag of cookies. 

“tooktie?” she raised it up to the air, offering the boys a share of her snack. 

each boy took only one, while politely thanking her for sharing. she unwedged herself from the huddle and waddled towards her dad. 

“juice peas?” she said to him, pointing to a sippy cup sitting on the table. he handed her the cup and looked at the clock on the wall.

“unfortunately boys, time is up for today’s meeting.” eddie tsked. 

just as he said that, y/n opened the door to the club room and walked in scanning around. each person all had their eyes on her.

“mommy!” mei squealed, running towards the young woman. she jumped into her arms, y/n picking her up and spinning her around. 

eddie grabbed a small child lunch box and walked towards the two girls. “as you see i can't stay any later than i’m supposed to tonight guys. but this will give you some more time to think about your next move.”

he trailed behind the two girls, waving everyone goodbye. 

as the door closed, each hellfire member could hear a faint, “eddie why is our daughter talking about slaying a dragon?”

followed by “edward munson why did our daughter just say son of a bitch?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things 4 #eddie munson my beloved #parenting fic #the baby fever has been real yall #hellfire baby sushihousebread

[honeyedmiller]

A Burning Desire part three

firefighter!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

rating: 18+, minors dni.

warnings: joel miller au, firefighter!joel, reader feels anxious for a bit, feelings, fluff, the miller brothers line dancing (that deserves its own warning bc whew... anyway), the cowboy hat rule!!!, slight smut (joel and reader get touchy and rub up on each other, making out, fingering), no use of y/n.

word count: 5.6k

synopsis: joel invites you over for a barbecue, and you end up unexpectedly meeting sarah while also rekindling with someone from your past. it isn’t until you talk about joel aloud to someone who isn’t your sister that you realize how deeply you feel for him.

a/n: thank u to @endlessthxxghts for letting me brainstorm about this chapter, and giving me the cowboy hat rule idea... ;)

You were nervous. 

Nervous as hell. 

The slightly anxious part of you wanted so desperately to back out of today’s plans, but you promised Joel you’d be at his place. 

He was throwing a barbecue at his house and had invited you, and originally, Sarah wasn’t supposed to be there. Her friend got sick, so she ended up staying home. 

You hadn’t known Joel for more than a month at this point, and the prospect of meeting his daughter and being introduced as the “woman he’s been dating but not quite his girlfriend” terrified you. 

The last thing you wanted was for Sarah to dislike you, because you couldn’t bear the thought of the one person in Joel’s life who’s opinion mattered most to him not being very fond of you. 

Joel said she’d been okay with him dating and only wanted to see him happy, but wasn’t it too soon? The last thing you wanted was to wedge yourself between the father-daughter duo. 

Then again, your feelings for Joel had hit you full-force, and you were in it with him—for him. You’d cried to your sister over the phone about being scared of feeling things too fast, but she reassured you: if you know, you know. 

Nobody has ever made you feel the way Joel makes you feel. Your thoughts may’ve been repetitive with what you felt, but that’s how you knew you were so sure about him. He was a breath of fresh air in a place full of smoke (no pun intended). 

You were just worried what Sarah would think. Some might think it’s ridiculous to let a fourteen-year-old’s opinion matter so much in this circumstance, but that girl was Joel’s whole world. Her opinion of you mattered and could quite literally make or break your relationship with Joel. 

You’d be devastated if it didn’t work out. 

You nervously tapped on the steering wheel as you stopped at the last stop sign before turning onto Joel’s street. 

The quaint neighborhood just outside of the city was chalk-full of cookie cutter homes, looking like it belonged in a friendly neighborhood magazine. 

Several cars were parked in front of his house, but he’d texted you to park in his driveway beside his truck. It was sweet that he saved that spot for you. Another truck was parked in the driveway as well, and you assumed by default that it was Tommy’s. 

You grabbed the tray of cookies out of the passenger seat after you’d gotten out and smoothed your sundress to straighten it out. Joel said everyone at the firehouse loved your cookies, especially him and Tommy, so you made them as a surprise to bring for a dessert option today. 

Nerves coursed through your veins as you made your way up the front steps of his porch, ringing the doorbell. The chime went off in the house with a muffled “I’ll get it!” coming from the other side of the door. 

A few seconds later, the door opened and you were met with a smiling Tommy. 

“Hey there sweetheart, c’mon in.” He stepped aside and you thanked him as you entered the house. It was your first time over, so you took a second to take in your surroundings. 

Many family photos clung neatly to the walls, the leather couches in the living room adorned with quilted blankets, an array of DVD’s scattered around the entertainment center, a well-worn but gorgeous coffee table that sat atop the huge area rug, and the mantle above the fireplace full of trinkets from past trips and a few of Sarah’s soccer trophies. 

You smiled as you took in the scene before you, really admiring how cozy the home looked. It looked lived in and well loved, and it was all very much Joel. Simple, yet homey and functional. 

“Ooh, are those the same cookies you made for us back at the firehouse?” Tommy motions to the tray in your hand, bringing you back to present time. 

“They are. Thought I’d surprise you and Joel with these again.” You laugh as Tommy’s eyes light up, leading you to the kitchen. 

“Don’t blame me if these are all gone by the end of the night. You should give your recipe to Sarah. She loves to bake.” He groans as he takes a cookie from the tray, biting into it. 

You have to stifle a laugh at his genuine reaction. You knew your cookies were decent, but not as good as the Miller brothers made them out to be. 

“Speaking of, where’s your counterpart?” You teasingly ask, too shy to go into the backyard and introduce yourself to the array of people chatting and having a good time. 

You didn’t do too well in new settings, so it would take you a little while to warm up. 

“Ah, he’s cookin’ on the grill.” Tommy jerks his head toward the sliding glass door that leads out the backyard, and you follow in his footsteps as you walk up to the main man of the gathering. 

“Oh Jooooeeellll,” Tommy calls out with you in tow, “Found your girlfriend for ya.” He teases, and your heart skips a beat at that. You’re just dating the man. It wasn’t anything official yet, and somehow it just seemed so fitting. 

Joel didn’t correct Tommy either, which you took note of as his gaze averted to yours. A smile immediately spread onto his lips and he pulled you into a hug, kissing your forehead. You took a second to study the contrast of his tan skin against the white linen shirt he was wearing with the first few buttons undone, and the Raybans that sat comfortably on his face. You held in a groan, because fuck he looked so good, once again. Does this man ever look bad? 

“Hey baby.” 

Your face heats at the public display of affection, but it dawned on you that he was never trying to hide you or keep you a mystery like you were doing to him. 

Well, your sister knew about him of course, but everyone else in your family didn’t have the faintest idea. They were too overbearing sometimes, and you wanted to be official with Joel before you even said a word to anyone about him. 

“Hi handsome. I brought some cookies but left them inside. Thought I could surprise you again with them.” You grin at him, and he smiles as he pulls you into his side. 

“I’m gonna let you two lovebirds have a moment to yourselves. Gonna go find my lady and introduce you to her.” Tommy pretends to tip an invisible cowboy hat and sends a wink your way. You huff a laugh and shake your head at his wit. 

“He always that charismatic?” You question, and Joel laughs. 

“It’s even worse when he’s drunk.” He rolls his eyes, and you bury your smile in his bicep. You wrap your arm around his back as you watch him work the grill, flipping hamburgers and chicken that are seasoned to perfection. 

“‘M glad you could make it today, darlin’. Was startin’ to miss ya real bad. Those twenty four hour shifts kick my ass, I tell ya.” He sighs and gives your body a light, playful shake. 

“Of course, Joel. I missed you too.” You gave his shoulder a kiss before Tommy called your name to avert your attention to him. Your eyes flit to the woman he has his arm wrapped around, and your eyes widen in shock. 

“This is my girl–”

“Maria?” You interrupt Tommy, and her smile spreads wide. 

“Oh my god! Hey you! How long has it been?” She’s laughing as you two embrace each other while the Miller brothers give each other a confused glance. 

“Four years I think? How are you?” You grin, separating from her, holding onto her forearms. 

“Wow I can’t believe it’s been that long. I’m great! Just dealing with this guy over here,” She juts her chin over to Tommy, and his eyes flicker between you two. 

“Sooo you two know each other?” He asks, and you both laugh in unison. 

“We used to work together at the same company. Our cubicles were across from each other.” Maria explains, and you nod along. 

“Well I’ll be damned. Small world!” Tommy grins, patting Joel on the back harshly. Joel glares at his brother and rolls his eyes, turning back to the grill to take the food off and place it into the foil pans next to him. 

“Dad, is the food done yet? You hear a voice call, and you stiffen up immediately. Maria notices your change in demeanor and gives your arm a squeeze of reassurance, which you exchange for a weak smile. 

A curly-haired girl with bright green eyes comes into view. He turns to look at her and nods, motioning to the foil pans. 

“Lemme fix you up a plate. But first, I want you to meet someone.” He says, and he holds his hand out to you. Maria releases your arm so you can step forward and grab Joel’s hand, and Sarah’s bright green eyes meet your gaze. 

“This is the woman I’ve been datin’. Darlin’, this is my daughter Sarah.” 

You extend your hand to her with a sincere smile, hoping she didn’t pick up on your nerves. 

“Ah, so you’re the woman my dad can’t stop talking about!” She laughs, flashing you her gorgeous smile. 

“Oh really?” You quirk an eyebrow up and look at Joel, nudging him playfully. 

He raises his hands in defense, “Guilty as charged.” You huff a laugh at Joel and shift your gaze back to Sarah. 

“It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you as well.” 

“Do you mind if I steal her for a second, dad?” Sarah asks, and you can’t help but feel extremely anxious. You genuinely don’t think a fourteen year old has ever made you so frazzled with nerves like this before. 

You follow her to the lounge chairs by the pool, taking a seat across the one she sat in. 

She slaps her thighs with her hands, a small smile evading her lips. 

“So,” She starts, seemingly collecting her thoughts. “This isn’t some ‘what are your intentions with my dad’ intervention, I promise. But, like, I really hope you’re serious about him.” She looks at you with apprehension in her eyes, and you’re a bit taken aback by her words. 

You could’ve guessed this was coming. Judging from what Joel has told you about their relationship, it was only fitting that she’d be so protective of him.

“I’ve seen him get hurt before. Not just by what my mother did, but with other women, too. I honestly think you’re the first woman who didn’t skip out on him after finding out he has a kid.” 

“That would never make me run. Your bond with your father is something that’s so strong, and I would never want to come between that. I can promise you that your dad has a better chance at breaking my heart than I do breaking his.” 

“He won’t. He’s a good man and he deserves someone kindhearted like you. I can tell you are. I’m glad you two found each other. I haven’t seen him this happy and relaxed in… a long time.” Sarah laughs, and you can’t help but smile at her admission.

“I pinky promise I’ll treat him great. He’s a real special guy, and I like him a lot.” You hold your pinky out to her, and with a beaming smile, she hooks her pinky with yours and gives it a little shake. 

“I know. It’s just nice to finally see him getting his feelings reciprocated back to him. Most women only romanticize the uniform he wears and not the person he actually is.” 

“Well, I gotta say, they all definitely missed out on an amazing man.” And part of you was thankful for that, which is something you didn’t want to admit aloud. 

Because if it weren’t for those women in his past that didn’t work out with him, you would’ve never had a chance with him. You glance over at Joel, and he was chatting with some other guests. You couldn’t help admire him and his calm, happy demeanor. 

As if he senses you looking, he turns his head in your direction to meet your gaze and winks. You offer him a soft smile before turning back to Sarah. 

“They are, but something tells me you’re here to stay. Not saying that to like, I don’t know, scare you off or anything, but you and him really do make a nice couple.” 

“Actually,” You huff a laugh and glance over at him once more, “He hasn’t asked me to be official or anything yet. I am here for the long haul, though, and I want you to know that I respect you and your relationship with your dad. I wouldn’t ever want to overstep any boundaries.” 

Sarah groans and huffs, rolling her eyes as she looks over at Joel. “This man, I swear. Want me to yell at him for you?” The mischievous glint in her eye tells you she would actually do so. 

You shake your head with a laugh, and she puts her hand on your shoulder as she leans forward. 

“Also, you don’t need to worry about overstepping. It’s… nice having someone else around. I appreciate you saying you respect our relationship, though. Dad was always apprehensive about bringing women over because my opinion means so much to him. You’ve got my approval in the bag, though.” 

“I appreciate that, Sarah. I’m sorry if meeting me was too soon or awkward for you. I wasn’t expecting to exchange pleasantries today.” She grins and waves her hand between your bodies at your words. 

“Nonsense. I’ve been pretty excited to meet you, seeing as you have my dad crushing like a teenage boy again. I just want him to be happy, and I know he is with you.” She throws her arm over your shoulders, and you immediately reciprocate the hug. 

Admitting to Sarah that you were in this for the long haul even shocked you. It’s not that you didn’t want to be, but your love life in the past hasn’t exactly been to your liking. Joel is different, though, and seeing that he has people in his corner who love and care about him tells you that they’d go to great lengths to protect him. 

It was crystal clear that both of you wanted whatever was going on between you two. You were apprehensive to put your all into it. 

You’ve been known to pull back when things got serious. It was a defense mechanism to protect your heart and peace. 

You knew you were falling, but the million dollar question still remained: would Joel catch you? 

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Sarah separated herself from you. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” She says, and she coaxes you to follow her back to the grill where Joel and Tommy stood. 

“Everythin’ good?” Joel asks, slinging his arm around your shoulder. You nod and offer him a smile. 

You were about to go after you plated your food, but Joel shook his head and gently pulled you back to him. 

“Uh uh, where you goin’?” He has a goofy grin on his lips as he pulls you in, giving you a kiss. You can’t help but laugh against his lips and gently push him away. 

“There’s people here, Joel!” You playfully tsk, and he squints his eyes. 

“What, I can’t kiss my girl?” 

My girl. The phrase made butterflies swirl in your stomach and heat to rise to your face. 

“Never said that, but technically, I’m not your girl yet.” You quirk an eyebrow at him. 

Tommy laughs and nudges Joel, “Damn brother, you haven’t asked her to be official yet? Hell’s wrong with ya? Hop to it!” 

“Coming from someone who didn’t settle down until like a year ago. Shut up you little shit.” Joel huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Was watin’ for the right one! Then this beauty changed my life in the best way possible and put me in my place,” Tommy pulls Maria into his side, kissing her cheek. She rolls her eyes and nudges him playfully, walking back into the house before Tommy points at you. “‘N this missy right here is gonna do the exact same for ya. Don’t be ‘fraid to put him in his place, sweetheart, he needs it.” Tommy howls with laughter as Joel glares at him.

“So fuckin’ dramatic.” Joel mumbles under his breath.

“So what, you don’t want me to put you in your place?” You’re enjoying seeing him squirm a little as your hand traces circles over the white linen that clings to his back. 

“Nah, it ain’t that. You can put me in my place anytime, baby.” He winks, and you immediately pick up on the innuendo behind his voice. 

“You’re fighting with fire, Mr. Miller.” You murmur to him, and his hand moves down to your ass to give it a subtle, playful squeeze. 

“‘S my job, baby.” 

“Don’t think this is one you can put out.” You wink at him before walking away to join Maria in the house.

“Okay, you have to tell me everything,” Maria situates herself on the couch with a glass of wine. You sit down next to her and tuck your legs under yourself, smoothing your dress out before leaning your head on your fist. “How in the world did you and Joel become a thing? What happened to that one guy that you used to tell me about?” 

You laugh at her enthusiasm toward your love life, inhaling a deep breath before diving into the story about your shitty ex and all the stupid trust issues he gave you. He really did a number on you, which is why you were so content with being single and thriving. You told Maria that you kept your guard up to protect yourself and your heart, because the last thing you wanted was to give your all to someone once again, only to be burned. Maria put her hand on your knee as a reassuring smile spread across her lips. 

“Honey, I can promise you that that man standing out there has it bad for you. Doesn’t matter how long you’ve been seeing each other. I can see it in the way he looks at you,” Your gaze trails out to the backyard as Joel sips on a beer, talking with Tommy and a few others who you presume are the neighbors before Maria’s voice pulls your attention back to her, “Joel is a good man, and despite the way you both have been hurt in the past, you still both found each other and gave this,” She waves her hands to gesture between you and him, “A chance. Lord knows that man could use a good woman like you in his life.” 

You felt the sting behind your eyes immediately. Maria’s words were nothing short of assuring, and she smiles as you wipe your tears with a small laugh. 

“Baby, just because you finally got the flame on your candle to burn bright again, doesn’t mean he’s going to dim yours. His is finally strong on its own, too. I know that you’re so independent and you’ve been used to it for some time now, but let his flame make yours even stronger. You can be stronger together.” 

And you knew she was right. The clarity blindsided you, but you got your answer: Joel would one hundred percent, undoubtedly catch you. 

-

A few hours later, the sun had started to set and the neighbors went back to their respective homes, leaving you, Maria, Tommy, Joel and Sarah left. You and Maria insisted you help clean up even though Joel and Tommy both told you it wasn’t necessary. You both waved them off and got everything put away and washed in less than an hour. 

Maria refilled her glass of wine as you poured yourself one and both went to settle back onto the couch, Joel and Tommy in tow. Sarah came running down the stairs and up to Joel, a pleading look strewn across her features. 

“Kelly invited me over to a night swim and slumber party. Can I go? Please?” She had a hopeful look as she clasped her hands together to shake them, silently begging Joel to say yes. 

“I thought she was sick?” He asked, running his hands over the stubble on his chin. 

“No dad, Sasha is the one that’s sick.” 

You tried to stifle a laugh at her ‘duh’ tone, so you just bit your lip and stared at him. He sighed and looked at you, his demeanor changing in the slightest. 

“Sure, but please check in with me every few hours or so. Do I need to drop you off?” He asks, resting his beer bottle on his thigh. 

“Thank you!” She throws her arms around him, and he grunts as he returns the hug. “No, Kelly’s mom offered to pick me up. She can drop me back off tomorrow, too.” She says, and before Joel can get another word in, she rushes back upstairs. 

Joel sighs as he leans back into the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Teenagers.” He grumbles, taking a swig of his beer. You pat his thigh and lean into him, giving him a smile. 

“Well now that it’s just goin’ to be adults, why don’t we get the real party started,” Tommy wiggles his brows, and all three of you look at him in confusion. “‘S a joke, people. Sheesh. How ‘bout some music, though.” He connects his phone to the speaker sitting on one of the shelves, playing a mix of late 90’s and country music. 

Joel finds himself leaning into you as one of his hands slips below the hem of your dress, drawing circles into the skin of your thigh. His touch sends a shiver down your spine and he looks at you with a quirked brow, clearly pleased with your reaction to his touch. 

You got turned on so easily now. It wasn’t fair. Just one look alone from the older Miller brother could have your panties around your ankles in milliseconds, and you truly weren’t above begging him to touch you. 

The smug smirk on his face told you he knew it, too, but you both agreed to take things slow. You couldn’t even remember why you agreed to such a thing, because the tension between you two had been through the roof since your date at the fair. You truly didn’t know how much self restraint you had. 

Maria’s laugh had ripped through your thoughts, earning your undivided attention. 

“No way. I don’t believe you.” She says, laughing at Tommy. 

“‘S true! Joel and I are a couple ‘a Austin’s finest line dancers.” Tommy shrugs, looking over at Joel. 

“Those days are long over, brother.” Joel groans, leaning his head back onto the couch. 

“Bullshit. Betcha still know how to dance to Brooks & Dunn.” 

“Even if I did—”

“C’mon cowboy, show us what you got.” You tease, and Joel shakes his head. 

“Mm mm. Won’t do it unless you ladies do it with us.” He negotiates, and your eyes flit to Maria who smiles upside down and shrugs her shoulders.

“Wouldn’t hurt to learn.” She says, and you nod in agreement. 

“It’s settled then.” Tommy slaps his thighs, standing up and offering his hand to Maria. Tommy tosses Joel his Stetson off of the coat rack which Joel catches with ease, putting it onto his head as he grins at you, offering his hand to help you stand up. 

“Hey dad! Kelly’s mom is here– oh god, are you and Uncle Tommy line dancing again?” She groans, and Joel holds his hands up in defense. 

“Uncle Tommy coaxed me into it and these lovely ladies here wanna learn. Not my fault.” 

Sarah rolls her eyes and looks between you and Maria. “Good luck with these two knuckleheads. It was nice to meet you!” She says as she heads for the door. 

“You too!” You call back. 

“Text me when you get there, please.” Joel calls out to her, and she says ‘kay!’ before the front door shuts behind her. Tommy plays the familiar tune of Boot Scootin’ Boogie, and Joel stands next to him before they start to dance in sync. They both hold on to the front of the waistbands of their pants where their belts would presumably be as their footwork syncs up perfectly. 

You and Maria watch in awe as they move together effortlessly, mentally noting the moves they’re repeating. Maria nudges you and you look at her with a shit-eating grin on your face. 

“Girl, are you seeing this? Got damn near ten degrees hotter in here just watching my man dance.” 

“Tell me about it. If Joel and I weren’t taking it slow, I’d probably jump his bones right now.” 

“More power to you. I couldn’t do that even if I tried my damndest.” 

“Trust me, it’s hard. Especially when he looks like… that.” You stare at Joel as he lets the familiar movements flow through his bones, dancing on beat to the upbeat song. He looks at you and shoots you a wink, making you bite your lip to hide your smile. 

“C’mon ladies.” Tommy waves you both over, and you both join in with them. It takes a couple of tries to sync up with Joel, but you’re eventually moving with him. He takes your hand and spins you, pulling you into him as he presses you flush against his chest. 

You smirk at him and pluck his Stetson off of his head, putting it onto yours. Joel moves his hand to the small of your back, causing you to practically grind into him while you dance. You bite your lip and bat your lashes as you can feel the tension in Joel’s body that desperately needs relief. He shakes his head with a chuckle, leaning in as his lips brush your ear. 

“Ever heard of the cowboy hat rule, baby?” His voice is raspy and low. He noses at your jawline before leaving a kiss below your ear, pulling his face back into your view. 

You shake your head no, and as the song ends, he gives Tommy a look before intertwining your hand with his to lead you upstairs. 

“Joel—” You start, but as soon as you step into his bedroom, he closes the door and locks it. He cages you in between both of his strong arms, hands resting on either side of your head as he pops his knee out. It’s dangerously close to your aching cunt, and if you moved forward just a bit, you could easily grind yourself onto him. 

The thought was tempting but your mind went blank, the close proximity between you both making your head spin. 

“The cowboy hat rule,” He starts, leaning down to kiss your neck, “Is when a lady takes a man’s cowboy hat off of his head n’ puts it on herself. Means that the lady wants to be with the man and essentially wants to do more with him.” 

“M-more?” Your breath catches in your throat as his hot tongue glides over the warmth of your neck. You’re beginning to pant harder, hands twitching at your sides, aching to touch him. 

“Mhm.” He slots his thigh between your legs, and you can’t help the soft moan that bubbles in your throat at the delicious friction. 

“Had a whole romantic thing planned in my head on how to ask you to be my girl, but fuck baby, I can’t wait no more. I know it ain’t been long, but I really want you to be mine. ‘N I sure would love to be your man.” 

Your brain starts to function a little better, so you bring your hands up to cup his face. You can’t help the grin that spreads on your lips, Joel mirroring you. 

“Don’t need fancy. Just need you, baby. I’d love to be yours, Joel.” 

And he steals a searing kiss from you, arms wrapping around you as he moves you both backwards toward his bed. He takes his hat off of your head before setting it on his dresser, sitting down on his bed as you follow suit and straddle him. His hands hold onto your thighs, teasing you as they move underneath the hemline of your dress. 

His lips separate from yours and he buries his face into your neck, kissing and licking your soft flesh as he grabs a handful of your ass. You can’t help but grind yourself into him like last time, the carnal desire for him shredding through you as your self-restraint dwindles down to nearly nothing. 

“I-I know we said slow, but baby, can I touch you?” He asks, and you fervently nod your head. Your thoughts were so jumbled that you couldn’t be bothered to form a coherent response. Your senses were all-consumed by this man under you—your boyfriend. You smile at the thought before your jaw goes slack when his hand moves your underwear to the side, fingers sliding through your slick folds. 

You bite your lip to stifle the whine that shoots through your chest, heart leaping into your throat. You knew it wouldn’t take much for you to come undone if Joel kept teasing you the way he did. 

“Shit, baby, you’re so fuckin’ wet. This all for me, pretty girl?” He asks, his Southern drawl as thick as honey, darkened eyes meeting yours. 

“Yes.” You cry, rutting your hips against his fingers.

“Can I?” He asks, prodding the tip of his fingers at your entrance. You nod once again, gripping onto his shoulders as you begin to leave kisses across his neck and collarbone. He slides a finger down to the knuckle in you effortlessly, and you can’t help but nip at his neck as the sensation courses through your body. 

His one finger alone could reach places yours never could, and it made you dizzy. He slipped another finger into you, the stretch stinging in the slightest as you rocked onto his hand. 

“So fuckin’ tight, baby. There you go.” Joel guides you as he begins to move his own fingers, curling them in your warmth. He was hitting that spot that you could barely ever reach, making your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your head fell back, panting his name repeatedly as you felt the coil already tightening in your core. 

“So fuckin’ pretty, hm? My girl is so gorgeous like this, gettin’ herself off on my fingers. Look like a fuckin’ angel, darlin’. Such a good girl.” Joel praises you, and your head snaps up as your eyes meet his. He has a devilish smirk on his lips as you thread your fingers through his curls, smashing your lips to his. He groans into the kiss and picks up the pace of his fingers, your arousal now dripping down to his wrist. He felt your pussy clench around his digits, and he was coaxing you to come undone. 

“That’s it baby. Can feel ya, I know you wanna cum. Give it t’me.” He says, and he swallows your moans in a kiss as the band snaps in your core, body convulsing as you ride out your orgasm. 

You’re breathless as you slump against him, kissing his neck repeatedly as you try and catch your breath. 

He slowly slides his fingers out of you and you moan at the loss of fullness, gaze meeting his once again. He slips his fingers coated in your arousal into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as he tastes you. He leans in to kiss you, and you can easily taste yourself on his tongue. 

“So fuckin’ sweet. Can I taste all of ya?” He asks, and you don’t even think twice before you nod. He flips you around onto the bed, kneeling onto the floor as he hooks both of his fingers into the waistband of your panties. You’re about to lift your hips so he can slide them off of you when a sharp knock on his door sounds. 

He groans and sits on his haunches, forehead falling onto your thigh. You giggle and sit up, running your hands through his curls. 

“What, Tommy?” Joel calls out, and Tommy laughs on the other side of the door. 

“Jus’ lettin’ ya know Maria ‘n I are gonna stay in the guest bedroom. The hell are you doin’ in there?” 

Joel gets up with a grunt and stalks toward his bedroom door, unlocking it before swinging it open.

“None of your goddamn business. That’s what.” Joel rolls his eyes, and Tommy raises his hands in defense. 

“Shit, my bad!” He looks past Joel and winks at you, and your face heats up immediately. 

“You have five seconds to get out of my face before I beat your ass. Fuckin’ cockblock.” Joel grumbles, glaring at his brother. 

“Fair. Carry on. Wrap it before you tap it!” He turns on his heel and trudges down the stairs, and Joel turns back around to look at you, face beet red. 

“Ignore him.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Noted,” You pat the spot next to you and he rejoins you on the bed. “Now where were we?”

tags: @ilovepedro ; @nostalxgic ; @endlessthxxghts ; @punkshort ; @pamasaur ; @clawdee ; @pascalpvnk ; @bensonispunk ; @merz-8 ; @darkblue-tennesseee ; @buckyispunk ; @untamedheart81 ; @picketniffler ; @fluffygoffpanda ; @paleidiot ; @typewriter83 ; @lizzie-cakes ; @sawymredfox ; @keylimebeag ; @nandan11 ; @pedropascalsbbg ; @pimosworld ; @yxtkiwiyxt ; @anoverwhelmingdin

divider by @saradika-graphics

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagines #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel miller au #firefighter!joel #firefighter!joel miller #joel miller smut #fic: a burning desire

[ponderingmoonlight]

How JJK men act in and after a fight

Pairing: Gojo x reader, Megumi x reader, Nanami x reader

Word Count: 4,1k (a big baby)

Warnings: obviously hurt in every part but also a loooot of fluff, Megumi being as inexperienced as he is lol, Nanami's part is pure fan service, you're very welcome

Notes: I consider writing part ll of that with Choso, Geto and maybe Toji. If you're down for that, just leave me a comment or a like <3 as always thank y'all from the bottom of my heart for the love and support you give me, I truly don't deserve it <3

Part ll with Geto, Choso and Yuji can be found here

Tags: @ifuckfictionalmen @sanicsmut

Gojo Satoru

“So you think I’m being ridiculous? I saw the way she looked at you and how her hand brushed against yours way too often”, you hiss, whole body trembling in pure rage.

“Oh, so every woman that touches me is apparently into me, now I get it”, he sarcastically remarks.

You bite your tongue, desperately trying to stop yourself from crying. Why is he not able to understand that you don’t feel comfortable with that situation at all? You told him over and over, especially when she completely ignored your presence on your first meeting. How does he not see all of this?

“You…You transferred money to her. A lot, actually. And all of that after she completely ignored me when you introduced me”

“Just like I do for you-“

“I’m your wife, moron!”, you scream on top of your lungs.

Satoru’s face is twisted in annoyance. He thought he’d come home to your loving arms, cuddling on the couch after a stressful day. But this? You stormed into him the second he opened the door, holding up bank statements. Over the past weeks, this happened way too often, interrupting your otherwise very peaceful marriage in a way Satoru can’t take any longer.

“So what? We’re colleagues, (y/n). You are my wife, why don’t you get that I am forced to work with other women from time to time?”, he questions.

The way he rolls his blue orbs at you sends you over the edge completely.

“So colleagues transfer money, hold deep eye contact and touch each other oh so casually when having a conversation? Don’t fuck with me, Satoru. I told you over and over that it bugs me, that I’m concerned. And you do absolutely nothing about it.”

“Maybe if you’d stop acting like a bitch!”, he cries out in frustration.

Your heart sinks immediately when is words hit you with full force. Even though your relationship with Satoru does get pretty heated from time to time, he never called you names. Never.

Not until now, when it comes to that woman.

You need to get off his sight, away from his stinging presence. Without saying another word, you storm into your shared bedroom and lock the door behind you before he’s able to follow you.

“Maybe if you’d stop acting like a bitch!”

His stinging words repeat themselves over and over in your head while you can’t hold back your tears any longer. This is so unfair. Why is he too blind to see the way she hunts after him, that she wants him to be more than a simple colleague? All you want him is to understand how uncomfortable this situation is for you, that you feel somehow betrayed.

“Open the door, (y/n)”, his clear voice is heard from behind the door.

Satoru knew he overdid it the second he saw the devastated look on your face. No matter how ridiculous this whole topic is, you don’t deserve his anger towards you. Mei isn’t more than a colleague for him though, a woman he has worked with on missions for years. She surely doesn’t like him like that, it’s simply impossible-

His phone vibrates in his pants, making him take a look at the screen.

What do you think about dinner tonight? Just the two of us.

He signs at her message, realization hitting him like a wall. Fuck, what did he do? The countless times her touch brushed over him, the messages she sent him not work related at all every night and how she always avoided the conversation when it came to you flood his mind uncontrollably. How could he make you feel this way? You told him over and over that you feel uncomfortable with this situation, asked him for compromises. And now…

Now he made you feel unwanted, delusional and dumb. You are his wife, the love of his life, the one thing that keeps him going in this world full of madness.

“Can you let me in, (y/n)? I’m sorry…”, he hushes against the closed door.

You can’t catch your breath, dry sobs hunt your body down when a new wave of sorrow washes over you. Does he even love you? All this time you thought you were the love of his life, his pride. But now…It feels like he chose that woman over you, that he cares about her opinion and feelings more than yours.

“I’m coming in”, he softly announces.

Of course, a simple closed door can’t keep him out if he doesn’t want to.

The second he lays his eyes on your crumpled on the floor figure, his heart completely breaks. Instantly, he kneels down in front of you and embraces you in his arms while your sobs make him hate himself even more.

“I’m so unbelievable sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean it like that at all. It’s just that in my world, there’s only you and no one else. I never understood how you even get the idea of me liking another woman because this scenario is ridiculous to me. I shouldn’t have lashed out on you like that. I’m so so sorry…”, he mumbles against your ear.

Despite his words still haunt your mind, you can’t help but let yourself fall at least a little into his inviting arms, tears staining his uniform.

“I will talk to her and make clear that you are the one and only for me, I promise.”

It’s impossible to stay mad at him for long. You wrap your longing arms around him, forehead pressed against his.

“So you understand my point?”, you mutter.

“I do and I’m sorry for making you feel this way. You are the only woman in my life and I love you more than anything else”, he reassures you once again.

You definitely won’t get him away this easily. After all, words mean nothing without action. But this is a step in the right direction and for now, you can definitely live with that.

“Now, please stop crying, I’ll call her right away and we’ll watch your favorite show and order some food after, what do you think?”

“Only if you pay”, you sniff.

Megumi Fushiguro

“Oh, where are you going?”, you question when your boyfriend Megumi gets up from the bed so early in the morning that it’s still dark outside.

The last few weeks were like a trip to hell and back, it seems like your relationship consists of Megumi going on missions while you have to stay behind. Before this night, you haven’t seen him for one whole week and while you do understand his responsibly as a jujutsu sorcerer, you can’t help but feel hurt.

“On a mission of course”, he remarks dryly.

Your eyes begin to burn as your heart sinks. It’s like you don’t know him anymore, as if he’s only the shell of the man you used to love. Is he so sick of you that he doesn’t want to spend a single day on your side? Is all of this on purpose? You can’t hold back any longer.

“You’re always leaving me”, you blurt out.

It shouldn’t bother you. After all, you’re a jujutsu sorcerer yourself. Despite being Shoko’s trainee you should be aware of the fact that this job is a mess and means you have to dedicate your whole life to it.

But still you can’t help but fell hurt. Hurt because your boyfriend doesn’t even smile anymore when he returns, hurt because he comes and goes without saying a word, hurt because you feel like you lost him.

“What was that?”, he grumbles.

“Do you think I do this on purpose?”

“I just feel like you’re never here. And I miss you.”

“Not all of us have an easy job like you, (y/n).”

You swallow hard. Wow, that is new. And extremely painful. Even though you aren’t out there fighting, you still have a lot to do, working your ass off so everyone survives, day and night ready if something happens. This is just not fair.

“You think my job is easy? Stitch yourself up next time, then”, you hiss and cross your arms over your chest.

“Don’t come at me. You started this whole thing!”

“Yeah, I ‘started this whole thing’ because you are my boyfriend and I love you, and I…I fucking miss you! But fine, if you don’t feel the same I’ll just leave.”

It’s ridiculous and you know it, mind screaming violently, begging you to stay. But your heart can’t. This was simply too much. You can’t stay here with a boy that treats you like this.

“If you leave now-“

“Then what?”, you interrupt him immediately, cold eyes glaring at him while your hand rests on the door.

“You’ll leave? You leave every time, Megumi. See you around…Or not.”

And with that, you leave him standing in his room alone, staring at the door like an idiot. What the hell has gotten into you? Since when are you acting up like that? He doesn’t know you like that. But still, your words do make him wonder if you’re somehow right…

He shakes his head violently. No, you’re being ridiculous. Maybe you need to sleep in and you’ll figure this out as soon as he returns.

But one things for sure: Megumi definitely won’t make the first move.

And so days pass until finally weeks begin to pass without both of you saying a single word to each other. Every time you see him you feel like dying inside, heart screaming at you in agony to stop your stubbornness, to approach him and say sorry. But you can’t. You simply can’t over the fact that he let you go like that, not even looking your direction when you cross each other. It’s like he doesn’t know you anymore despite all the nights you shared with each other, despite the intimate moments you’ve had.

No, it seems like he doesn’t care at all.

“Hey (y/n)!”, Nobara greets you.

“Hey, I’m in a bit of a rush”, you explain briefly, already on your way to assist Shoko in an autopsy of a curse.

“It’s just…(y/n), are you and Megumi okay?”, Nobara mutters, her face twisted in concern like you’ve never seen before.

You stop in your tracks, a new wave of grief washing over you. No, nothing is okay, absolutely nothing to be exact. You want to scream it into her face, break down crying, let all your feelings out. But instead, you just gift her an empty smile and say:

“Sure.”

‘Sure’ as if he never raised his voice at you, ‘sure’ as if Megumi would care about you feeling lonely and missing him, ‘sure’ as if you actually meant something to him

“I mean it’s none of my business but…You guys haven’t talk for what feels like an eternity, you are no longer there and I’m just worried that he messed things up with you, y’know…Well, let me know if I can help you with something, okay?”

She gently places her hand on your shoulder while you have to force yourself to not shed a tear. Oh, if she only knew. If she only knew that the last weeks were absolute hell, that you feel like dying inside. But this is something you and Megumi have to deal with alone. Even Nobara can’t help you with that.

You say goodbye to her and walk towards the laboratory, tears still stinging threatening in your eyes. How much you long for talking to him, to tell him how much his words really hurt you. But you can’t bring yourself to make the first step. After all, you tried to talk this out multiple times only for him to not even listen. No, this time he’ll have to make the first move if he wants you back.

If…

“(y/n).”

That voice. That oh so familiar voice that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Megumi”, you breathe out, slowly turning around to face him.

There he stands, scratching his head while looking at your feet, eyes not meeting your gaze.

“How…how you’ve been?”

Even a blind man would see the blush creeping up his face…Is he embarrassed? Painfully awkward silence hangs between you two as all you can do is stare at him, your blood slowly but surely boiling up. Is he really asking you how you’ve been after not talking to you for weeks, ignoring you every time he saw you?

“You have some fucking nerves”, you spit at him, closing the gap between you two with a rushed movement.

“You’re not talking with me for weeks and now you’re asking how I’ve been? I’ve been miserable, Megumi. I felt like dying every time you ignored me!”

Fuck, don’t cry. Don’t let him see how you really feel. Your trembling hands frantically wipe away the threatening tears, eyes darted towards him.

“I just couldn’t, (y/n). It’s just…I…”, he stumbles over his very own words, fingers over and over running through his hair.

“I was able to see it until I thought about it. I’ve been a horrible boyfriend, (y/n). So horrible that I thought you’d be better off without me. But I’m simply too selfish to let you go. I’m sorry for not making time for you, I’m sorry for treating you like shit, I’m sorry for making you feel like I didn’t love you when in reality, all I was able to think about was you and how much I missed you sleeping besides me”, he suddenly blurts out, leaving you completely speechless.

This is everything. Everything you longed for, ever single word you graved so deeply. Did this thick silence really change the way he sees your relationship now? A look into his sorrow – filled eyes is enough to realize that he’s telling the truth, making your heart jump up and down.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Because I know I’m not the boy you deserve and I’d fully understand if you’re having enough of me. I just wanted to let you know that I can see it now and that I want to give you what you deserve if you let me.”

The glistening in his eyes literally begs you for a second chance while your very own heart screams at you. Of course you want him back, Megumi is everything you ever wanted. But he’ll have to show that it’s really different this time.

“Promise me something”, you announce.

He tilts his head to his side, brows furrowed in confusion.

“What?”

“Promise me you’ll stay with me today, that we’ll spend time together. No mission, no obligations.”

“I’ll stay as long as you need, as long as you want me around, (y/n). This time without you hurt like hell, I simply don’t want to let you go again”, he hushes, his tender fingertips brushing over your arms.

“That sounds good…”, you mutter, resting your head against his chest.

God, how much you missed that feeling. Even though your relationship had its ups and downs, you always admired the way Megumi was able to calm you down in an instant with a simple touch of his hand.

Maybe you will figure it out now. And maybe him not having time for you stays in the past forever.

Kento Nanami

“Fuck”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

You’re on your way home after a pretty ugly mission. And even though Shoko already stitched you up, you feel like dying. Everything just hurts, it’s hard to even walk.

The thought of your husband at home makes your guts turn. Not because you don’t love him or aren’t longing to see him, but because of your recent conversation.

“It can’t go on like this, (y/n). You’re always injured and it’s starting to concern me. Maybe I have to talk t-“

“No”, you interrupted him immediately.

“Please don’t. I’ll be careful from now on. I promise.”

“Fine. But if this happens again, I’ll have a talk with the elders.”

And it happened again. All these missions one after another really took their toll on your concentration. One moment of unwariness was enough to sweep you off your feet, thigh sliced open in the nastiest way you’ve ever seen. Shoko told you it will take some time to heal entirely, but if Kento gets to see this…

“Maybe I should call Nanami to pick you up. You really can’t walk like that (y/n).”

“No, please don’t!”, you begged Shoko for dear life.

“I don’t want this to cause trouble. It’s fine, really!”

“You almost died, (y/n)”, she remembered you dryly.

“And I will definitely die if you tell him. Please Shoko.”

She signed.

“Fine. Just be careful and visit me tomorrow…”

You swallow. A fight seems inevitable if you won’t hide your wound from him.

You take a deep breath, keys trembling in your sweaty palms. Fuck, why does this have to ache so badly? Shoko gave so some pain killers, you shouldn’t feel a single thing.

No, focus. Pain is only in your head. But Kento is very real.

With one last stolen glance at your injured leg you open the door, forcing a smile on your face. Where is he? Your heart beats out of your chest, hands so sweaty that you have to wipe them on your coat.

“Kento?”, you shout into the quiet living room, closing the door behind you gently.

“There you are, sweetheart”, his voice coos out of the bedroom.

Your breath hitches, eyes wide open at the sight in front of you. There he stands, your loving husband. Dressed in nothing but his pants, bare chest immediately captivating you. Oh god, he looks so delicious that you feel like fainting, hungry eyes roaming over his tight muscles as if you haven’t seen him like that hundreds of times before.

“Where have you been? A mission like that shouldn’t take this long.”

He begins to approach you elegantly, staring at you with a small smile on his delicate lips.

“Y-yeah…Still had something to…y’know…say…to Shoko”, you stutter.

Why does he have to look so absolutely delicious? And why does your leg suddenly feel so…wet?

“Are you alright? You seem a little unfocused today. Did you get hurt?”

His eyes scan over your body without any mercy, forcing you to hide your leg behind the other.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine”, you press out.

No, you’re anything but fine. The way your other leg brushes against your injured one makes you see stars. You feel like fainting and throwing up at the same time, sweat running down your forehead uncontrollably. You need medication – now.

“I planned something very excited for us today. Something you might like”, he purrs, closing the distance between your bodies.

His hand grabs your waist passionately while your mixed emotions take your breath away. God, how much you love the way his arms wrap themselves around you, knowing exactly that this leads you directly into the bedroom.

But that means…

“Oh yeah?”, you chuckle nervously.

That means he’ll see the wound you’re so desperately trying to hide.

“Absolutely”, he breathes against your ear.

Oh god, this is so good…No, it’s not good at all. You need to get away from him, out of this misery, into t-

A toe-curling scream escapes your lips before you even realize what is happening, body stumbling backwards.

“(y/n)!”, Nanami mutters, eyes wide open.

He squeezed your leg like he always does and just the way you like it. Why on earth are you acting like that? That haunted look on your face almost makes it seem as if he hurt you.

Lost in thoughts, he looks down at his hand.

His blood-smeared hand.

It slowly dawns to him. No, it isn’t because he did something you don’t like. It’s because you’re injured again. And you decided to lie into his face about it.

“What is this?”

Your husband’s voice sounds as unpromising as you imagined it in this situation, eyes widen in horror while you’re still panting in agony.

Fuck. Your heart drops immediately by the sight of his blood smeared hand. Kento is an outstanding smart man, too clever to be considered an idiot by your actions.

“You promised me to stay safe. And that you lie to be about being injured...”

“(y/n), look at me”, he insists, grabbing your chin.

His eyes seem to stare right through your soul as he glances down at you, jaw tightened.

“I can’t believe you lied to me.”

“Only because you’d freak out”, you reply in your own defense.

“Like I should! I told you over and over to look out for yourself, to skip a few missions before you get seriously hurt. And what is that, huh?”

He points at your wounded leg, blood now soaking through the fabric of your skirt.

“You are severely injured. Just like I predicted.”

You feel like a child being scolded by her parents. Even though Kento never raises his voice at you aggressively, you can tell by the way his whole body tenses up and that glistening in his gaze that he’s absolutely furious.

“I am able to look after myself. I know what’s best for me”, you remark annoyed.

Fuck, you’re so damn tired. All you want is to bandage yourself up and go to sleep.

“Yes, I can see that.”

Something about his sarcastic tone and the way he stares down at you while shaking his head makes you snap.

“I’m a grown woman, I don’t need you to look after me like a damn child! Mind your own business, Kento!”

“You are my business. You are my wife. It’s my responsibility to take care of you!”, he barks back.

“But I don’t want you to take care of me, I want you to leave me alone!”, you spit into his face, making him drop his shoulders immediately.

God, you want to take that back straightaway, knowing damn well how your comment hurt his feelings. But at the moment, all you can think about is a warm bed and finally some rest.

You drag yourself into the bedroom and let your trembling body fall onto the mattress. This is not fair, right? After all, you aren’t a child anymore, you are able to look after yourself…right?

You close your eyes, the disappointed look on Kento’s face lingering through your mind. It wasn’t fair to snap at him, though. He is your husband, always caring about you. No, he certainly doesn’t deserve you to treat him like this.

Three soft knocks on the door.

“Can I come in?”, his damped voice questions.

“Sure”, you mumble.

You can’t even look at him when he enters the room in silence, elegant steps leading him to the bed where he sits down next to you. Suddenly, he begins to rip open a package of bandages, catching your attention.

“What are you doing?”

“I take care of you. May I?”

His gaze wanders to your skirt, eyes asking you for permission to pull it up.

“Sure…”, you mutter, a slight blush creeping up your face when his fingers brush over your panties.

“How did this happen?”, he asks softly while his skilled fingers remove the blood soaked bandage.

“I don’t know exactly. Wasn’t paying full attention and got hit by a curse.”

“I see.”

Despite all the things you said to him, despite the way you hurt him a few minutes ago, your man kneels in front of you and caresses your wound with so much affection that it doesn’t hurt at all. Your eyes wander over him, how his gaze is focused exclusively on your thigh, skilled fingers working wonders.

“I’m sorry for lashing out and not telling you”, you let out, not able to hold in your bad conscience any longer.

“I understand that I put you in an uncomfortable position when I threatened to talk to the elders about this and I’m very sorry for that. But it can’t go on like this, (y/n). This is the 5th serious injury within three weeks and I’m truly worried about you. I don’t want you to end like-“

He stops himself from finishing that sentence but oh you know exactly what he means and it shatters your heart. Without hesitation, your fingers grab his face gently, eyes locking with yours.

“I love you, Kento. And I see that you’re right. I’ll talk to the elders tomorrow myself about that”, you assure him.

A small but precious smile appears on his face, free hand caressing your cheek with so much affection that you have to hold back a tear.

“You’re my everything, sweetheart. Let’s stitch you up and go to bed.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk men #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo jjk #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo saturo #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #jujustu kaisen #satoru gojo #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #kento x reader

[sluttywonwoo]

they wanna (fuck)

pairing: joshua hong x f reader x vernon chwe

summary: your boyfriend joshua wants to explore something new with you… and his best friend

warnings: swearing, smut (18+ ; mdni)

smut warnings: threesome/cuckolding adjacent, oral (f receiving), protected and unprotected sex, choking

word count: 3.2k

your boyfriend grew up an only child. he’s not the best at sharing. which is why it surprised you more than a little bit when he suggested letting one of his best friends fuck you.

it wasn’t like you were opposed to the idea, you just didn’t think he was serious. you thought it might be a test. but it wasn’t.

“why vernon?” you’d asked.

“he’s got a thing for you,” joshua said, shrugging like it was no big deal.

“and he told you this?”

“nah, just caught him looking at your ass a bunch of times.”

“and have you asked him about this?”

“i was going to bring it up the next time i see him.”

“oh my god, he doesn’t even know?”

joshua scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “well, of course i’d bring it up to you first! it’s your vagina!”

“you’re unbelievable.”

“look, do you want to fuck him or not?”

-

you did want to fuck vernon. it wasn’t like it was a fantasy of yours or even something you’d dwelled on beyond a passing thought, but the man was certainly easy on the eyes and the way he carried himself made you wonder about… things how big it was.

joshua didn’t tell you exactly how the conversation went down. he just told you that vernon was “extremely down” for it, and that they planned for a time when all three of you were free.

“but why do you want me to fuck one of your friends?”

his cheeks turned pink. “um, it’s kind of a possessive thing, i think.”

“what? how does that work?”

“i just think it’d be hot to watch someone fuck you knowing that i get to have you all the time. i’m letting them have a taste but they’ll never get to experience you the same way i will… never get to make you feel the way i do.”

it was your turn to be flustered.

joshua peeked at your reaction. “is that… bad?” he asked nervously.

you shook your head. “no, not bad at all.”

he breathed a sigh of relief. “okay, good. good.”

-

when the day actually rolled around, you could tell joshua was having second thoughts. he kept himself busy all morning, cleaning the kitchen, doing laundry, organizing and reorganizing your shared record collection (they’re chronological now)…

“we don’t have to do this,” you reminded him.

“i know. i want to, though,” he assured you. “i’m just nervous about what it will be like to see you with someone else…” he trailed off but you knew what he was implying. he was afraid his jealousy would get the better of him.

you rubbed his back comfortingly as you listened. “well, we can stop at any time.”

he nodded and took your hand, squeezing it once. “the same goes for you, you know.”

you checked the clock. “shouldn’t he be here by now?”

“have you ever known vernon to be on time?”

“fair enough.”

he gets there around fifteen minutes later, looking just as nervous as your boyfriend. maybe even more so. but once joshua goes over the arrangement again and everyone starts taking their clothes off, they both seem a lot more relaxed.

“you can kiss her, you know,” joshua murmurs from his side of the room, apparently dissatisfied with the pace of things. “as long as you don’t leave any marks.”

“is that ok?” vernon asks you.

“yeah, kiss me,” you encourage, pulling him by the shoulders until his nose is just inches from yours.

he closes his eyes and leans in, meeting you halfway. it’s a weird feeling, kissing someone who isn’t your boyfriend, but it isn’t bad. embers of excitement from the unfamiliarity of it all are quick to spark between you, quelling the anxiety and igniting something carnal inside you both. vernon’s the first to use tongue, much to your surprise. a startled moan leaves your lips as he slips his tongue between them.

you’re not sure how much time passes before he pulls away but when he does you’re taken aback by his appearance. your boyfriend’s best friend, always so reserved and quiet, looks like a completely different person.

vernon’s always been handsome of course, but you’ve never looked at him like you’re looking at him now.

he looks almost vampiric, pale skin glowing in the dim light of the table lamps lit on your nightstands. his cheeks are flushed pink with heat and his lips are a little swollen from kissing you so deeply.

“can i touch you too?” he asks, breathless.

“yes, please,” you gasp, “please touch me.”

his hand slides down between your bodies to where your legs are already spread for him. you’d be embarrassed about how eager you are for another man in front of your boyfriend if he wasn’t currently watching the two of you while he palmed himself over his boxers.

everyone had just undressed to their underwear so no one’s naked yet but vernon appears to be intent on changing that for you. he pulls your panties to the side, exposing you to both him and joshua as he pushes a finger inside of you.

your grab on to him for stability, head falling slack against his shoulder.

“add another one, she likes the stretch,” joshua advises.

vernon stiffens a bit— you can’t tell whether it’s from annoyance at being told what to do instead of being allowed to figure it out himself, or if it’s because he had forgotten your boyfriend was still there altogether, but he does what he’s told nonetheless.

the effect is immediate. you moan, maybe a little too loud, and try to muffle yourself in vernon’s shoulder. your first instinct is to bite him, because that’s what you do with joshua when things start feeling intense, but you don’t know him like that. you don’t know if it’s something he’s into. still, your grip around his bicep tightens as he continues to finger you, nails threatening to dig into his skin.

“you can mark me up,” he tells you with a smirk, like he can read your mind. “i don’t mind.”

you take him at his word, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. he moans at the feeling and it’s only then that you realize you could be touching him too. you reach for him but before you can get your hand on him he leans back to look at joshua.

“can i eat her out?”

your boyfriend considers his friend’s request for a moment before answering.

“yes, but she can’t suck you off.”

you wilt a bit but you know joshua didn’t make that rule to punish you. he was already sharing so much of you by exploring this kink that you can’t blame him for wanting to keep part of you for himself. you’re honestly surprised he’s letting vernon go down on you in the first place.

vernon tsks. “i don’t care about that, i just want to taste her. lay back for me, baby.”

you do, but not before scooting up the bed so that vernon can comfortably lay on his stomach between your legs. joshua comes to your side and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“how’re you doing, baby?”

“good,” you say through a hazy smile.

“yeah? his fingers feel good?”

“mhm…”

“i bet his mouth will too.”

you can see how hard joshua is through his boxers, can see the small dark spot where precum had seeped through the fabric. you’re relieved to know he’s enjoying it just as much as you are— maybe more. you long to touch him too. you try to, but he steps just out of reach. is no one going to let you jerk them off tonight?

you’re distracted by vernon again before you can protest.

“let’s get these off of you,” he murmurs, tugging at the elastic of your panties.

you lift up so he can slide them down your legs. he gets them off in record time and shoulders himself between your thighs, kissing his way up to your pussy. first your knee, then your inner thigh, then the crux of your hip.

“not too much now,” joshua warns from his corner.

you roll your eyes. “shua…”

“what! i’m just reminding him not to get too comfortable!”

“that’s fair,” vernon interjects. “sorry.”

joshua mumbles something else but neither you or his best friend catch it because vernon had already buried his face in your cunt.

“oh, fuck,” you gasp, hands flying to his hair.

he’s eager for it, that much is clear. he only sucks on your clit for a couple of seconds before going straight to tongue-fucking you, as if that had been his goal this whole time. you figure he must feel like he has something to prove— or he just really likes eating pussy.

it’s good. he’s good. too good. he’s not better at it than joshua, but he is about to make you cum in a few seconds flat which is a problem because you never cum that fast with your boyfriend.

it’s probably a mixture of vernon’s aggressive technique and how hot you find this whole arrangement to be but you still don’t want it to make joshua feel some type of way so you try your best to hold off a little longer.

you conjure up sad thoughts, try thinking about all the chores you need to do, all the things you’ve heard men do when they try and stave off an orgasm but you know you’re fighting a losing battle.

“already, baby?” joshua muses, drawing your attention to him again.

he’s degrading you like he normally would in bed but you can tell he’s at least a little pissed off from the way his eyes are wider than usual.

“is he that good?”

you shake your head adamantly, fumbling for words. “n-no! i mean he’s good but uh, i don’t-”

between your legs, you can feel vernon smirking against you. you want to smack him but you can’t feel your arms anymore.

joshua scoffs in disbelief and tongues his cheek as you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out. always the gentleman, though, he leans down and offers you his hand for you to anchor yourself as you cum.

"you're not a very good liar, angel," is all he says as you give up on fighting it and let it hit you. you squeeze his hand hard, back arching off the mattress, pushing your hips further into vernon's face.

vernon doesn't stop until your body goes slack and joshua doesn't let go of your hand until vernon stops.

they let you catch your breath before either of them speaks again. vernon is still grinning as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. he's dripping with you but he doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, going as far as to lick the remnants of you from his fingers as if he hadn't just had his head between your thighs less than a minute ago.

"she tastes so fucking good," he murmurs.

"i know," your boyfriend mutters.

"lucky bastard."

joshua turns his attention to you, expression softening when he sees how dazed you look. “you okay, baby?”

you nod with a smile. “mhm.”

“do you want to keep going? do you need a break?”

“wanna keep going,” you say as you prop yourself up on your elbows and look between the two of them. “if you guys do, obviously.”

“fuck yeah,” vernon exhales, making you and your boyfriend laugh.

“you brought condoms, right?” joshua asks.

you and joshua don’t use condoms anymore so you didn’t have any on hand. the two of you debated picking some up beforehand but joshua wasn’t sure what size to get so he just told vernon to bring some himself. problem solved.

“uh yeah,” vernon answers, grabbing his jeans off the floor and fishing a handful of them from one of the pockets. “i didn’t know how many to bring,” he says sheepishly.

“if we don’t use them all today, we can save them for another time,” you assure him.

joshua and vernon react at the same time. “another time?!”

“like if this goes well, right?”

joshua pretends to be annoyed but you can see the little smile that he tries to hide behind his hand, secretly pleased that you're enjoying this as much as he is.

vernon's quick to get the condom on and his boxers off, ripping the packet open with his teeth and rolling the latex down to the base of his cock.

he isn't longer than joshua but he is thicker. he's really thick, actually. your mouth waters at the sight and you clench around nothing, feeling even more hollow than you had when he first took his fingers out of you.

"she's got a bit of a size kink," joshua informs his friend, following your gaze to his dick.

"that's not true!" you protest.

"it's a little true," joshua insists.

vernon just grins. he clearly doesn't care about the truth, whatever it is. he's just happy to know you like what you see.

"josh, what position do you want me in?" vernon asks.

joshua doesn't even have to think about it. "either from behind or tabletop. regular missionary is too intimate."

you have to agree. even though it feels incredible, you wouldn't want to experience that with anyone but joshua.

"do you have a preference?" vernon asks you.

"let's do tabletop," you decide. "i want to see you."

"i was hoping you would say that," he admits. "we can switch positions later on if you want."

"you think you'll last that long?" you tease, reaching out to stroke him once or twice just to see him react.

vernon hisses and jerks away from you, cock twitching against his stomach. "good point," he grits out, "we'll cross that bridge if we get to it."

he gets up off the bed and walks around to the foot of it, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling until you're flush with his hips.

"damn dude," joshua says under his breath.

vernon ignores your boyfriend's comment even though he's blushing, choosing to put his full focus on you instead. you're already squirming beneath him, desperate to feel him for the first time.

"are you ready?"

"yes."

"are you sure?"

"god, vernon, if you don't put it in alr-"

the threat works. he pushes himself inside of you in one go, face scrunching up as he fists the sheets beside your head to steel himself.

"god damn it," he chokes out, legs trembling. it sounds suspiciously like a sob but you're too busy trying to adjust to his size to call him on it. "fuck, how do you feel so good?"

"it's insane, right?" joshua gloats. "she's perfect."

"it's not fair..." vernon whines, mostly to himself.

"how does he feel, baby?" joshua asks you, coming close and petting your hair again. he then wipes the tears from the corners of your eyes and then presses the same fingers against your mouth, the salt stinging your swollen lips.

"he f-feels good." your answer comes out muffled against his hand but it seems to satisfy your boyfriend and your lover nonetheless.

he feels better than just good, he feels fucking incredible. the stretch is so intense you feel like you're about to be split in half but you aren't able to articulate that with how overwhelmed you are.

vernon gathers himself eventually but it takes several deep breaths and what sounds like a prayer for strength before he continues.

"can i move?" he asks you, the request bordering on begging.

"yeah, please. please fuck me."

he gives a couple of experimental thrusts before building up to a steady rhythm, each one feeling better than the last. you're so wet that the glide of him inside of you is almost too easy but there's still a bit of resistance due to how thick he is.

"how do you like it?" he grunts, "fast, slow?"

"th-this is good," you say.

"rub her clit," joshua adds.

"i was getting to that," vernon mutters.

he slows down and snakes a hand between your legs, feeling around for it until he feels you tighten up around him.

"there we go," he whispers gently, repeating the pattern he remembers you liking the most.

"you're so fucking pretty, baby," you hear joshua say, making you reach out for him in search of his hand. he gives it to you immediately, squeezing affectionately and encouraging you to do the same. you always held hands during sex. it was a way you were able to anchor yourself to him, squeezing his palm whenever something felt particularly intense. it was comforting to have that translate here as well.

"i love you," he says, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

a profession of love while another man is inside of you is a little strange, all things considered, but it still makes you melt.

"i love you too," you reply, before remembering the aforementioned other man inside of you. "sorry, is this turning you off?"

he doesn't even look fazed by it. "nah, it's fine. she got so fucking tight when you told her you loved her."

joshua smirks. "wanna know what else makes her tight?"

"what?"

your boyfriend lets go of your hand, promising to come back, and rounds the bed to whisper something in his best friend's ear. vernon's eyes get wide and his hips stop moving.

"for real?"

joshua just nods as he takes his place by your side again, offering you an innocent smile that you don't buy at all.

vernon exhales harshly and shakes his head like he has to psych himself up for whatever he's about to do or say, which makes sense when he leans forward and wraps a hand around your throat.

you gasp in surprise but clench around him almost immediately, just like joshua said you would. he only applies a little bit of pressure but it's enough to have the desired effect.

vernon curses and stutters forward, eliciting what sounds like a whimper as he struggles to get his other hand back between your legs.

"told you."

"i'm not going to last," vernon stammers, looking away from his best friend in embarrassment.

"you can cum whenever you want."

"but sh-she hasn't yet..."

"i'll take care of that, don't worry," joshua assures him. "you made her cum on your face already, remember?"

"but i, i... fuck," his voice breaks off into a whine, the rest of the sentence dissolving on his tongue. it's like he can't stop fucking you, can't even slow down, even though he doesn't want to cum yet.

"come on, give it to me," you sigh out.

he gives in finally, practically collapsing on top of you as he cums into the condom. he weakly thrusts himself through it, kissing you to swallow the noises he's making.

he's still twitching inside of you when he catches his breath.

"sorry, i'm sorry," he breathes. "i didn't mean to-"

"baby, it's fine," you tell him earnestly. "we wanted you to feel good."

he pouts but nods like he understands and pulls out with a groan.

"and like i said," joshua interjects, patting his friend on the back as he trades places with him and notches the head of his cock inside of you. when he took his underwear off, you have no idea, but you can't bring yourself to care when he bottoms out and offers you his hand one last time. "i'll take care of the rest."

#we don't fuck with kim petras in this house but the title was too good to pass up #like cmon la and new york boys #they wanna (fuck) #seventeen smut #svt smut #joshua smut #joshua hong smut #vernon smut #vernon chwe smut #hong jisoo smut #chwe hansol smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen x female reader #joshua hong x reader #vernon chwe x reader

[stylesloveclub]

sunshine (making out blurb)

first blurb for grumpyrry x sunshine virgin y/n!!!

sunshine masterlist

+++

Y/n’s math homework is always a little less horrible when she’s doing it with Harry.

When it’s just her doing calculus by herself, it’s miserable. She gets stressed out as soon as she gets a problem wrong, overwhelmed by all the weird symbols and shortcuts that she doesn’t know. Calculus is just so stupidly hard! She usually has to spend an hour just reading the textbook and finding videos to help her understand whatever they just learned in class… until she eventually gives up and goes to bed. 

It’s different with Harry though. There’s something about the way he explains things to her that just makes it make sense. She’s told him time and time again that he should be the one up there teaching the class instead of her stupid professor. He makes math easy. A big part of it might be because he’s right there to catch her mistakes and answer her questions if she gets stuck, but also he’s just a really good teacher. He breaks concepts down for her in a way that isn’t all complicated and math-y, but like a fun little puzzle. And if she doesn’t get it, he’ll do the problem right in front of her, explaining every step and pausing to make sure she gets it. He’s patient and motivating, and pushes her to solve problems by herself, even if she’s scared that she’ll do it wrong. 

Plus, he gives her a nice little kiss as a reward every time she solves a question right, so you best believe she’s not giving up until she gets every damn question in that textbook right! 

“Good job sunshine,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. 

They’re sitting thigh to thigh on her bed, y/n’s ipad in her lap and her textbook right in front of her criss-crossed legs. She’s in a cutsie little pajama set, matching white pj shorts and a tiny tank top with little roses printed all over it. Harry sits with his legs spread out in front of him, with one of his hands gently resting on her back as he leans over her shoulder and checks her work. She smiles cutely, the apples of her cheeks rounding out as Harry’s pink lips pucker against her cheek as a reward. Not only does she feel proud of herself for getting the math right, but she also feels her heart do a backflip every time Harry gives her a kiss. Who knew doing her math homework could be so fun! 

She flips her pencil around in her fingers, turning her head to the side so she can get a proper reward. Kisses on the cheek are good motivation for when she’s struggling and she needs a little something to keep her going through a hard problem… but she got this one right. Her eyes meet his bright green ones, which are glimmering softly. He’s already smiling at her, his thumb tracing soft little circles on her back, and he doesn’t deny her when she leans in for a soft, sweet, and innocent kiss on the lips. In fact, when she tries to pull away from her soft little peck, he follows her forward, refusing to disconnect their lips until he gets a few more kisses in. 

It makes her giggle against his lips, pushing on his shoulders. “I only have one more,” she says, not wanting to get distracted when she’s so close to being done.

The dimple in his cheek deepens, and he stares at her softly. His eyes are so intense, as if he’s looking straight into her heart, as if he’s trying to see into the depth of her soul so he can really understand her. They flicker back and forth between hers, filled with just pure adoration. “If you get this last one right, I have a surprise for you,” he whispers mischievously.

Y/n’s eyes widen, a flash of excitement flickering over her irises. “What?” she asks eagerly, her hands landing on his thigh.

His lips twist in an impish smile, and he nods towards her homework. “Do it and you’ll see.”

She gets it right in one try, zero questions asked. It seems like kisses and little surprises are really all it takes to teach y/n math. She’s looking back at him with giddy eyes, basking as he gives her one last kiss for doing her homework correctly. “Go look in my bag,” he mumbles against her lips, one of his hands coming up to tuck her hair behind her ear. She pulls away from him, giving him a suspicious look with squinted eyes and pursed lips, but he just smiles and nods his chin towards his bag.

She gets up and cautiously approaches, peeking back at him nervously. All he does is smile, leaning back onto her pillows and putting his hands behind his back. She unzips his bag, and inside of it… 

“Oh,” y/n’s eyes round out as soon as she sees it. “Harry,” she whimpers, turning around to face him with a pout. Inside of his bag is the cutest pink stuffed elephant, with a little elephant nose that makes y/n want to cry. The elephant has animated eyes and big floppy ears, and it’s soft and fuzzy and just makes her heart melt because it’s so her and it’s so Girl and her grumpy boyfriend just knows her so well!!! She picks up the elephant and runs over to her bed with it and she gets extra excited when she sees how perfectly her new friend fits in with the rest of her pink stuffies and pillows. She climbs straight on top of Harry, putting the elephant next to her worn out stuffed bunny, and throws her arms around his shoulders. 

“Thank you, I love it, it’s so cute,” she babbles, burying her face in his neck. She’s almost getting emotional because there’s absolutely no occasion for him to be getting her gifts, her voice getting a little high pitched and wobbly. Harry smiles like it’s no big deal, his hand petting her hair softly as he chuckles softly. “What’s it for?” she asks, pulling away and looking at him with big round eyes.

He shrugs. “Saw it when I was out last night. Thought you would like it.” 

She stares at him with that endearing little pout, not knowing what to do except to lean in and kiss him. She puts her hands on his face, her fingers cupping his and his smiling cheeks pressed against her palms, and pulls him forward so she can press her lips against his. 

His lips struggle to kiss her back with how big he’s smiling, so in awe of her and how cute she is, but he manages to rest a hand on her hip and pucker his lips against hers. Her hands slide down to hold onto his shoulders, and her fingers twist in his shirt as their lips fold over each other. She loves kissing him, she really does. Whenever she flutters her eyes shut and presses her lips against his, all her worries melt away. Her shoulders relax and her mind goes blank. Harry brings up a hand to cup her jaw, and his thumb traces over her cheekbone softly, just feeling her delicate skin. 

They haven’t gone any further than these innocent kisses so far, except for that first time in his room, when he’d turned what should have been her romantic first kiss into an impromptu makeout sesh. He felt horrible when he found out that he’d tried to casually hook up with her when she hadn’t even had her first kiss! And absolutely sick to his stomach when he realized he’d been her first kiss, and that he had fucked it all up! 

A sweet little sunshine girl like her deserved to have the first kiss of her dreams, he mourned. At a moonlit picnic or in a garden of roses. And he’d given her the worst first kiss. He literally made her cry. 

Since then, there have been plenty of better, sweeter, more romantic kisses, to make up for that teensy little blip of a first kiss – kisses on her front doorstep after the most magical first date, kisses at the park underneath the cherry blossom trees, goodnight kisses in her bed before he tucks her in and heads home for the night. But nothing more than that.

Tonight though… he’s tempted to try a little something more. 

He kisses her lips one final time before pulling away with a soft click, his hand still gently cupping her jaw. His eyes slowly open, and he finds his sunshine already looking right back at him, her eyes wide and moony. Her lips are parted, so soft and delicate and kissable, and she blinks innocently. She’s so cute, so reactive and eager. She’s staring at him like he just gave her the world with that little kiss. 

His fingers trace down from her cheek to her lips, and then to her jawline. With the softest nudge he tilts her head to the side, then brushes her hair off to the side to expose her neck. When his lips skim the sensitive skin right above her pulse point, her breath catches in her throat. Her grip on his shirt tightens, and her thighs tense from where she’s sitting atop him, straddling his hips. 

His lips press against her neck so softly, the most delicate kiss he’s ever pressed against her skin. His eyes flutter shut and he just lingers there, inhaling deeply. She smells like vanilla and sugar cookies. She makes his heart pound and his head spin. His hand on her hip holds on tighter, his fingers dimpling her soft skin as he starts to press more kisses up her neck and around her jawline. 

Y/n’s eyes flutter shut and she tries to regulate her breathing, but her breaths are short and shaky and she can’t think straight. Harry’s breathing sends shivers down her spine, tickling her ear every time he exhales. His cotton candy lips tickle her throat and press down in hot, slow, gentle kisses. She swallows thickly and tries to hold down all the noises that want to escape her, but somehow a breathy moan leaves her lips. She feels herself grow hot and she’s not sure if it’s embarrassment at how weak she sounds, or if she’s just getting all hot from how Harry’s tongue just darted out to lightly tease her neck. 

Harry smiles to himself lightly, deciding to test the waters and suck a little bit at her neck. He forgets, sometimes, just how innocent and inexperienced his angel of a girlfriend is. She gets worked up easily and is so responsive to his touch. Even the lightest of kisses against her throat have her whimpering and floating in another world. He loves it. He can sense how antsy she’s getting now, how she’s shuffling around on his lap and fisting at his shirt. She hopes he can’t tell how sweaty her palms have gotten, and she’d actually die if she knew that he could feel her clenching around nothing through her tiny sleep shorts.

He doesn’t spend too much time on her neck, not wanting to leave any marks without her permission, instead sliding his fingers into her hair and tilting her head down again so it’s no longer thrown back. She lets him maneuver her easily, opening her eyes, her chest rising and falling heavily. Her eyebrows pinch together as she briefly looks down at his lips, longingly. She tries to get ahold of herself, but just a few seconds of him loving on her neck have sent her into a spiral. She’s so sensitive, so reactive – she jumps when his hand migrates to her thigh, goosebumps rising as he rubs up and down her bare leg. 

Harry’s eyes are warm and fond as he just stares at her– her pretty eyes and her delicate eyelashes, her lips, her cheeks, her smile. He tries not to linger too much on how cute she looks in her pajamas, how the low neckline accentuates her neck and her collarbones or how the thin material fails to conceal her peaked nipples. If he thinks about it too hard, he’ll get hard. And he doesn’t want that yet, doesn’t want to overwhelm his sweet, pure, innocent sunshine with his horny thoughts. 

He kisses her again as a distraction, slotting their lips together, and it’s sweet and simple and calming. Kissing her is comforting, her lips a safe haven. She could be an angel, for all he knows, with a halo and wings and everything.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs between kisses, “do something for me?”

“Hm?” she hums, hazy and half-paying attention. She stutters a bit when Harry’s tongue flicks at her bottom lip, and then at the seam of her lips. He gives a reassuring kiss.

“Open up f’me a bit.” His hand cups her jaw and he soothingly pets her face, as if coaxing her to part her lips. “Wanna– wanna taste you.”

She can’t help but pause, pulling back from the kiss for just a second to process what he’s said, but she’s nodding yes before any insecurity can fill her mind. “Okay,” she says softly, swallowing nervously. “Um–” she tries to ask this without embarrassing herself, “What do I do with my tongue?”

He continues pressing kisses to the corner of her mouth, “Jus’– um – lick against mine, sunshine.” He pulls away for just a second, eyes half-hooded and not at all fazed about having to explain this to her. “Dunno how to really explain it. You’ll get the hang of it, though.” 

She nods once more, insecurely, and flutters her eyes shut as Harry leans back in to continue kissing her. His fingers scratch deliciously against her scalp as he licks against her lips again – this time, she opens. His tongue dips in slowly, like soft honey, warm and wet. It’s unfamiliar, sure, but it doesn’t bother her. She tries to mimic the way his jaw falls slack, and how his tongue dips forward and back softly, opening up for him more and more as he continues to gently kiss her. He licks into her again, brushing his tongue against hers and she finds herself not even thinking as she brushes back. Her eyebrows pinch together and her nails start to dig into his back as she unconsciously leans closer to him. 

Their lips move against each other slowly, a sultry dance that’s all brand new to y/n… but god is it hot to have his tongue in her mouth. He’s warm and wet and playful, using his tongue to tease her lower lip while they kiss, flicking against her tongue flirtatiously. A whimper crawls up her throat, needy and desperate for more. He’s showing her things that she’s never experienced before, and all the pent up sexual desire she’s had is bubbling up in her tummy, begging to be released. 

She’s started to move her hips against him in soft rolls, grinding herself down as subtly as she can, and Harry’s hands on her hip seems to be encouraging her, gripping her tightly and pulling her closer and closer. Her arms unravel from around his shoulders and sneak their way down to the hem of his shirt, fingers finding the firm, warm skin of his abdomen. Her hands skim upwards to feel the lines of muscle that line his tummy, and she can’t believe that this green eyed adonis is literally her boyfriend. She lightly tugs on the shirt signaling that she wants it off, and starts whining while her hips move against his and Harry lets out a deep, low groan. 

He gently grabs her hands that are toying with the edge of his shirt and guides them back around his neck. “Not yet, baby,” he mumbles, giving a couple of soft, more tame pecks while his hand slows down her hips. He gives her one firm kiss to her lips to leave her breathless, then traces some more down her neck while she pants up towards the ceiling. Her throat bobs as she swallows thickly, and for the first time, her eyes are filled with lust, arousal, and need. Harry looks just as bad as her, his eyes dark, pupils blown out, lips pink and swollen. 

“Need t’take it slow,” he rasps, sounding more like he’s trying to convince himself rather than y/n. 

She takes a deep breath, and nods her head, understanding. He’s doing this for her, saving her firsts so that they can be comfortable and memorable and special special… but god, sometimes she wishes he would just rip her clothes off and stuff his cock inside of her the way Rhysand does in the book she’s reading right now. Virginity is overrated anyway, who cares how she loses it! (she does)

But she agrees nonetheless, rolling off of him with a heavy sigh and wiping her lips with the back of her hand. She feels sticky in between her thighs and her heart has not beat at a normal pace for the past ten minutes of kissing Harry. But, whatever. She picks up her new stuffed elephant, petting its floppy ears softly, and thankfully doesn’t notice the way Harry has to subtly adjust his plumped up cocked. 

She just flops down next to him, elephant in hand, kicking her feet in the air behind her, and asks, “What do you think we should name her?”

+++

It’s become a sort of routine for Harry and y/n to hang out after class on Friday nights. 

Monday and Wednesday nights, y/n is usually at the library studying, and on Tuesday/Thursdays, Harry has a math lecture from 6-7:20. Of course, Harry will oftentimes sit at the library with her, maybe do some homework (or usually take a nap) while she reads her biology textbook and takes color coded notes. And on the nights that Harry has his late night lectures, she’ll stay on campus a little later so that they could get dinner together before class. 

But Friday nights are when they really get to see each other. Sunshine is usually too burnt-out by the end of the week to even think about studying, and Harry is more than content to sit at his apartment and play video games while she reads a book in his bed.

It’s their favorite way to hang out after a long week. No loud parties, no stinky rooms, no distractions. Just them, together. 

Blake’s gone back to visit his hometown for the weekend, so Harry and y/n have his apartment all to themselves. That means that instead of hiding out in his room like usual, they’ve migrated out to his living room. Harry’s playing some video game on the TV, filled with blood and war and gory stuff, but he’s turned down the volume so that the gross sounds don’t bother sunshine while she’s reading. She’s got a big hardcover book in her hands (Happy Place by Emily Henry), a book that she’d gotten when they went to Barnes and Noble together last Friday. She’s only just had the chance to start it, though, since she had a big bio midterm earlier today. 

Harry sits shirtless on the couch, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched in a serious way that looks insanely hot from where y/n is sitting. Her back is resting against the other arm of the couch, facing Harry with her feet up and crossed at the ankle, her pink fuzzy socks almost brushing against his elbows. He’s shirtless, only wearing a pair of gray sweats (!!!), and his arms just look so… big and yummy. She can see the small freckles and bumps on his tanned back as he hunches over his controller, and can’t tear her eyes away from the shadows of muscles along his back and shoulders. And his heart shaped lips… so pink and plump and kissable…

An amused smirk gradually spreads on Harry’s face, signature dimple denting his cheek as he feels y/n’s hungry eyes feasting on him from the other end of the couch. From the corner of his vision, he can see the way she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek, how her eyes are captivated by his bare torso with such fascination. 

He doesn’t think she even realizes how long she’s been staring at him.

He gives her a quick glance, eyes glimmering teasingly, and she realizes that she’s been embarrassingly caught. Quickly, she averts her eyes back down to her book, pretending like nothing happened.

Harry chuckles. “Whatcha starin’ at, sunshine?”

“Nothing,” she hums casually, despite her burning hot cheeks.

He pauses his game, putting the controller down onto the little coffee table next to him, and turns towards her. She refuses to meet his gaze this time, continuing to stare down at the page even though she’s processing about 0% of the words that she reads. No, her brain is exceedingly preoccupied with how her very attractive and very shirtless boyfriend is staring at her right now, with that teasing look in his eye. And that stupid, smug smirk. He’s like a snake about to attack a tiny little garden bunny. 

“Baby…” he goads, but she continues to pretend-read her book. Only when he lightly tickles her sock-covered foot does she pay any attention to him, yelping out and jolting her feet away. He snorts out a laugh as she folds both her feet underneath herself, clumsily protecting herself from Harry’s devilish fingers. It wouldn’t be hard for him to tackle her right now, hold her down on the couch while his fingers dig into her ribs and under her armpits until she's cry-laughing. He’s done it plenty of times before, and has found it to be the most effective way to get her attention… so she puts the book down obediently and looks up at him with a shy smile.

“Hi,” she says innocently, pretending like she hadn’t been ogling him for five minutes straight while he’d been playing his game. She just sits there with her hands in her lap, as if she’s an angel. 

He smiles knowingly. Her longing stares and hungry eyes are her silent indication that she wants a kiss. The type of kiss where he pulls her into his lap, licks into her mouth, and palms at her ass. A real, proper make out. 

She probably doesn’t know that she’s so obvious about it, he thinks – staring at his lips with puppy dog eyes and drooling over his bare chest. She’s trying to play it casual, but he can see the needy glimmer in her eyes. It seems like making out with her that first time in her bedroom opened the floodgates, unleashing something in y/n that had been so innocently contained by her angelic, virginal facade. Ever since then, she’s been giving him these eyes, begging for more. 

He shakes his head to himself, still smirking, before leaning forward to kiss her. This is exactly what she wants, and Harry knows it. Her longing stares and hungry eyes were just her silent way of asking for a kiss, since she’s a little too shy to ask for it straight up.

Their lips fold over each other, a slow kiss, gentle and meant only to subdue y/n. The only sound in the room is the soft smacking of their lips against each other, the little click that comes every time his lips slide off hers and then reattach milliseconds later. He leads the kiss (he always does), so every time he tilts her head, sunshine tilts the other way. When he slides his fingers into her hair, she stretches her neck upwards. When his teeth nip at her bottom lip teasingly, she whines with furrowed brows, pressing herself against his lips harder. And when he licks at the seam of her lips, she opens up for him, just like he taught her. 

He can feel his cock stirring, and forces himself to pull away. It’s a kiss deep enough to satisfy most of sunshine’s needs – to quiet her racing mind and get her focused on just him and nothing else – but it’s also nothing too intense to overwhelm her. And, it’s tame enough for Harry to be able to show some restraint. 

He has to take a second, hovering in front of her with his eyes still closed. His hand is still cupping her jaw, just reveling in the taste of her chapstick that lingers on his lips… he takes a deep, calming breath. Breathe in, hold for seven seconds, then out. He’s strong. 

But… when he opens his eyes, she’s looking up at him with disappointed and longing irises, her bottom lip jutting out sadly. She wants more, her eyes clearly say, and she’s needy for him, her pouted lips tease.

Okay maybe he’s not that strong. 

He’s barely kissed her, and yet her pupils are blown out with desire, breath already catching in her throat. He wonders how disheveled she’d look if he really kissed her. How she’d whimper out little noises if he licked into her mouth, or how her chest would rise and fall while she tries to catch her breath. She’d probably grip onto his shirt, wrap her arms around his neck and twist her fingers into his hair, tugging on it desperately.  And he’d grip her hips, grind her down onto his cock, bite on her bottom lip and suck on her tongue… god, his dick twitches at the thought of it. 

If he were strong, he’d shut his eyes and get a hold of himself – but he’s not. Instead he stares at her pretty lips, slicked and swollen just from that little bit of kissing. His thumb softly brushes against the apple of her cheek, while her eyes only grow wider and more pleading. If he likes her lips so much, then why doesn’t he just get back to kissing her! 

His thumb comes down to tug on her pouty lip so he can watch it bounce back into place. His eyes darken, his nose flares, and his eyebrows furrow, and then he hears her whimper, literally whimper because of how pent up and needy she’s feeling. His resolve crumbles.

If she wants more, he’ll give her more.

He kisses her again, still soft and gentle, but somehow it’s hotter. Needier. Their lips fold over each other over and over again, an eager, spit-slicked exchange. The only sound in the room is the soft smacking of their lips against each other, the little click that comes every time his lips slide off hers and then reattach milliseconds later. 

Y/n is unconsciously lifting herself up to be closer to him, nearly sitting on her knees now, pressing herself upwards and upwards. At this point he should just pull her on top of her, he thinks, so he puts a hand on her hip and coaxes her onto his lap. 

She’s clumsy as she climbs onto him, too concentrated on not messing up their kiss to successfully untangle her own legs (she’s still new to all this), but Harry doesn’t mind it. It’s endearing, how her foot gets stuck underneath her butt as she presses herself closer to him, or how her knee knocks against his hip as she tries to straddle him. His hands gently guide her thighs as she maneuvers herself onto his lap, hands encasing her ribs and steadying her uncoordinated movements.

His thighs spread open in a natural manspread, and he slouches down enough on the couch so that y/n’s a head above him. She has to lean down to keep their lips connected, her hair falling into his face, and her hands tentatively find their way to his shoulders so that she can keep her balance and not fall on top of him. Harry’s fingers gently brush the hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear, then linger on her face, tracing over her cheekbone and cupping her jaw. He loves holding her face when he kisses her, especially because she unconsciously leans into his touch, sighing happily the way a kitten being pet would purr. 

She never knew the simple act of kissing could be this hot… but there’s something about having his warm mouth against hers, feeling the slick of his spit as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth… even just feeling his heavy breaths against the side of her cheek. Soft sighs and little moans escape her in a way she can’t control, and her brows pinch together in the cutest, most desperate way when his hands migrate over her bum and start palming her.

She just wants to kiss him over and over and over again! No breaks, not even to breathe. She wants to feel his lips against hers until she passes out.

She reciprocates his every move eagerly, like a little puppy learning how to do tricks. She’ll move her head whichever way his nose nudges her, slot her lips against his at whatever pace he decides on. When he breathes, she breathes, and when he slides his fingers into her hair, she stretches her neck upwards. He’s constantly tilting his head to the left and then to the right, switching between suckling on her top and bottom lip, alternating between open mouth and closed mouth kisses – just teaching her as he kisses her. 

Harry pulls away softly, pressing his forehead to hers and petting the apple of her cheek with his thumb, giving her a break to catch her breath. “Alright?” he asks a bit breathlessly. She nods, eager but apprehensive. Harry calms her with a simple peck, soft and familiar. “Y’doing so good, sunshine,” he murmurs reassuringly. 

He’s kissing her again three seconds later, slower and more deliberately this time. She parts her lips once more, more sure of herself this time, and when his tongue flicks against her bottom lip softly she experimentally licks back. It immediately illicits a deep groan from Harry. He slides his tongue past her lips, tasting her, licking into her. His teeth nip at her bottom lip teasingly, and she whines with furrowed brows, pressing herself against his lips harder. He’s obsessed with her. Her lips are so soft, her body so pliant, he could kiss her for hours on end. 

She’s growing more and more desperate as their kiss grows hotter and hotter. Her hands on his shoulders start to wander, grazing over his tattooed chest, and she shuffles around on his lap, trying to wriggle closer to him. She’s getting that tingly feeling in her center that she only gets when she’s reading one of those books, and unconsciously, she starts grinding her center down on his lap. 

Harry lets out a strained groan, his hands immediately shooting down to hold her hips still. “Fuck,” he rasps, throwing his head back.

“Hm?” Y/n is out of it, chasing after his lips as he pulls away, completely unaware of Harry’s discomfort. She pouts at how his fingers are digging into her hips, preventing her from wriggling any closer to him when it’d felt so good! “What’s wrong?”

She threads her fingers through his hair, her nails scratching against his scalp, and tries to pull him back for a kiss – but he turns his head to the side, refusing. The abruptness leaves y/n disgruntled and confused. She’s panting, a bit breathless from how his tongue had been licking in her mouth, the electricity that had been flowing through her veins slowly fizzling away. Her lips are swollen, nearly bruised, and furrows her brows at the abrupt end to this >very nice kiss. 

"Need–" he licks his lips, "need t'take a second."

"Why?" she whines, staring down at his mouth. 

"M'bout to cum in my pants, sunshine. Gimme a bit." 

Her eyes widen. She looks down and sure enough… there’s the outline of his hard cock, a prominent bulge in his sweatpants. She’s never actually seen one in person and– gosh the size of it makes her tremble a little bit. Is that normal or is he just really big? He looks thick, and the tip of his cock is a significant length down his thigh. Why is her mouth watering? She swallows thickly and looks back up at him, like a deer caught in headlights.

She tries to give him some space, moving her hips back so that she’s not brushing against his erection… but even that small movement is painful for Harry, making him throw his head back with a loud groan. “I need to go to the bathroom,” Harry pants, hands on her hips, already lifting her off his lap. 

“What– oh!” she squeals as she’s suddenly thrown onto the couch.

She blinks. The bathroom door shuts. 

She’s never been more aroused in her life. 

+++

Harry has his hand down his sweatpants before he can even lock the door, fishing out his cock and palming himself with a deep groan. His pants slide down to midthigh as he spreads his own precum over his shaft, his fingers wrapped around himself in a tight fist. He pumps quickly, making sure to rub a thumb over his tip every once in a while, as that's one of the easiest ways to make himself cum. He wants this to be quick – he’s not in the bathroom jerking off because he wants an insane orgasm… he just wants his cock to stop hurting while he’s kissing his girlfriend! 

He throws his head back against the wall and thrusts his hips into his own hand, conjuring up all the images in his head – y/n’s pretty lips, slicked and swollen with his spit. Her disheveled hair, mussed up from his fingers. Her wide, moony eyes, her dreamy sighs and whimpers. Her cute bum in her tiny shorts, that had fit so nicely in the palm of his hand, that had jiggled so prettily when he lifted her onto his lap. His toes curl as he lets his thoughts get more explicit – how pretty would she look if she were the one jerking him off right now? If she was down on her knees with her tiny hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him and looking at his prick with those bambi eyes. What if she took him into her mouth? Laved her tongue around his tip the way his thumb is doing now? His biceps bulge as he jerks himself off, harder and faster, more cum leaking from his tip and making the glide smoother. If only he could fill up her mouth, cover her pretty lips with his cum…

His entire body shivers, long white streaks bursting from his cock and all over his fist. He bites his lip, refusing to let any sound escape the bathroom for y/n to hear. She’s not ready for… this. 

He looks at himself in the mirror– his cheeks are flushed, his hair is a mess, and his cock looks worn out. He washes his hands in the sink with soap, shamefully washing away the mess he made on his own hand, then splashes his face with water. His prick is still sensitive and he winces as he tucks himself back into his sweatpants. It’s barely been five minutes since he first entered the bathroom, meaning that he lasted a whopping… three minutes. 

She says nothing when he comes back, already back to reading her book. He lets out a sigh of relief. 

He stays firmly on his side of the couch for the rest of the night. 

+++

“Harry,” y/n moans.

Her hair is splayed out on Harry’s pillow underneath her head, Harry hovering right above her. He has one hand pressed on the bed to keep him above her, and the other on her hip, roaming up and down her body. One minute he’ll be cradling her ribcage delicately, and the next he’ll be gripping her thigh and hoisting it up and around his waist so that he can fit his hips in between hers.

Her hands are similarly roaming up and down his chest and his back, holding onto his shoulders and grabbing his biceps as he kisses her. Her back arches as his hand squeezes her bum, and a broken whimper filters between their lips. His tongue slips into her mouth when she whines, gliding against hers smoothly. And when he pulls off from the kiss, he lightly bites at her lower lip, tugging on it playfully before letting it bounce back into place. 

He buries his face in her neck, kissing down to her shoulder and over her collarbones, sucking lightly and then smoothing his tongue over the abused spots soothingly. His teeth nip and graze the thin skin of her throat, and his chest rumbles when she throws her head back to grant him more access. 

This is torture for him. 

It had started off so innocently, just the two of them watching Netflix together. His head was laying on her chest while they watched their movie, her fingers brushing through his hair (he loves it when she plays with his hair). But then – god, he’d been so stupid!!! He looked up at her, and saw her pretty face and her pretty eyes and her pretty lips… and he just wanted to kiss her so bad. One kiss wouldn’t hurt, he told himself!!!

He lifted his head from where his ear had been pressed against her breast, and leaned up to just press one sweet, innocent kiss to her lips. But then, one kiss turned into two, and two turned into three. He hated how she had to strain her neck and lean down to reach his lips, so he twisted around to make it easier for her. But then his neck started to hurt, so he pushed himself up so he was hovering above her. And now his dick is hard, and he’s grinding it down into her most intimate area.

He’s mentally bashing himself while kissing her – he should’ve had more self-control, he should pull away and go to the bathroom to sort himself…  but also he can’t stop kissing her. 

Y/n has zero complaints either, practically egging him on, begging him to go further. She threaded her fingers through his hair while they kissed, and wrapped her arms around him so that he wouldn’t pull away. She whimpered and whined prettily, fluttered her eyes when he kissed down her throat, arched her back into him and lifted her hips so that she could press herself into the area where he was obviously very hard.

He’s literally just a guy. How is he supposed to pull away when his soft and sweet girlfriend is pressing herself against her cock and moaning against his lips?

“Fuck,” his voice is strained and there’s a vein bulging in his neck as he takes a second to breathe. Y/n has learned well, and starts trailing kisses along his jaw while he catches his breath. She tries her hand at sucking marks on his neck, but finds herself too impatient to focus all her energy on one spot when she just wants to kiss all over his neck and cheeks! Her lips skim the corner of his mouth, pressing soft, teasing kisses. 

He breathes heavily, shutting his eyes and trying really, really hard to not cum in his pants.

Y/n makes it practically impossible though, whining “kiss me,” as her nails scratch deliciously at his scalp. Fire rushes through his veins at the sound of her voice and he nearly collapses on top of her.

“Baby…” he says, half warning and half pleading. She’s literal heaven on Earth. Her lips are like magnets, and when she skims her lips over his he can’t help but pucker to connect them in a kiss. She bites down on his lip, teasing him, and licks into his mouth, desperately wanting to feel his tongue gliding against hers again. 

She’s a riled up little thing, concupiscent and needy, eager to kiss for hours at a time. He’s had to invest in a jumbo sized vaseline to keep his lips hydrated with how overworked his lips are. And she’s naughty under her good girl, studious, bookworm persona. She tugs on his hair and leaves scratches on his back when they kiss, wraps her legs around him and lifts her hips to grind her softest areas against his hardness. She moans and whimpers and tells him how good he feels, presses her breasts up to his chest… god he can only imagine how she’ll act when he actually gets to touch her. 

His hand slides up her side, over her ribs and to her breast, palming it over her t-shirt. She loves being groped, apparently, always leaning into his touch whenever his hands pinch her tits teasingly or cup her ass. It makes her even needier for him, makes her more desperate to get rid of the clothes and jump straight in. Neither of them know how they’ve managed to go this long with only make outs and groping, when they’re just so obsessed with touching and feeling the other. It’s mostly only Harry’s romantic heart that has managed to keep them strong, who is absolutely adamant on giving y/n sweet and cherishable firsts. These hot makeouts are just a loophole around his rules.

Harry loses himself in her, lets her fill up all his senses. She’s all he can hear, all he can smell, all he can taste, and all he can touch. His mind is void of anything except for getting closer to sunshine, kissing her more and touching her more. Her tits are soft and warm, her bum is round and biteable, and her cute little tummy jumps whenever his fingers skim over it. He unconsciously grinds his hips into her center, the tip of his cock rubbing against her clit, from what he can feel through her thin shorts. His jaw goes slack every time he grinds himself against her, the pressure in his pants growing tighter and tighter– until he groans loudly above her, hiding his face in her chest as his entire body shudders and his arms grow weak. 

Y/n freezes, knowing that this particular grind of his hips was different from the rest. Instead of rolling his hips forward and backward, the way he’d been doing before, he presses his hips firmly against her and ruts forward in short jolts, hips twitching and abdomen clenching. A raspy groan leaves him, his cheeks red as cherries and his eyes hooded with pleasure. Y/n feels herself gushing at the thought of what just happened, and replays it in her head over and over and over again. Her voice cracks around a moan as he gives one final thrust against her, his hand squeezing around her tit firmly and erotically brushing against her nipple.

Their eyes meet, hers wide and blown out with a mix of innocent shock and filthy thoughts, while his are clear as the morning sky after a night of cleansing rain. He radiates post-orgasmic bliss.  

His cheeks are red like cherries and his eyes are lust-filled and hazy, hooded with pleasure. He radiates post-orgasmic bliss.

“Well, shit,” he chuckles at himself. He’s kind of embarrassed that he literally came in his pants by making out with his girlfriend, but for the most part he is just relieved that his balls aren’t bursting anymore. “Sorry, sunshine. I couldn’t– um, I couldn’t really control it.” He pushes himself up, feeling his own cum slowly against his thigh. “Are you okay?”

She nods, almost as if she’s in a trance. “I… want to do that again,” she whispers bashfully.

“Y’want to make me cum in m’pants again?” he asks with a soft, confused laugh.

“I-I just want to watch you… cum, again,” she hesitates around the word, feeling dirty and shy, despite how true the statement is. “Next time… next time, can I help?” she asks hopefully.

HIs eyes roll to the back of his head and he leans back down for a kiss.

“Y’gonna kill me, sunshine.”

+++

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#harry fic #harry smut #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fan fiction #harry writing

[norizz-nation]

Hiii can you please do Charles leclerc x innocent reader and they have been best friends since childhood and he’s so soft for her and protective and like daddy and baby girl relationship please 🙏

Sure girl, hope you enjoy 😮‍💨

Just with me ❤️

Summary: you always saw your childhood best friend charles dating so many girls but you were there with no boyfriends so you decided to go on a date with a guy you met on tinder which charles definitely hated

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, daddy kink, size kink, innocence kink, praise kink

Although you and charles were friends since you guys were kids but nowadays you feel like he isn’t the kid you were friends with anymore. He’s a man now. A grown man. A man who always goes out with girls. He’s never single. But at the same time he made you feel like you’re someone special. Someone he can always trust, he can always share a laugh with, someone who he needs to protect at all cost. He always made you feel so safe. But no matter what, he was dating others that made you feel jealous but he knew that you would never date anyone since all your life the only guy you know is charles. But surprise, you downloaded an app called tinder where you started to talk to this guy and tonight was a date night with him.

You got all dressed up and left for your date. After arriving at the restaurant you scanned the whole place to find the guy you met on tinder. After a while you saw a hand raise signaling you thats him. You then settled yourself down and smiled at him. God, this is so awkward. You guys had dinner and talked a little but it wasn’t that much of a nice date. Honestly you dont even know why you’re here. Maybe competing charles in this was a stupid idea. “Hey um.. i had fun but i guess i gotta go now. I’ve got some stuffs that needs to be done” you said as you grabbed your purse and got up and you felt a hand grabbing your wrist harshly as you turned around to face him. God. He was not looking safe. You got so scared and tried to pull away but he grabbed your wrist hard and pulled you closer to him. You tried your best to pull away. “Let m-me go!” You said sounding frustrated. “You’re not gonna leave until we do something fun. We’ve met on tinder for a reason my love.” He said calmly as you started to scared.

You were a virgin. Although you’re charles’ age yet you never had sex with anyone. Your mind started to wander as you were hoping to see charles somewhere at the restaurant and thank god. Miracle happened, you saw charles from a distance and caught his eyes. At first he waved and smiled at you but his smiled slowly disappeared as he saw you with another guy. Someone he definitely doesn’t know. Someone who looks really unsafe and psychotic. Charles’ expression was a concerned one as he came to your table. “Whats going on here y/n? Who’s this guy?” Charles asked as he pointed a finger at him. You were so caught up in that situation that you weren’t able to answer his question. “Y/n?” He called out and you flinched and looked at him. “Im her boyfriend” that guy from tinder said as charles turned around to look at him and then looked at you. “Boyfriend?” Charles asked, looking at you as his brows furrowed. “Where did you even meet him?” He asked you. “On tinder” you said sounding embarrassed. Charles then scoffed as if it was just silly to him that you went on a date with someone from tinder. “But charles he’s not my boyfriend!” you explained and he just nodded and smiled. “He was kinda forcing me to sleep with him” you said, your words were like little whispers. Charles’ smile faded as he looked at you, his eyes so serious, his stare burning you. His jaw clenched when he say you so uncomfortable in front of that guy.

It felt like a movie when you saw charles punch that guy out of nowhere. Everything just happened so fast. “What the fuck man?!” that guy shouted as everyone looked at our way, gasping. “Charles! Stop please!” You screamed at him as you tried to pull his away from that guy whose nose was bleeding right now. “Apologize to her, right fucking now! If i see you near her again I’ll fucking kill you. I fucking swear you’re gonna be fucking dead.” Charles said as he grabbed his collar. That guy then got up and immediately apologized to you and left murmuring some “total asshole” or something.

Charles then turned to see you looking up at him. He then went closer and hugged you tightly and kissed your head, brushing his fingers through your hair. You let out a long sigh as your grip around him tightened. “Its okay y/n, im here now. You’re always safe with me, i promise” he said as he looked down at you smiling softly as you smiled back at him.

After reaching home, your home, you laid on your back in your bed as you groaned because you were tired as charles took his shoes off. You turned your head to look at him. “Shouldn’t you be with your i dont know 8th girlfriend of this month right now? Why are you here?” You asked. His face was really pissed for some reason, and you didn’t know why. He came closer to you so he was standing right in front of you as you looked up at him. God, you always loved him so much. He’s so beautiful. His thumb brushed your chin as your mouth started to part a bit. “Its so cute how you think you can date others just because i always date others. Well good news for you. Your trick worked. You did make me jealous” he said as he leaned down to whisper in your ear “but i know you’re always waiting for me. I know you’re still a virgin only for me and its so cute” his words made your heart beat faster as you looked at him, his smirking face making you more needy for him.

“But you’re always busy dating others. Im tired of waiting for you charles” you said as you sighed. Charles just giggled at you “you’re so innocent baby. you do know that right?” he said as he brushed your hair away from your face. “I always loved you, i just wanted to see how you would react to it. And it’s so cute that you wanted to make me all jealous for you” his face was just an inch away from yours. You parted your lips but he just smirked and pulled away giving a soft kiss on your nose. You then whined out as Charles sat on the edge of your bed and rested his upper body’s weight in his palm. “Get up baby girl” he said as you got confused. You got up standing in front of him as you looked down at him. “Take all your clothes off baby girl, nice and slow. I wanna see what I’ve been missing all this time” he said as you softly smiled at you. Your cheeks grew red as you unbuttoned your top and pulled your skirt down along with your panties and unhooked your bra. You then bend over to take off your heels but charles interrupted you as he got up and towered in front of you. Although you were wearing heels yet charles was like a giant in front of your figure. “Keep those heels on, you look so hot like that, so pretty. All for me baby girl?” He asked as you nodded. He then cupped your face and made you look up at him “you gotta speak with that pretty little mouth of yours baby girl”

“Im all yours charles” you said he smiled but his smile disappeared after few seconds. You were feeling so needy just by the fact that you were naked while charles was still fully clothed. You were wearing nothing but your black heels. “Charles? Baby girl i dont think you’re that innocent that you dont know what to call me” he said as he brushed your cheek with his thumb. “Im all y-yours daddy” you said softly as you looked up at him. His smile grew as he kissed your lips softly “that’s my good baby girl” he said.

You dont know how much but you were literally squirming for him right now. Your legs on his shoulder as he kept teasing you by rubbing your clit with the tip of his dick. The wet sounds it made was making you more whiny and needy for him. “Please daddy j-just fuck m-me please” you begged. “Are you sure you can take it baby girl? Can your pretty little pussy take it like a good girl?” God his words made you so over the edge right now. “I-i can, please d-daddy” you whined out as charles pushed his dick inside of you. Your jaw dropped as your head fell back and your grip on his forearm getting tighter. “Fuuuck you feel so good baby girl, so fuckin good” charles groaned as he fucked you in a slow pace, letting you adjust first.

“Daddy i-its so f-fucking b-big oh my god!” You screamed those words as charles’ pace got faster. His hips slapping your ass as he thrusted harder inside of you. “You’re so perfect baby girl, so beautiful fuck” he said breathlessly as he groaned more. His groans made you come closer to your orgasm as you felt your legs starting to shake, forehead sweating as you bit on your lip to adjust to the staggering amount of pleasure he was giving you. You couldn’t even tell him before cumming, you were so caught up in your orgasm that you forgot to tell him that you’re gonna cum. You then let out a loud groan as charles stopped his pace and stayed in that position for a while.

You then got up and sat on your legs as you looked up at charles and he knew what you were thinking. He jerked off as you sticked your tongue out. His groans were getting louder and you looked at him straight in the eye as he came on your face, some landing in your mouth and some all over your face. You then smiled at him innocently as charles brushed your hair off your face as he looked at you with a soft look on his face “you’re so beautiful when you’re just with me and no one else baby girl” he said as your smile grew bigger.

A/N: requests are open! feel free to ask what you want me to write! luv you ❤️

#f1 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #formula one #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc #cl16 one shot #cl16 x y/n #f1 smut #charles leclerc smut #cl16 #cl16 x reader #f1 fic #cl16 x you #formula 1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 2023 #forza ferrari #ferrari #ferrari f1 #scuderia ferrari #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc 16 #cl16 imagine #cl16 smut #formula racing

[bysaber]

Stuck in a cabin ft. Megumi Fushiguro

Day 14 of 31 Days of Ficmas!

summary — after a ski trip with a group of friends, a snowstorm traps you and the only person in the group you barely talk with, megumi fushiguro.

word count — 1.6k

content — MDNI, smut, mutual pining, mutual masturbation, praise kink (megumi has it), megumi is a little inexperienced but it’s not explicit, finger sucking (?), yuji x reader mentioned, lowercase intended

notes — happy bday megs!! my fav boy <3

it’s been one hour and a half since you and megumi started drinking and the silence is beyond excruciating.

you both have many things to say, he and you are aware of that, but somewhat the both of you can’t push yourselves to say any of it. fear holds your words back, locking them in your throats.

after a cheerful weekend with all of your friends, you were left alone; yuta and maki took off first thing in the morning and, since you slept until 1 p.m. and nobara had an assignment to turn in, yuji drove her.

megumi rented the place so, being the one who needed to hand the keys to the renter, promised yuji he would take you home instead.

problem is – by the time you got up and packed your things, a snowstorm started, trapping you and megumi in the cabin far above some mountains.

“uh, i forgot to tell you… yuji apologized for not driving you back. he was your ride, right?” megumi finally breaks the silence, his gaze locked on his empty glass of wine.

he wonders if he should fill it again.

he is a lightweight, but the wine isn’t that strong.

“that’s fine,” you couldn’t care less about yuji. not right now. this is the closest you’ve ever been to megumi, the guy who unknowingly has you on his knees, the reason you suggest drinking together in the first place. “sorry to trouble you, though.”

the raven-haired boy can feel your eyes on him, as if you’re trying to figure him out. if the wine hadn’t tinted his cheeks red yet, you would be able to see the blush on his face.

silence engulfs you again, and it sickens him to hear you gulping down your drink. with the silence, it becomes so very easy to hear all the little sounds you make, even your breathing. he’s not sure he can handle it.

he needs to break it.

“so… you and yuji?”

megumi wants to slap himself the moment the words leave his lips. what kind of question is that? he swears at himself, but he truly wants to know.

he has liked you for so long that, when he started growing suspicious about your relationship with yuji, he didn’t have the stomach to ask about it to his best friend. he would tell himself he was better off not knowing.

but yuji isn’t here.

and you… you are.

he hears it when you laugh – a laugh so genuine it warms his heart – and turns his head to look at you. you seem really amused, but he doesn’t get what’s so funny and a little pout appears on his lips.

“uh, me and yuji are just friends, megumi,” you say when your laugh comes to an end. “just friends.”

“ah,” should he believe you? you aren’t even close. why would you tell him? “i just thought…”

“what did you think, megs?” you’re fast to approach him, now sitting so close together your thighs touch and your breath fans over his jaw. you wear a playful, almost wicked, smile as you press further, “did you think i was fucking yuji?”

the dirty word in your voice makes megumi’s cock twitch. he tries to keep his breathing steady, putting his glass on the table before turning completely to you, although avoiding your eyes. does it matter if he lies? “yes.”

“why do you care?” your ambush has him almost collapsing in front of you. megumi can feel his blood running cold as he tries to think of an answer to give you, a decent one that won’t put him into further trouble. “do you want to fuck me instead, megumi?”

it is so hard to think when your face is so close. are you testing him? have you found out about his crush on you? about his perverted fantasies? are you trying to catch him red-handed?

megumi lifts his eyes to meet yours, a ‘sorry’ on the tip of his tongue when he catches on how you seem to be drowned in lust. your pupils dilated, shining bright, and a silent request you never make.

he kisses you with utter desperation, his hand grabbing the back of your neck to pull you closer and guide you through it. you straight up mewl against his lips, the sound making his blood run straight down to his dick.

as his tongue invades your mouth, you grab his shirt tight and lay down, pulling him with you. megumi doesn’t even know where to put his hands, shaking slightly as he runs them over your sides; grabbing, squeezing, making sure you are really there.

as soon as you part the kiss, your lips are on his neck and he groans, rutting his hips against your legs. he can feel his entire body growing hotter, his cheeks flushing, but you give him no time to doubt himself as you part your legs to accommodate him.

“shit…” he hisses, thrusting in a desperate attempt to have some relief. “can i… can i take these off? is this okay?”

you nod and he immediately retreats, just enough to take your sweatpants off you. too many clothes, he thinks. everything suddenly became so hot.

“take yours off, too,” you say. “please.”

you watch, lust and adoration filling you, as he stands and pulls his pants down with trembling hands. you can see the bulge on his underwear, your mouth salivating at the sight.

but megumi doesn’t wait another second before he’s on the couch again, kneeling in front of you. his hands are cold when they touch your knees, silently asking for you to open your legs again – and you do.

“kiss me again,” you notice he’s nervous so you ask, and when megumi presses his weight down on you and connects your lips again, you become a mess. “megumi…” you whisper between a kiss, moaning softly when he thrusts against you, the wetness in your panties making it feel so damn good. “are you sure you want this?”

megumi knows you can see his anxiety, but you erase it with each kiss. you erase it when you roll your hips on him, making him whimper. “yes. yes.”

you’re not sure he’s answering your question, and he buries his face on your neck as his right hand goes straight to your core. “megumi.”

“want this… want you so bad,” he whines close to your ear, pulling your panties down a little and cupping your pussy. you both moan, “shit– you’re so wet. i did this?”

his question is genuine, taking his face off your neck to look at you. he looks so fucked up and it drives you insane, knowing he was on cloud nine for touching you alone.

“y–yeah. you did,” you can barely express yourself as he massages your lower lips, his eyes locked on your face to gather every bit of your reactions. when he presses his thumb on your clit, it’s your turn to whimper, “fuck, fuck, –gumi.”

“feels good?” he’s so desperate for confirmation you’d find it cute if you weren’t so lost in yourself already.

“yeah, so good,” he hums happily with your answer, playing with your clit and circling your entrance with one of his fingers. you cry out when he pushes it inside, pumping a few times before pushing in another, “‘s so good. so good to me, megumi,” you’re out of your mind, moving your hips with him.

his chest fills with pride as he watches you squirm underneath him, hearing you praise him. he doesn’t even see you moving your hand to grab his cock, making him falter for a bit.

you push his underwear down just enough to free him, almost automatically smearing the pre-cum leaking from his tip as much as you can before wrapping your hand around him, “wanna make you– feel good too.”

he sighs in pleasure, curling his fingers inside you as he thrusts them and massages your clit. you stop pumping him for a second to collect your own wetness before enveloping him again, “fuck, fuck.” he doesn’t know for how long he can last, knowing damn well he looks like a dog in heat as he matches your movements and speed.

your orgasm comes crashing down and megumi eats the sounds you make by kissing you, the way your walls clench around his fingers and you make a mess on them being the last straw for him to cum as well.

you gasp, still coming down from your high as you feel his seed dripping on your sensitive pussy, painting it white. almost as if claiming you.

when you open your eyes to see there’s cum everywhere, you notice it wasn’t intentional. “shit, megumi, you’re so hot.”

he’s still shaking, so you motion for him to lay on top of you, “sorry, i didn’t want to–”

you shut him by taking your hand to your mouth, licking his cum off it with adoration. megumi feels his cock stir, but copies your movements, licking you off his fingers as well.

you don’t even have to think before you put your fingers on his mouth and he puts his on yours. you feel synchronized, eyes locked on each other and mind filled with dirty thoughts as you suck each other’s fingers off.

and then megumi kisses you again, your mouth filled with the taste of you both combined and you sigh, “you’re so good.”

you don’t mind how many times you’ve said it, you want to keep saying it over and over again. especially when his eyes light up like that.

megumi waited for you for a long time and now he truly is going to be good.

to you.

#s23ficmas #wbysaber #thirsty saber #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #megumi #x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #megumi fushiguro smut #fanfic #smut

[nathaslosthershit]

Everyone's Favorite Uncle (TD!OP81)

(Part 6 of Teen Dad [Can be read on its own]) Summary: The 1st time Logan met the Piastri twins and the 3 other times he cemented himself as the favorite honorary uncle. Warnings: Mentions of the 'Tensions Rise' fight. But mostly a whole lot of fluff

1. First Meeting

At 3 months old, the twins hadn’t met anyone who wasn’t family, their parents being extra cautious about bringing them around new people. As expected, these first 3 months as parents had been far from easy for 19 year old Oscar and 18 year old Honey. Especially now that Frances, their daughter, had started teething earlier than usual. Being as it was a painful experience for the newborn, Frances had been non stop crying, causing her brother, Hudson, to cry in return. After days of minimal sleep, the house was a mess and so was everyone in it.

After weeks of asking, Oscar had finally let Logan come over to see the twins. Had he known what the state of his home would be at the time, he probably would have pushed back the visit even more, but Logan refused to let Oscar cancel for something as trivial as a messy house. But he was unprepared for just how messy the home he was entering was going to be.

Fortunately, when Logan had arrived, all seemed well in the house. The twins were awake and not crying, and Honey had gotten a quick power nap in while Oscar tried to clean up the living room. Logan had noticed the lack of energy his long time friend seemed to have when he entered but he had brushed it off as the first few months of fatherhood having drained his energy. They talked for a bit while Honey fed the kids in the other room, all seemed well until…

“Oscar, she is crying again and I just fed and changed her. She isn’t due for a nap either. God, I think it's her teeth again. Can you go get the teething ring? I think it's in the fridge.” Honey asked as she barged into the room, clearly stressed.

Oscar immediately got up to check the fridge while Honey offered a quick hello to Logan. After a few minutes of silence and Oscar making loud banging noises that only made Frances cry harder, he came back in, empty handed.

“It's not there, love. Could you have placed it somewhere else?” He asked, starting to panic as Frances’ cries got louder.

Logan felt awful watching this go down. He knew it wasn’t his fault but guilt ate away at him while he stood there, not knowing what to do.

“Crap, I don’t think I washed it. It may be next to the sink? I'll go wash it while you get the soothing gel. Um… Logan, can you hold her?” Even though Honey had phrased it like a question, Logan realized it was not as she shoved the baby in his hands. Thankfully he had held babies before so he wasn’t so helpless, but this pressure to not hurt the screaming child did make him shake a little.

Sitting down on the couch, he readjusted the baby in his arms, starting to sway her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He watched as his two friends hurried off while he noticed Frances starting to quiet down. Minutes later when both parents barged in, they witnessed magic. Their previously fussy daughter was now cooing and giggling while in the arms of their long time friend. 

“How?” Honey asked, too shocked to get out a full sentence.

“I-I don’t know she just stopped crying and started staring at me.” Logan replied with the same amount of shock in his voice.

“You are a miracle worker.” Oscar said. At this, Logan looked up at the two teen parents, taking in their disheveled states. He would have laughed if it wasn’t so sad. 

An idea came to his head.

“You two go clean yourselves and rest a little, I’ll watch her. Maybe bring Hudson in so I can meet him as well.” Logan demanded. He wouldn’t have used such a commanding tone if he didn’t think they would fight him on this. As much as they needed the extra time to themselves, they were far too humble, maybe even stupid, to ask for help.

With a few quick ‘are you sure' and ‘you are a lifesaver’, the two parents slowly backed out of the room after bringing their son in.

They got two hours to shower and nap before it was time to take their kids back from Logan. 

The twins might have been too young to realize it at the time, but this was the moment he became everyone’s favorite uncle, especially Honey and Oscar’s.

2. First words

Ever since Logan had met the twins a year ago, he had frequented the Piastri household to see the family. It was Valentine's day and Logan, having no plans or someone to spend it with, had stepped up to offer to babysit so the two parents could get a break. While he was happy to watch the kids, he also had ulterior motives for visiting.

For the past few months, ever since the twins turned 1, Oscar had been stressing about how long it was taking them to say their first words. Honey was less stressed than her boyfriend, as she knew she took much longer than most kids to say her first words and ended up fine, but it was getting to the point where she started to get a little cautious. What they didn’t know was that for the past few months Logan had been trying to throw his name into the mix. While Oscar tried to sound out the word “Dada'', and Honey pushed “Mama”, Logan had secretly been trying to get them to saw “LoLo”. He had gotten a ‘Lo’ from Hudson so far but he still wasn’t satisfied. 

“Don’t worry, I have done this so many times already. Go out and have a reasonable amount of fun, two kids is enough for you both for now.” Logan joked as he started pushing Honey and Oscar out of their own house. He didn’t feel the need to sit through a 45 minute lecture he had been given far too many times already. 

Once they had left, Logan began his master plan. While he changed, fed, changed again, washed, and played with the twins, he kept repeating “LoLo” hoping they would finally bite and say it. Sadly though, there was nothing but the usual gibberish from the two.

He felt defeated as he opened the door to Oscar and Honey, who had clearly had a fun night as they came stumbling in. The kids were still up as they had napped late and Honey wanted to put them to bed once she got home.

“Thank you SO much Logan. You are a gift from God as usual.” Honey slurred as she went to change, leaving Oscar and Logan alone to talk.

As Logan packed up to head to his apartment, Oscar said hello to his kids. Just as he walked out the door, Logan heard a very clear and very distinct “LoLo” from behind him. As he turned around, he was met with Hudson reaching out to him and a completely stunned Oscar holding the one year old. 

Realizing he had been caught, Logan entered fight or flight mod.

“Logan, what have you done?” Oscar asked in a stern tone.

“Nothing”

“Logan, talk.” Oscar had really mastered the Dad voice, he realized. Logan was a 20 year old man, he didn’t need to explain shit, but he still crumpled as Oscar looked at him.

“For the past few months I have been trying to teach your children to say “LoLo”. They hadn’t said it yet, I swear, this was the first time.” He rambled as if he was a kid that had been found with his hand in the cookie jar.

Oscar mentally facepalmed at the confession. 

“Alright. Fine. I am mad but I will be even more upset if Honey finds out. Under no circumstances can she know that you did this, or that your name was her son’s first word. Got it?”

Without saying a word, Logan saluted the Australian in front of him and quickly left the household, shaking off the fear Oscar instilled in him but also thrilled he had been Hudson’s first word. 

3. Logan saves the day

Hudson and Frances had been sick for the past week due to a virus they had caught at a playdate. Sadly, as the three year olds got better, their parents got worse.

As Oscar and Honey tried to push through the day, they became miserable due to the fact they couldn’t shake this virus off and that it was a beautiful day out that their kids had to miss out on because their parents were stuck inside. But after both twins gave their best puppy dog eyes to their father, pleading to go out, Oscar had no choice but to call in reinforcements. 

45 minutes later, Logan had both twins in the backseat of his car as he drove to the nearest ice cream parlor.  

Two hours, some big scoops of ice cream, and one park visit later, Logan carried two sleeping toddlers in his arms as he reentered the Piastri home.

4. Distractions

(This takes place during Tensions Rise so if you haven’t read it yet, I would advise you do so)

Wanting to give Honey a moment to collect herself, Logan walked the twins to his driver’s room where he had a very comfortable couch he knew they would fall asleep fast on. He gave them water and tucked them under some extra blankets he had and right before he got up to leave he heard Frances speak up.

“Lolo, does daddy not love us?” the three year old girl asked.

“Franny, why would you think that? Of course he does.” Logan did not feel equipped to have this conversation and started to panic, wondering if he should call for Honey. 

But he knew she needed a bit of space.

“He didn’t have breakfast with us when he said he would and he made mommy cry outside when he didn’t come.” Hudson answered for his sister. 

Logan took a deep breath as he tried to come up with some kind of answer.

“Me and Osc- your dad’s jobs are hard and take up a lot of time. Sometimes things happen and plans change, but that doesn’t mean he loves you any less. Everytime he is traveling for work, he is always showing me pictures of you guys and telling stories. That is all he talks about!” Logan said, putting smiles on the two twin’s faces. “You know, when he and your mom found out they were having twins, I was one of the first people he told. We were teammates and he had such a big smile on his face during a team meeting that I forced him to tell me. Ever since then I knew he loved you both so much. Even if he hasn’t been around too much, I have no doubt he adores the two of you.”

With that, he gave the two kids a kiss on the forehead as he walked out of the room, hoping to cheer up their mother as much as he had helped them.

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