#whatever i’m still not calling you that

[pucksandpower]

MILF

Toto Wolff x wife!Reader

Summary: Toto knows his wife is a MILF … but this doesn’t mean he is okay with his son’s friends calling you that

Warnings: teenage boys doing teenage boy things

Based on this request

“Pass the schnitzel, darling,” you say to your husband as the three of you sit down for dinner. Your teenage son has just gotten home from school, and you can’t wait to hear about his day.

Toto smiles at you as he passes the platter of breaded veal. “How was school?” He asks.

Lukas shrugs as he takes a bite. “It was okay,” he mumbles through a mouthful of food.

You give him a look. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, sweetie,” you gently chide. Even though he’s almost an adult now, you still see your little boy in him.

Lukas swallows and straightens up. “Sorry, Mum.”

“So tell us about your day,” you prompt. “Learn anything new and interesting?”

Your son fidgets in his seat. “Well … some of the guys were talking about you today.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Me? What about me?”

Lukas glances uncomfortably at his father. “Just … stuff they saw online. Paparazzi photos from when we were on the yacht last month.”

Toto sets his fork down, his expression darkening. He’s no stranger to being in the public eye, but he’s always been protective of you and Lukas. “What exactly were they saying?” He asks in a carefully neutral tone.

“They, uh …” Lukas rubs the back of his neck. “They called Mom a MILF.”

“A what?” Toto sputters, while you have to suppress a laugh. You’re familiar with the crude term, given your substantially younger age compared to your husband.

“It’s not funny!” Toto says indignantly. “I won’t have people objectifying my wife like that.”

You reach over and pat his arm. “It’s okay, dear. I’m not bothered by it.” You turn back to Lukas with an amused smile. “I’m flattered those boys think your old mom’s still got it.”

“You’re not old!” Lukas protests loyally. “It’s just, you know, you’re a lot younger than Vati, and you’re really pretty, so the guys notice.”

Toto scowls, but you grin and blow your son a kiss. “Thanks, sweetie.” Your playful reaction seems to visibly relax him.

“This is unacceptable,” Toto shakes his head. “I should call the school. Get those little punks suspended for sexual harassment.”

“Oh Toto, don’t be silly,” you wave dismissively. “They’re just teenage boys. I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm.”

“It doesn’t matter!” He insists. “Your dignity and privacy should be respected, not exploited. People think because we’re in the spotlight that they can say whatever vulgar nonsense they want.”

You reach over again and lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I know it bothers you, darling. But I married you knowing full well how public our lives would be. A little crude gossip comes with the territory.”

Toto opens his mouth to retort, then pauses, some of the indignation leaving his eyes. “I just don’t want anyone disrespecting you,” he says finally.

You smile softly. Even after all these years of marriage, your heart still flutters at his protectiveness. “I know. It’s one of the many things I love about you.”

Lukas makes a face. “Ugh, gross. Can you guys not be all mushy right now?”

You laugh and blow him another kiss. “Sorry Lukas. I can’t help it — your father’s the love of my life.”

Toto smiles back at you, the anger fading from his face. “And you’re mine, schatzi.”

Your son pretends to gag. “Seriously, stop. I’m trying to eat here.”

You chuckle and spear another bite of schnitzel. “Alright, we’ll behave. Now, tell me more about the rest of your day ...”

The conversation moves on to lighter topics as you finish up dinner. You listen attentively while Lukas fills you in on the drama with his friend group and his struggles in history class.

After clearing the dishes, the three of you move to the living room. You curl up next to Toto on the couch while Lukas sprawls out on the carpet to play video games.

You close your eyes contentedly and rest your head on your husband’s shoulder. Despite the lifestyle that being married to Toto provides you with, this right here is your happy place — your little family, spending a quiet evening at home.

Toto wraps an arm around you and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Have I told you lately how lucky I am?” He murmurs.

You smile up at him. “Even after all these years, you still give me butterflies.”

“Good,” he says firmly. “I’ll tell you every day if I have to, until you’re sick of hearing it.”

Lukas groans loudly from the floor. “Could you guys be any more embarrassing?”

You and Toto both laugh. “What? I can’t tell my beautiful wife how much I love her?” He calls out in protest.

“Not when I’m right here!” Lukas complains. “Get a room or something.”

You grin mischievously. “That’s not a bad idea ...” you say, running a hand up your husband’s chest.

Toto’s eyes darken. “Minx,” he murmurs.

Lukas scrambles to his feet. “Okay, I’m out of here.” He gives you both a look of exaggerated disgust as he heads upstairs.

You and Toto chuckle as you listen to his bedroom door slam shut.

“Now, where were we?” Toto says in a low voice, pulling you closer. You bite your lip coyly as he presses his mouth to yours. No matter how many years go by, the chemistry between you is still electric.

You shift against him eagerly as the kiss deepens. His hands slide down to grip your hips, and you make a soft noise of pleasure. After nearly two decades of marriage, he knows exactly how to touch you.

“Tell me again,” you whisper when you finally break apart, slightly breathless.

Toto gazes into your eyes. “I love you,” he says sincerely. “I will always love you. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You kiss him again, tenderly this time. “I love you too, Toto. Forever.”

No matter what people say or how famous you become, your relationship has always been grounded in this — the unwavering love between you. The rest of the world falls away when you’re together.

You rest your head contentedly on his shoulder again, his arms wrapped around you. This right here, next to the man who still looks at you like you hung the moon, is home.

***

The next day after school, Lukas comes home with a few of his friends in tow. You’re just finishing up putting away the groceries when you hear the chatter of teenage voices approaching.

“Hey Mum, we’re gonna hang out downstairs,” Lukas calls out as the group of boys raids the kitchen fridge for snacks.

You smile and give them a little wave. “Hi boys. There’s more drinks in the pantry if you need it.”

The teenagers rumble acknowledgements through mouthfuls of food before thundering downstairs to your home theater room. You chuckle and shake your head. Teenage appetites are truly a phenomenon.

You’re straightening up the living room when you hear the front door open again, signaling Toto’s return from work.

“Hello, liebling,” he greets you warmly, sweeping you into an embrace.

You kiss him in welcome. “How was work today?”

“The usual madness,” he sighs. “But coming home to you makes it all worthwhile.”

You smile up at him adoringly. Even after all these years, your heart still flutters at his smooth compliments.

“Oh, Lukas has some friends over,” you mention. “They’re downstairs watching movies or playing video games.”

Toto frowns a little. “Those wouldn’t happen to be the same friends who were objectifying you?”

You pat his chest placatingly. “Now dear, we talked about this. Don’t make a fuss.”

“Hmph.” He still looks slightly disgruntled. “Well, I should at least go down and say hello.”

You follow him downstairs, where the group of teenage boys are sprawled out on the sofas engrossed in some action movie. Explosions boom from the surround sound system as CGI buildings crumble onscreen.

They look up when you and Toto enter. “Oh hey Mr. Wolff,” one of them says.

“Vati, you remember my friends right?” Lukas introduces. “Jason, Andrew, Ryan, and David.”

“Ah yes, nice to see you boys again,” Toto says smoothly.

Too smoothly.

You can sense the storm brewing beneath his polite façade.

Sure enough, as the teens’ attention returns to the movie, Toto clears his throat. “So I heard you boys were discussing my wife the other day.”

The room goes silent, save for the cinematic explosions still blaring through the speakers. The boys glance around uneasily.

“Um, we didn’t mean anything bad by it,” David finally offers timidly.

Toto raises an eyebrow. “Oh? So objectifying and sexualizing a married woman is not meant to be disrespectful?”

The teens squirm under his icy stare. You put a warning hand on your husband’s arm, but he continues.

“Let me tell you something about my wife,” he says, an edge creeping into his tone. “She is an elegant, successful, and highly intelligent woman. Not some piece of meat for you ogling schoolboys to drool over.”

The chastised boys all mumble apologies and stare fixedly at the floor.

Toto points a stern finger at them. “I trust there will be no further vulgar comments, or you won’t be welcome in this house again.”

“Yes sir,” they mutter. Lukas looks like he wants the leather couch to swallow him whole. You have to stifle a smile at your husband’s overprotective papa bear routine.

“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.” Toto straightens his suit jacket. “Now you boys enjoy your … movie.”

He turns and heads back upstairs, with you following after an apologetic smile to the shell-shocked teens.

Once you’re out of earshot, you swat his shoulder reproachfully. “Toto! Did you really need to traumatize the poor kids?”

“I didn’t traumatize them,” he huffs. “I just … explained a few things.” At your skeptical look, he amends “ … Firmly.”

You shake your head in exasperation. “You’re impossible. I thought I asked you not to make a fuss.”

He takes your hands earnestly. “I’m sorry, schatzi. I just can’t stand anyone disrespecting you. You deserve to be treated like a queen.”

You soften at the sincerity in his eyes. “Oh Toto. You’re too good to me.” You wrap your arms around him in a conciliatory hug.

He holds you close. “Nonsense. I’ll spend every day proving you’re the most important thing in the world to me.”

You snuggle against his chest, reminded yet again how lucky you are. Even when he overreacts, you know it comes from a place of devotion.

“Just promise me you’ll go easy on the boys,” you say wryly as you pull back. “I think you scared them straight for life.”

Toto smiles ruefully. “I suppose I did get a bit … intense. But the message won’t do any harm.”

You laugh and kiss his cheek. “My noble protector.”

He grins. “Proudly.”

Later, as the boys are getting ready to leave, Toto stops them at the front door.

“Before you go, I have one more thing to say,” he announces. The teens glance at each other nervously.

Toto looks each of them in the eye. “If I ever hear of you disrespecting my wife again, I won’t be so kind. You see, she’s actually a MIDF … Mother I Do Fuck.” He enunciates the words pointedly.

The teens’ eyes widen in horror, and Lukas turns bright red. “Vati!” He hisses in embarrassment.

Toto ignores him. “So I would appreciate it if you kept your crude comments to yourselves next time.” He gives them a tight smile. “Are we clear?”

The boys nod rapidly. “Yes sir. Crystal clear, Mr. Wolff,” one mumbles.

“Good.” Toto claps his hands together. “Then get home safely.”

After the front door shuts behind the fleeing teens, Lukas rounds on his father. “Oh my god, Vati! Why would you say that?”

He shrugs unapologetically. “I wanted to make sure they got the message loud and clear this time.”

Lukas just shakes his head in mortification before stomping upstairs.

You slide your arms around your unrepentant husband. “You just couldn’t resist, could you?”

“They left with a healthy dose of fear and respect,” Toto says smugly. “I think my work here is done.”

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #toto wolff #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff fic #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #toto wolff x y/n #mercedes amg f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 imagines #f1 fics

[erwinsvow]

i’m definitely projecting BUT i genuinely feel like shy!reader would have wavy hair and be so insecure about it (even tho it’s so pretty) so it’s always straightened but i just know if rafe saw it he’d fall even deeper in love with the girl!

oh 100%. lets project together angel why not. if you dont have wavy hair pls look away im sorry. but i do have wavy hair that i straighten all the time so ! you sent this to the right bitch

your hair, though you've been told so many times was pretty either way, is usually straightened several times a week, if not daily. it's easy to fall into the trap of preferring it sleek and shiny than the waves that were pretty for the first day, frizzy the next, and somehow constantly clashing with the outfit you selected for the day.

you thought straight hair was easier, looked better, went with everything. even if it wasn't true, you had bought into it for long enough, your blowdryer and flat iron your two best friends.

the first time rafe met you, your hair had been straight. it was that way on your first date, as well as your second and third, as well as every sleepover at tannyhill or early morning drive to watch the sunrise at the beach. he'd never seen your hair any other way, not realizing there was, in fact, another way for it to be seen, until today.

you and rafe had spent the first hour of the morning rolling around in his bed at tannyhill, working up a sweat, which then was washed off in the shower together. rafe gets out first, listening to his phone ring repeatedly in the distance. you finish up, washing your hair and turning the water to the hottest setting now that rafe wasn't there to complain.

when you walk back to rafe's room, he's on the bed, still on the phone. you try to dry yourself off and get dressed without giving him too much of a show, settling for one of rafe's old frat shirts and using another shirt of his to start drying your hair. he looks at confused, but you don't say anything, knowing he's still on the phone. you need at least a minute to explain cotton t-shirts and scrunching to him.

rafe finally hangs up the call with barry while you rummage through your overnight bag, realizing your flat iron and blow dryer were left behind on your bathroom counter, a result of finishing up your hair for your date yesterday.

"is sarah home?" you ask, looking up at rafe.

"don't think so. and didn't i give you a towel? why's my shirt on your head right now?"

"i forgot my hair stuff at home."

"oh," he says, walking back to his dresser and returning with something in his hand. "here." he hands you a hairbrush.

"what am i supposed to do with this?"

"you said you needed hair stuff. uh, you're welcome."

"i have a brush, rafe. i meant my dryer and my iron. do you think sarah would be mad if i used hers? is that weird, though?"

he didn't think it was that serious, but you look more upset by the second.

"what'd you need that shit for? we're not going anywhere until lunch. it'll dry by then." you stand up, taking the hair out of his shirt and trying to salvage whatever waves remained.

"i wanted to wear it straight for the club, though. my outfit, it looks better with straight hair-"

"huh?"

"and i didn't even detangle or use that conditioner, it's all at home. ugh." you keep scrunching, going to the mirror and taking a look. rafe follows behind you, eyebrows knitted in confusion while he takes a piece of curly hair between his fingers. it's pretty, the way it falls around your face and certain pieces are curlier than others. you look pretty like this, though he's sure you look pretty any which way.

"how come i didn't know your hair's like this?"

"um, i like it flat. do i have to go to the club like this?"

"i like it. s'pretty. c'mon, leave it."

you turn to face your boyfriend. like everyone else, he's just saying it to be nice.

"will you take me home to grab my stuff? please?"

"if you really want it, kid, but i think you should leave it," rafe says, bringing his hand up to your hair, stroking the pieces by your face, twirling a wave around his finger. "c'mon, for me?"

you hesitate, looking up at your boyfriend.

"but i wanna look nice for the club."

"the fuck are you talkin' about? you always look nice."

"but it's not as nice. it's messy. i like it-" rafe interrupts you, bringing his hand to your jaw the way he always does, squeezing tight but not too tight.

"stop. it looks nice. stop overthinkin' it. got it?" you nod. "s'nice. you should wear it like this more often."

"sure. whatever you say."

"that's right."

#btw is this the same anon who sent another ask in the pink font? my pink anon? #also im so sorry if this wasnt what you wanted its just what came to mind ! #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #shy reader

[lovesphases]

Could you write something where reader is best friends with Sarah and has had a crush on rafe for a long time. There’s some situation like going on vacation with the Cameron family and John b joins so the reader has to share a bed with rafe. He wakes up at night bc reader is having a wet dream, cuddled up next to/on him, grinding against his thigh. He gets really turned on and starts touching her & she wakes up. Maybe he teases her a bit like asking if she had a good dream, pointing out how wet she got his thigh and then they have sex. Reader is a bit embarrassed and shy about it. - 🧚🏻‍♂️

i love the way your brain works. also sorry i got a bit carried away. pt 2!

MDNI 18+

going on a yearly vacation with the cameron’s is not something new to you. you’d always share a room with sarah, staying up late the room filled with your giggles and hushed whispers. this time would be different though. sarah’s new boyfriend, john b would be tagging along. the new addition causing sleeping arrangements to be changed.

“what do you mean i have to share a room with rafe?” you stare at sarah, eyes nearly popping out of your head.

“it’ll be fine. rafe can just sleep on the floor!”

“no fucking way! i’m not sleeping in the same room as him!”

“pleaseeee? for me?” she clasps her hands together, giving you that look that makes you crumble everytime.

“jesus christ. fine. just this once. you owe me though.” you huff out. she lets out a loud squeal

“ohmygosh thank you so much! i definitely owe you big time!” you roll your eyes.

“yeah whatever. you’re lucky i love you.”

"i am not sleeping on the fucking floor" rafe snaps at you. irritated with the situation and ready to go to bed.

"fine i'll go find somewhere else to sleep then." you huff out crossing your arms. you begin to head towards the door when rafe calls out.

"jesus kid. this bed is big enough for the both of us to sleep and keep a good distance away from each other. what do you think m' gonna do?"

"i dunno. maybe suffocate me in my sleep or something." he lets out a laugh, he can't help but find your dramatics funny.

"just get in the fucking bed"

"fine. but keep your hands to yourself. i swear to god" you poke at him

"got it." he raises his hands in defense.

its 3 am when rafe wakes up to you practically laying on top of him, grinding on his thigh. he rubs his eyes, making sure he's awake and that this is really happening. you let out a quiet whimper as your brows furrow together. he stares down at you, a smirk forming on his face.

he allows his fingers to find your core, softly grazing over your cunt. he can feel the fabric that does little to cover you slowly becoming soaked. this pushes him over the edge as he moves ur panties to the side, slowly dragging his fingers through your folds catching on your clit. you let out a moan as your eyes begin to flutter open.

"rafe? what are you doing?"

"what am i doing? you were the one who woke me up, humping my leg like a bitch in heat. you're a cock hungry whore even when you're asleep.” you let out another moan, his fingers still rubbing at your clit.

"if you don't want this then tell me to stop." your hips begin to buck up involuntary. heat rises to your cheeks, thanking god that its dark and he can't see just how embarrassed you are. but with the pressure he's applying to your needy clit all rational thoughts leave your brain. your senses completely filled with rafe.

"rafe. please just fuck me. need it so bad." you let out a desperate whine, his teasing increasing your arousal, though still not enough.

"yeah that's what i thought." he shoves two thick fingers inside of you without any warning. causing you to take a sharp breath in. his fingers massage that spongy part that makes your head fuzzy and your eyes roll back. the band in your tummy tightening with each stroke of his fingers.

"you gonna cum?" you nod your head vigorously as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge.

"yeah? what happened to you wanting me to keep my hands to myself? over here makin' a mess all over my fingers."

"please rafe im so close. can i please cum? i need it" tears gather at your waterline. the burning in your stomach almost too much to handle.

"fuck. go ahead. cum for me baby. make a fucking mess." his words cause the band to snap, your orgasm washing over you soaking his hand and the sheets.

"good girl. that's it. let me have it." he helps you ride out your high before pulling his fingers out of your cunt. he brings his fingers to your mouth.

"gotta clean up the mess you made. yeah?"

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron prompt #drew starkey smut #drew starkey #⋆.˚ asks ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ #rafe cameron x reader #rafe imagine

[waayfo]

HOUSE OF CARDS aventurine x gn!reader

summary “a house of cards, and us inside,” a phrase that aventurine often says in between your endless arguments. you always thought that your relationship will be happy and full of affection, only to be met by illimitable arguments.

⌕ ... angst, hurt/comfort, light angst, spoilers (aventurine’s past), mentions of kakavasha, both reader & aven is tired n they broke up once in the past, arguments, gambling, pet name, anxiety ??, based on this song n my hc on this post. a/n : post for celebrating aven’s banner ! aventurine wanters will be aventurine havers :3

all day your head has been feeling dizzy after continuously hearing screams from your boss. he felt he could call and curse people whatever he wanted, not knowing that he was actually the main problem.

your body shaking violently made you feel vulnerable as you leaned on the wall next to prevent you from falling. exasperation is no longer there, easily replaced by your disgust that you can't do anything.

and that’s when you realized that there’s no smell of alcohol that always wafting through your nose. it’s strange, you think. you look around, only to be greeted by gloom and despair atmosphere.

there was only one thing that crossed your mind; “he's gambling again isn't he?” he always does it, even though his left hand always holds the chip tightly. even though he continues to doubt the blessing he received since birth.

knowing the blessings he received, you should be able to calm down; in the end replaced by restlessness doubt. what if he loses? what if he’s in trouble now? what if, what if…

and you should not doubt the blessings of gaiathra triclops, because the door next to you suddenly opened and revealed aventurine standing—while holding his injured arm.

the two of you stared at each other awkwardly for three seconds, before you opened your mouth and said, “seriously?”

You don't know whether it's because of exasperation or short of infuriation you feel right now, you immediately said that. the next thing you know, you regret it.

“what? i just came home and you greet me like that?” he scoffed.

“aven, you’re hurt.”

“of course, it’s my job afterall.” you held your forehead, feeling the dizziness appear again and this time it was more painful. “and now you act as if this is all my fault.”

you frowned at his statement. “i’m not blamming you.”

“i’m just worried because you always come home like this!”

aventurine sighed. after that he walked past you without saying anything. "at least let me treat you, just once."

your question was only answered by excruciating silence. at least answer the question.

‘no way, no way, it’s collapsing again.’

aventurine remained sitting on his king size bed which was mostly occupied by himself. he was just silent, thinking about what had just happened. i shouldn't have said it.. i shouldn't have refused.

i should have known it from beginning; we're both tired. and why do we keep trying?

aventurine is now standing, ignoring the fresh wound on his arm that he still hasn't treated. before it’s too late, he think. there is still time to apologize.

that soft knock on your bedroom door should be enough to tell you that he wants to apologize. he’s standing in front of the door with a feeling of unease that never went away, and then you opened the door.

with blurred vision and barely able to see the figure in front of you, you remained standing. "sorry," you both said it at the same time. the only words you both could say at that time.

“i’m so sorry, aven. i’m too tired that i can’t think clearly. i should always try to understand you because that's your job.” your words stopped because of your sobs. “i—“

“—a house made of cards, and stupidly, us.” aventurine stopped your words. he smiled disappointedly at himself. "we're both exhausted, and there's no one to blame.”

“i’m sorry that i’m always telling you that we can do it again. i… didn't think twice about how you feel about this,” he said.

“i always dreamed that we could live happily together like this. i’m sorry baby, it’s such a useless dream, isn’t it?”

you tried to hold back your sobs. “even if you say it’s a useless dream, just stay a little more like this. i’m okay with this.”

there will be tomorrow and we can try this again, you think. time will slow down just to let the two of you fix the mistakes in the past that once caused you to broke up.

“when i said that i don’t need you to treat my wounds, it’s because… i’m ashamed by myself; my body, my wounds, my past. i don't want your hands to touch any part of me that is despicable.” you were surprised because you never once thought he was despicable.

“aven, it's in the past, and it's not your fault.“ your hands found their way to wrap around his body. “you can rely on me now, please.”

“kakavasha.”

“please call me kakavasha from now.”

you smiled. “yes, kakavasha.”

in the end, there's nothing wrong with trying again.

#konstelasiv fanfic #aventurine honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #hsr x reader #aventurine x y/n #aventurine x you #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #hsr x y/n #hsr angst #honkai star rail x you

[keery0s]

pretty boy

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

prompt: steve isn’t used to the reader’s compliments

warnings: smut (18+) • masturbation (m) • handjob • sub steve (kinda) • friends to lovers sorta

word count: 1.4k

notes: this is kinda rushed srry

You can’t help but giggle as Steve struts out of the dressing room, his ego much larger than you anticipated. You had dragged Steve to the mall, convincing him a new wardrobe would finally get him the girlfriend he’s been so desperately searching for. You didn’t mean to make fun of his stride but you always saw right through the facade. The man was much dorkier than he looked, his ineptness masked by beauty.

“I knew you were fucking with me!” He pouts as he struggles to tug the denim vest from his shoulders.

“Steeeeve I’m sorry!” you laugh as you spring to your feet, trying to get the garment back onto him. “It looks good!” You truly meant it, though the smirk across your face didn’t help him believe that.

“The constant tormenting really isn’t good for this friendship.” He quips.

“I mean it Steve! You look pretty.” you smile, patting him on the shoulder before sitting back down. Steve scratches his head, confusion now replacing his previous annoyance.

“What?”

He raises a brow at you as he places his hands on his hips.

“What do you mean pretty?”

“You stupid, Harrington?

He met your gaze with a puzzled expression, not quite used to your compliments. Steve had been called many things but pretty was not one of them until now. He felt a little strange, a flutter in his stomach growing as he sat down.

“Pretty like….a girl, pretty?”

“If you wanna take it that way Steve! Now are you gonna buy that or what?” You sigh, sick of his fixation on a single word. He huffs, taking the vest to the register before making his way out of the store.

“Whatever…”

-

Steve gulps as you start your car. For some reason he felt a little weird about you driving him home, mind still stuck on that one word. Your mutual silence and hum of the car’s engine filled the air with an unspoken tension. He felt uneasy, not wanting to look you in the eye as you nudged his arm.

“Hey, what’s up with you?” you question, slightly alarmed by his silence. You knew how much he loved to run that mouth of his.

“I just…” his voice trails off, "what did you mean by pretty?” he glances at you before placing his eyes back on the road.

“Jesus you're still thinking about that!?” you laugh, “You must’ve liked it huh?” you tease.

“N-No!” he protests, voice shaking with uncertainty. He wasn’t sure if he even believed that answer himself, face heating up as he fidgets with his fingers in his lap.

“You like it when I call you pretty, Steve?” you prod at him, amused by his nervous state.

“S-Shut up…” He breathes, face going red as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He couldn’t help but feel his cock twitch in his jeans as he replayed your words in his head. He wasn’t used to your praise, your dynamic usually consisting of playful insults and teasing. He wasn’t sure if you actually meant the compliment, but he certainly enjoyed hearing it come out of your mouth regardless. He was thankful you weren't onto him, not noticing the bulge quickly starting to form in his pants. He lets out a shaky breath as you pull up to his house, placing his hand over his crotch to conceal his unwanted excitement.

“Can I hang out for a little? We can watch a movie or something.” you suggest as he unfastens his seatbelt.

“Nope! I’ve got an early shift at work tomorrow.” he lies, blinking nervously.

You barely have a chance to say goodbye before he slams the passenger door closed and heads for his front door, clearly in a hurry to get home. Weird.

-

Steve pants as he struggles to get out of his clothes fast enough, kicking off his shoes while simultaneously unbuttoning his pants and yanking them down his legs. He gets his shirt stuck over his head, falling to his bed blindly before successfully getting it off and throwing it across the room. He felt guilty, cock aching at the thought of you. He didn’t know why one stupid word got him so worked up. It felt so good hearing you say it…he wanted more. What else could you call him? Maybe you could touch him too, make him feel good. He finally wraps a hand around his cock, grunting as he squeezes himself. He moans your name, too caught up in his own thoughts to hear his door open.

“Steve you left your-” you gasp as you see him leaned against his headboard, dick in hand.

“What the fuck?!” He yells, throwing his blanket over his lower half. His face goes red….did you hear him?

“I- Um-” he stutters.

You toss his forgotten vest on the floor, squinting as you think about what you had just heard.

“Did you….say my name?”

“What?! No! That’s so weird that you would say that!” he scoffs. What a shitty liar. You walk over to his bed, sitting beside him. You watch as his chest rises and falls, breathing heavy from his alone time being cut short.

“It’s okay if you did Steve. It’s fine.” you reassure him. You had a strong feeling you caused this.

“Why?” he whispers as he holds his head down, struggling to make eye contact.

“Is it because of earlier?” you ask, grabbing his chin to make him look at you. A blush spreads across his face as his eyes focus on your lips. He nods,

“Yeah.” he breathes, voice quiet and cautious. he sucks in a sharp breath as you press a hand against his chest

“Tell me what you want Steve…” you whisper. You watch closely as he leans into your touch, desperate and docile. He wasn’t used to being asked what he wanted. He wasn’t used to someone being so gentle with him. He was completely in the palm of your hand.

“You want someone to take care of you Stevie?” you ask, caressing his cheek. He leans in to kiss you but you back away, leaving him unsure of what to do next.

“Lay down.” you instruct.

He leans back, head resting against his pillows as he looks up at you. His lashes flutter as his breathing quickens with anticipation. He had never really thought about you this way, but it all seemed to happen so naturally. You pull the blanket from off of him, marveling at his size as a grin tugs at your lips. You go to wrap a hand around his twitching cock, precum beading at the head. As he feels your touch, his hips immediately buck up into your grasp, a whine falling from his lips.

“Such a pretty cock, Stevie…” you tease, making his eyes squeeze shut in response to the adored word. He writhes against the bed as you stroke him slowly, back slightly arching as he tries to drive himself deeper into your hand.

“Feels good huh?” you ask. He nods in response, letting out a choked moan as he tries to speak.

“Use your words Steve.”

“Yeah…feels so good.” he breathes as he grips the bedsheets.

“Look at me.” you demand, grabbing his face with your free hand. His eyes open slowly, tears welling up in them as the pleasure grows overwhelming. You pump him faster as your eyes meet with his, a cry coming from him loudly.

“Do you wanna cum?” you ask as you wipe a tear from his cheek.

“Please–p-please” he begs, his release approaching quickly with each word from you.

“You wanna cum Steve?” you repeat in a whisper, stroking him faster as he struggles to thrust up into your hand. He’s almost over the edge, cock pulsating from his near climax. You take your hand in his as you continue to jerk him off with the other. He squeezes desperately as he finally hears it,

“Cum for me Stevie.” you plead, grip around his length tightening as he bucks into your hand one last time. His body goes tense with pleasure as the bliss of his orgasm washes over him, a cry escaping his lips. You wipe up the rest of his cum on your hand with your fingers, licking them clean as he watches you in awe. He pants as he stares at you, in shock of what had just transpired.

“Thank you…” he manages as he runs a shaky hand through his hair.

“You’re welcome, pretty boy.”

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #stranger things smut #keery0s #keery0s writes #ns/fw #sub!steve #sub!steve harrington

[alittlebitofsainz]

- told her you were just a friend -

prompt: “told her you were just a friend, told her I was homesick, I hadn’t thought of home twice.”

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: being away from home for this long should’ve felt more difficult, but somehow, with lando by your side, anywhere feels like home. still, you can’t tell your mum just yet.

a/n: inspired by ‘the band and I’ by maisie peters :)

masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection

“yes, don’t worry, I’m remembering to drink plenty of water. okay, love you too, speak soon.”

you hung up the call, unaware of a pair of eyes lingering on you from across the room.

“who were you talking to?”

the sound of lando’s voice made you jump, head whipping round to look at him leaning against the door frame with his arms folded across his chest.

“just my mum.” you replied with a small shrug, watching as lando’s features shifted into the slightest expression of concern.

“everything okay?” he asked, and you were touched by the way he cared.

“everything’s fine. she’s just worried about me, I’ve never been away from home for this long.”

lando nodded at that, moving across the room to join you on the sofa of his drivers room. more and more often you found yourself in here to escape everything, get a bit of peace and quiet, or, as it happened today, a private place to take a phone call.

“she asked if I had ‘met any boys’.” you chuckled, gaze following lando across the room, a small smile on your face when you admitted the topic of conversation chosen by your mother.

“and what did you tell her?” lando angled himself towards you, propping an elbow on the back of the sofa. a wry smile danced across his face, and you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to slap it off or kiss it off. he knew the answer already, he was just teasing you by asking. whatever was going on between you and lando, you’d both decided not to tell anyone, not yet, at least. and unfortunately, that included your mum, who was a little prone to gossiping.

“I said no, of course.” you replied with an arched eyebrow.

“and she believed you?” came lando’s reply, a soft laugh escaping his lips, reaching out to take one of your hands in his, absentmindedly playing with your fingers as you continued to talk.

“she did ask about you, specifically. I send her a lot of pictures from the race weekends - you tend to be in most of them.” you admitted, eyeing up lando cautiously, trying to read his reaction.

“and what did you say to that?” he asked, his voice low, questioning, eyes still twinkling with mischief.

“I told her you were just a friend.”

lando chuckled at that, repeating a muttered just a friend under his breath. you couldn’t help but mirror his laugh, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the statement.

“yeah, I’m not sure whether she believed that one.” you added, with a grin.

“if we were just friends…” lando murmured, leaning over the sofa to hook a finger under your chin, guiding your face up to meet his, “… would I do this?”

he trailed kisses down the side of your face, across your cheek, pressing one to the corner of your mouth before capturing your lips with his. you giggled softly into the kiss, allowing your eyes to close, one hand finding its way up to cup his cheek in your palm. you’d gotten used to this, secret moments behind closed doors. you didn’t mind, for the moment; you knew the pressure that came with being lando’s girlfriend, knew the scrunity you’d be under.

the next time your mum called, you might be more inclined to talk about the boy who’d captured your heart and made your whole life light up. but for now, your relationship belonged to just you, and no one else.

a little part 2 is out now :)

and the final part!

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 imagine

[literaila]

what was readers (atf) reaction to finding out tsumiki being cursed and put in coma? probably felt like she’s failed at protecting her children after years of balancing their lives and safety. hopefully sobbed in gojos arms 😭

“satoru,” you croak out.

your voice is nothing but a mere whisper. it’s a drop of water in the ocean, a footstep on the expanse of the world.

you’ve never felt so small. you’ve never felt like your actions mean nothing more. never more helpless, than this.

“hey,” satoru says, and you know that he can tell that there’s something wrong. “what’s going on?”

“can you come home?”

“yeah, yeah of course i can, baby. i’ll call ijichi to pick me back up. what’s happening?”

“satoru,” you say, again, because there’s almost nothing left.

“hey. hey. we’ll fix it, whatever it is. talk to me.”

“tsumiki’s in the hospital.”

your hands clench around the steering wheel. there might be an ethical discussion to be had about the danger of driving with tears in your eyes, talking on the phone.

but you could give less than a damn about safety, right now. right now—it just doesn’t matter.

there’s a pause.

you can hear satoru breathing.

“what?”

“megumi—“ you wipe your eyes, speeding up. the law can be damned too. “megumi said that she wouldn’t get out of bed this morning—that he couldn’t wake her up. and so he called me and then i—“ you stop, gasping for air that’s practically unreachable. “i told him to—“ but you break off again, because your throat is burning.

“what hospital?”

“i don’t—i can’t remember the name.”

“okay.”

“i’ll—i’ll send it to you. when i get there. im on my way now.”

“are you driving?”

“yeah.”

“okay, baby. send it to me when you can.”

your eyes well up once again. “did you finish your mission?”

“no. i’d just gotten here. it’s probably better that way, ijichi isn’t far. i’ll be there soon as i can, okay?”

“okay. i—i’m sorry.”

“why are you sorry?”

you can’t hold back a gasp, a sob, any iteration of failure that might fit. “satoru,” you say, wishing so badly that he was right there with you. “i should’ve stayed home. megumi shouldn’t have found her, he shouldn’t have—“

“you think this is you fault?”

“i just—i shouldn’t have left them alone. what if—“

“no.” satoru is almost whining, but not quite. “megumi isn’t six anymore, sweetheart. he’s fourteen. he’s alone all of the time. how were you supposed to know—“

“i’m their mom. i’m supposed to protect them from stuff like this.”

“you can’t control when something bad happens.”

“i can’t—she’s—“

“we’re going to figure it out. tsumiki’s strong—she’s probably the strongest of all of us. she’ll be fine.”

“you don’t know that.”

“i do.”

“why’d this have to happen to her? to our little—“ you stop, feeling that digging in the pit of your soul. that tiny little chant—failure, failure, failure.

“i don’t know,” satoru whispers. “i’m sorry.”

“why are you sorry?”

“i don’t know,” he whispers again.

“is ijichi there yet?”

“almost.”

“okay.”

“hey,” he says, again, in some kind of secret language. “it’s going to be fine.”

“okay.”

“are you still driving, baby?”

“i’m almost there. one, two minutes.”

“want me to stay on the phone?”

“yes.”

“okay. i’m right here. i’m almost there,” and he says it over and over.

hoping that maybe it’ll come true.

though, you’re not quite sure that satoru will ever get there fast enough.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #a typical family #satoru gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo satoru x you

[harrywavycurly]

What You Deserve Part 8: You Have Five

Masterlist: Here

CW: Mentions of toxic past relationship

Tag List: @littlered0000 @saramelaniemoon @ali-r3n @sapphire4082 @sweetmoonlove0214 @eddies-girl-22 @darknesseddiem @peaches-roses-sins @blckburd @comeonatmebruh @daisy-munson @cultish-corner @mrsjellymunson @aol19 @micheledawn1975 @2000babies @marshmallowgem @ang3lc @angelina16torres-blog @transparentenemypenguin @alilstressyandlotdepressy @josephquinnsfreckles

A/N: You will get to see what Eddie said to William don’t worry, and I know some might think we moved on too quickly but this isn’t the last time the William situation is brought up in this story. Anywayyyy I hope y’all enjoy✨

“Good morning sweetheart did you-” “you…you stayed…with me?” “Oh uh well I didn’t want you to wake up in a room you didn’t recognize and be all alone so…yeah…but don’t worry I slept in the chair in the corner.” “You didn’t have to do that…you didn’t have to do any of it…I’m sorry.” “Please stop apologizing…what happened last night and what happened any other night with him isn’t your fault okay? You didn’t do anything wrong.” “I should’ve moved after I broke up with him…I know what he’s like and…and how he handles things and I…I just stayed where he could get to me…I’m such an idiot.” “You are many things sweetheart but an idiot isn’t one of them.” “You have to say that because you’re my…my-” “Eddie…I’m your Eddie.” “Yeah…you’re my Eddie and…you have to be nice to me.” “I don’t have to be nice to you…I’m nice to you because that’s how you deserve to be treated…I’m sorry that others haven’t been as kind to you but I’m here now so…you don’t have to worry about that anymore.” “Yeah…for now at least.” “Don’t do that…don’t talk about this as if it’s ending soon because it’s not…it’s only just begun.” “It’s only just begun and here I am…in your bedroom because you had to come save me from my asshole ex boyfriend who likes to…to get drunk and bang on my front door until he gets in so he can…tell me how mad he is and how…how horrible I am and…and if I’m lucky it’ll end with just yelling.” “You could’ve called me the day after I took you to work the first time and I would’ve come…you are worth saving and I’m so..so sorry you have ever been in a situation like that but I promise you won’t ever have to deal with anything like that again.” “You can’t make that promise Eddie…he’s just going to come back.” “Oh…trust me sweetheart he won’t be coming back.” “You..you said you wouldn’t hurt-” “I didn’t hurt him…I swear I didn’t even touch him.” “What did you say to him?” “That’s not important…would you like some breakfast? I could make you something.” “Uhm…sure…yeah that sounds good.” “Want me to bring it to you or would you like to eat in the kitchen with me?” “I’ll eat with you..” “Oh and by the way this isn’t my bedroom…this is a guest bedroom…I wasn’t sure how comfortable you’d feel waking up in my bed and I want you to be as comfortable as possible while you’re here.” “Oh..this is nice…for a guest bedroom.” “I’m glad you like it…I’ll let you get dressed and I’ll just be in the kitchen okay?” “Okay…thank you Eddie.” “You’re welcome sweetheart.” “So…you have five.” “You look lovely…I have five what? Oh how do pancakes sounds? That’s about all I’m good for when it comes to breakfast…besides a bowl of cereal.” “Bedrooms…pancakes are fine..I love pancakes.” “Well one of them is an office so…” “It was still made to use as a bedroom so…you have five.” “Did you count them on your way to the kitchen?” “No…when I came over the other night for dinner you gave me the tour and I just remembered you said you didn’t know how many bedrooms you had…” “well thank you for paying such good attention…coffee?” “Yes please one-” “I know how you like your coffee sweetheart.” “Oh..right.” “Go get comfortable on the couch while I make breakfast…the remote to the tv is on the coffee table and you can put it on whatever you want.” “Really?…first the buttons in the car and…now the remote?” “If it’s too much for you then that’s fine…just know it’s there if you feel like turning it on.” “You’re…so not real…” “I heard that.”

#what you deserve #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson au #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson series #sugar daddy!eddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #Eddie Munson #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #my little dungeon master baby

[starieq]

You make a present plan 2.0!

day 4 of an explosive birthday celebration! You were looking through some old boxes you had in your parent’s garage for whatever reason, probably to bring back some awesome childhood memories, until you stumble across some old trading cards you found in a very decorated box. You decided to open one for fun until you get an All Might one! You first thought about how katsuki has one displayed on a shelf in his room from when he got one. But you wanted to make his 18th birthday present 2.0 as great as the recipe book! 

You remembered, wait, you know All Might, Katsuki knows All Might, and Izuku knows All Might. Why don’t you get it signed? It’ll be a special All Might card cause it came from you. But it’s always special cause it came to you. 

You grab your phone from your back pocket to call Izuku.

ring ring ring

“Hi y/n! What’s up? Something wrong? No, you would have called Kacchan because he’s your boyfriend, or he didn’t answer,-“ there he goes again. You honesty think it’s a little funny.

You giggle, “no izuku, I’m fine. Thanks though.  I just need favor to ask!”

Izuku sighs into the phone, “okay good, but what’s the favor?” 

The next day, you walk to All Mights office at UA and knock on the door.

“Who is it??” He says slumped back in his chair.

“Y/n! I have a favor to ask!” 

“Oh, young y/n! Come in!” 

You open the door the door and walk over the All Might.

“Hey All Might, I know your days of signing things as a pro is over, but can you pretty pretty please sign this card for Katsuki since it’s his birthday on Saturday and I want him to have a card signed from me so he can always remember me?” 

“Oh! Of course!” He says, Turing into his All Might form. “I would love to sign young Bakugos present! Gimme the card!” 

After he signs the card, you go to the store to get a case for it. You keep it inside your phone case so nobody steals it. You go inside the store to see what case fits the card and find the perfect one. 

When you’re walking back to the entrance, you get a call. 

Caller ID; Katsuki🧡💥

“Why the hell are you at the store again?” God he’s so nosy. 

“I was uhm, getting some new socks! Cause the needed some more! Hah..!” 

Wow, that sounded believable. “And why are you still looking at my location, freak!” You giggle a bit.

“Shut it brat! Just come back soon. Don’t want ya getting kidnapped or some shit.” 

You can’t help but giggle at that. 

“Yea, yea. I’ll be fine Kats! See you in a bit!” You hang up the phone and go right into your dorm room to hide the card and the case under your bed. 

:a/n; hihi! I had really fun writing this! Thanks for letting me be apart of this! I put a little of everyone’s so far into this, so, sorry if it’s offensive. I cant wait for the finish product, and when everyone’s is done! Love ya! ❤️

taggies!;

- @gina239

- @mystic60

- @meowze4r

- @icedemon1314

- @bigsimpo343

- @ah-mya

- @whezdostuff

- @berry-vioo

- @seonne

- @slayfics

- @food8me

- @katsuisbaby

- @azzo0

- @kieran-rhoades

- @xnorthstar3x

-@zanarkandskylines

-@queenpiranhadon

ᴅᴀʏ ᴏɴᴇ: Coming April 14th - @zanarkandskylines

ᴅᴀʏ ᴛᴡᴏ: Coming April 15th - @xbabyd0lli3x

ᴅᴀʏ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ: Coming April 16th - @angels-fantasy

ᴅᴀʏ ꜰᴏᴜʀ: Coming April 17th - @starieq

ᴅᴀʏ ꜰɪᴠᴇ: Coming April 18th - @lowkeyremi

ᴅᴀʏ ꜱɪx: Coming April 19th - @queenpiranhadon

ᴅᴀʏ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ: Coming April 20th - @cashmoneyyysstuff

#starieq #an explosive birthday collab event #katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo #bakugou x you #bakugo katuski #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo mha #bnha bakugou #bnha #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bakugo katsuki x reader

[hiraethwrote]

just come home - satoru gojo

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[satoru gojo - f!reader] ✧ summary: you've prepared a nice dinner for the two of you to have a nice date night, but when he never shows up, you've had enough. ✧ cw: angst, cursing, breaking stuff, betrayal, Satoru not being the best boyfriend, mention of insecurities, no use of y/n, somewhat proofread ✧ word count: 2.7k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

For weeks and weeks, you had expressed a desire for the two of you to have a date night but there was always a reason for why he didn’t have the time; I’ve got a mission. Shoko needed my help. I already promised Suguru I would go. Not tonight darling, I’m too tired. It broke your heart a little every time, but you knew the kind of responsibility that rested on his shoulders. You did not have the conscience to start complaining, even though you so desperately wanted to.

However, whatever he had planned this time fell through and he finally had an evening available. You had jumped at the opportunity and made a casual request while you were doing the dishes. “How about I make us a nice dinner instead? Make an evening out of it?” You'd been somewhat nervous when you’d made the request, scared he’d have some other reason not to be able to attend. But when you’d turned to look at him with hopeful eyes, you’d been met by his kind ones and a gentle smirk on his lips. Carefully, he had grabbed your chin between his fingers and pulled you closer. “I’d love to, darling,” he answered genuinely and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. Your stomach had instantly been filled with familiar butterflies.

So when the day arrived, the two of you had arranged for you to have dinner ready when he got home at seven and your timing was impeccable as you placed the finishing touches on the dinner five minutes before Satoru was supposed to walk through the door. Giddy with excitement, you lit the two candles you had placed on the table and sat down in your seat. Your excitement quickly turned into worry when fifteen minutes passed and there was still no sign of him. It didn’t have to mean anything, he wasn’t exactly known for being on time. It wasn’t until an hour had passed you felt the sadness and disappointment take over you. Then another hour passed, and another, and another. For nearly four hours you sat on the dining chair, staring at the door, waiting for your boyfriend to come home.

“Fuck it,” you whispered to yourself as you finally stood up, throwing your napkin on the table. The candles you’d lit had nearly burned down, and the untouched meal you’d prepared had turned cold long ago. As you noticed the apartment had turned dark, you felt the sadness wash over you and the tears started to well up in your eyes. Quickly you blew out the candles and made your way straight to bed. You wrapped yourself in your blanket and tried to blink away the tears, taking one last look at your phone to see if you’d missed a text or a call. Nothing.

It had always pained you when he hadn’t been able to make time for one evening for just the two of you, but you never found it in yourself to blame him. He was the Satoru Gojo after all. It was more than understandable that he was needed and wanted at all places all the time. However, somewhere inside, you felt as if he could have been able to take one night off. But you would never argue with him on the matter because, truthfully, you were beyond terrified he would toss you aside the second someone better came along. You felt so extremely lucky to be able to call Satoru your boyfriend, but there was no hiding the fact he could have anyone he wanted, but he had you. Satoru wasn’t just the most powerful being in the universe, but he was also so extremely gorgeous and had enough charisma for all of Tokyo.

But this was it. You couldn’t do it anymore. This was the moment you realised you wanted someone who would undoubtedly match your devotion. You’d held onto the hope of that person being Satoru for too long, but you’d made enough excuses for him now.

With this thought in mind, your heart ached and the tears fell quietly against your pillow, you eventually fell into a calm sleep.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You woke up with a small jolt at the sound of the front door being close shut. The clock on your nightstand showed 01:37, nearly seven hours after he was supposed to be home. You heard his footsteps come closer and closer, until you felt him lay down in the bed beside you and snake his arm around your waist. When you felt him place a soft kiss on your temple, the anger began to fill your body. “You awake?” He spoke softly, his voice slightly muffled against your hair.

Unbelievable. Fuelled by anger and frustration, you wiggled out of his grip and immediately exited the bedroom, desperate to find somewhere to put all your emotions. Looking over at the failed dinner, you decided to start cleaning it up, reminded again it had all gone to waste. Not even two minutes after you’d left him in the bed, he was standing in the doorway behind you.

“Babe, are you okay?” The audacity of his question made you drop the plates in the sink, causing a ruckus before turning around to face him, resting a hand on your hip.

“Does it seem to you that I’m okay?” Your voice was already quivering from all the emotions you were feeling, but you were determined to not break just yet.

Satoru was taken aback by the intense tone of your voice and couldn’t remember you ever talking to him this way. Carefully he began to approach you, but the look you gave him made him stop in his tracks instantly, staying put by the doorway. “Look, I’m really sorry about tonight.” His voice wasn’t disingenuous, but there was a simplicity in it that made you scoff.

“If that’s what you’re starting with, you can save it.” He felt himself flinch just the slightest at your voice and he began to feel worried what might come out of your mouth next.

“I was hanging with Suguru and Shoko. Shoko had to show us something and I couldn’t just leave. But it’s just dinner, we can do it another night.” His tone showed you he wasn’t by any means mocking the situation, but he was more interested in explaining why he didn’t show up than show consideration.

“Just dinner?” He instantly knew what he had said was a mistake. “Is it just dinner that I spent hours preparing this for us? Is it just dinner that this was supposed to be our first date in nearly a year? Is it just dinner that you’re seven hours late and couldn’t even bother to let me know you weren’t coming home?”

And awkward silence filled the room where you just stood there looking at each other. Satoru couldn’t keep his eyes off you, who had now crossed your arms over your rapidly heaving chest. He searched his mind to find the right words to say, but just felt his mouth run dry. He now understood how much he had screwed up, even though he himself had genuinely only thought of the evening as “just dinner”.

“What, no snarky comment? No funny comeback?” You spoke, waiting impatiently for him to open his mouth. “Fucking say something!” You caught him off guard when you grabbed one of the wineglasses you had served along with dinner and hurled it in his direction, hitting the wall beside his head and shattering on impact. “You always know exactly what to say and now it the time you finally decide to shut up?”

“I’m sorry,” he forced out, his voice slightly cracking. You just looked at him, taking in the sight of your boyfriend who now looked so unlike himself. Normally, he stood so tall and proud, his smile never faltering. But now, the person staring back at you, was a fragile human being who didn’t know up from down. You felt your anger begin to turn back into sadness again at the sight of him and it took every ounce of willpower not to surrender yourself to him.

“Don’t be sorry, Satoru! Be better! Be my boyfriend!” As your emotions had shifted, so had your tone. There was no anger anymore, just a desperate plead. It wasn’t just in your voice one could tell how upset you were, it was also evident on your entire body. Satoru had noticed how your frame had turned less hostile towards him and saw his opportunity to approach you. When he wasn’t met with yet another look that could kill, he kept going until he was standing in front of you.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise. We can have the dinner date tomorrow, I’ll stand for the cooking,” he spoke softly, carefully sliding his hands along your upper arms.

“This isn’t about the dinner,” you burst out, shaking away his hands and stepping away again. “It’s so much bigger than that. Can’t you see that?”

He could hear it in your voice you were choking back the sobs that were harbouring in your throat. Throughout your two year relationship, he had never seen you this upset before. And if he had, he had never been the reason for your sorrow. Just the idea of being the cause for your turmoil broke his heart, and he could feel his own tears fighting their way to the corner of his eyes.

“Satoru, I deserve to be with someone who is dying to be with me as much as I am dying to be with you.” He saw the first tear fall down your face. “I don’t want to be in a relationship where I give everything of myself, and not receive the same in return.”

In the middle of your speech, you found yourself reminiscing of how he used to be in the relationship. In the beginning, he worshipped the ground you walked on. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you, and his friends grew tired of how he wasn’t able to shut up about you. There was no doubt that you were his world, and he made it known to every person he came across that you were. You couldn’t recall when it had changed. Maybe it had happened gradually, making it harder to pick up on.

“When did you stop caring for me?” Your voice finally cracked, and a small sob escaped you. He instantly felt his shoulders fall, and his mouth slightly agape in shock.

The answer to your question was easy; never. He remembered being captivated by you the very first moment he laid his eyes on you and he knew he had to get to know you. It didn’t take long until he knew he wanted to be with you, forever if he could. There wasn’t a single thing about you he didn’t love with his entire being. He loved how your nose scrunched when you laughed, and how you subconsciously hummed to yourself while you were making dinner, how you took the quickest showers ever but still ended up spending two hours in the bathroom doing basically nothing. He also admired how kind and understanding you were, always sacrificing your own needs and desires for others. If anything, he only cared for you more and more as time went on.

But now he was looking at you, seeing your shoulders bounce with every sob and sniffle. Even with your makeup smudged, hair messy from sleep and tear stains running down your cheeks, you were beautiful. You were easiest the most beautiful girl he’d ever had the privilege of laying his eyes on. All he wanted was to pull you into his arms and comfort you, promising everything was going to work out. He was desperate to feel your body against his, but he knew you wouldn’t allow it.

“Just tell me what I have to do and I’ll do it. I’ll fix it.” Now he was the one pleading, making it even harder for you to not give in and let it all slide.

“You can’t,” you whispered. He felt his breath begin to quicken and he sensed where this was going. “Satoru-” he closed his eyes at the sound of his name leaving your lips so softly.

“Please,” he whispered back before opening his eyes again to meet your gaze.

“I have given you absolutely all that I have to offer, and it still doesn’t seem to be enough. There’s not a single living creature on this planet who has seen all the sides of me that I have showed you. I have given you my mind, my heart, my soul, my body-” you were cut off by one of your sobs. “And you can’t even make it home to dinner.” As the severity of the situation had set in, Satoru had also begun to cry.

He knew it was unfair of him, but he couldn’t hold back any longer. He walked right up to you and grabbed your face gently with both his hands and forced you to look at him. He stared into your wet eyes and felt your body shake from crying. “Please don’t do this,” he rushed to say, never having uttered a more desperate plead in his life. His heart skipped a beat when he felt your hands graciously wrap around his wrists, reminding him it was the first time that evening you had touched him. As a response, he instinctively leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours.

“I’m not waiting around for you to find a better option and leave me-“

“That won’t happen!” Satoru interrupted you. “I promise, just please, please, please don’t do this.” He felt you pull away from his forehead as you crouched away. At the same time you reluctantly removed his hands from your face. Every inch of his body wanted to fight against it, and never have his hands leave your face ever again. He knew he had messed it up for real this time. Once you let go of his wrists, he’d lose the one girl he had truly loved.

“I want it so bad to be you. But I can’t continue to ruin myself for you, Satoru.” The silence hit you, and it was as if you were both too scared to say another word. It was only Satoru’s quiet sniffles that filled the room.

It was a bittersweet sensation to have him stand so close to you, but having such a sad scenario play out. You still had a loose grip on his wrists, knowing you had to let go of them sooner or later. But you just didn’t want to. It felt as if as long as you stayed quiet, you could stay in this form of limbo where you didn’t have to face what was to come. Some part of you wished you could accept living this way, because you wanted nothing more than to have Satoru in your life. But you knew it wasn’t fair to yourself to keep going like this.

“I’m going to stay with a friend tonight,” You broke the silence, causing Satoru to start crying again. Hesitantly, you finally let go of his wrists and took a small step back, letting you get a better look at him. The intensity in his cerulean eyes had only been amplified by his tears. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you continued to speak. “I’ll have someone pick up my stuff sometime this week.”

Satoru continued to plead, beg and cry for you not to leave. You had to actively block him out to be able to leave the apartment. As you made you way to the door, he followed you close behind, the tears falling like waterfalls.

“I’m sorry,” you said, barely a whisper as you opened the door and left him. The second the door closed, it felt as if you were sucked into a vacuum without a single sound to be heard. It was only disturbed when you heard a loud smash come from inside the apartment, bringing you back to reality before you ran down the stairs and left.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

a/n: sooo i am a sucker for angst. its definitly the genre i read the most, so probably expect a lot of angst lol. doesnt mean i wont write other stuff

#satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru imagine #satoru gojo imagine #satoru oneshot #satoru gojo oneshot #satoru gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #saturo gojo x y/n #jjk satoru #jjk saturo gojo #gojo satoru / reader #jjk imagine #jjk imagines #jjk oneshot #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu jaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen oneshot

[littlespoonevan]

I watched the first three seasons of 911 back when that was all that had aired and just didn’t keep watching after the break between seasons for whatever reason. I also didn’t really get buddie, I just thought it was a beautiful friendship. I’m now on a rewatch and just got to the end of season 4 and boy am I all in, Buck’s reaction to Eddie getting shot and the aftermath really made me get it. Anyway, I was wondering if you have any fic recs for a buddie newbie? I’m probably gonna speed through the rest of the show in a few days and need something else to occupy me hahah

hey bud, welcome back to the world of 911!! 🥰 okay so i have some previous fic recs that i've posted here and i also have 489 bookmarks on ao3 which you can have a scroll through here (i only ever bookmark something for rereading or reccing purposes so can confirm i've read and loved them all)

but i'll do my best to make a somewhat cohesive list below of some of my personal faves. i have no doubt i'll probably leave some out accidentally but they'll definitely be in my bookmarks so 100% check those out too!! ❤️

The Nearness of You by allisonRW96 / @homerforsure

Eddie reassured himself that he could do this. Other teams coming in were probably going to be staying at the same hotel in the same double rooms and it was very possible that none of them were going to be having sex. Or even lying awake at night thinking about it. Or: Buck and Eddie go on a work trip.

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania / @hmslusitania

“We’re here for our grandson,” Helena says. “Chris is still sleeping,” Buck says. “I meant, we’re here to take him back to Texas,” Helena clarifies. “Yeah,” Buck says. He’s too tired, way too tired to be tactful. “Over my dead body.” -- An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed. While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.

To Build a Home We Deconstruct Our Rituals by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels /@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

After the shooting, Eddie realizes he needs to put some things in place. Like who will get his assets if he dies. Who will speak for him if he ends up in a coma. What might happen if his family contests Buck's guardianship. Luckily, he's got a simple easy-peasy solution that won't result in insanity, catastrophe, or heartbreak: Marry Buck.

standing on the brink of emptiness by woodchoc_magnum / @woodchoc-magnum

In which Eddie is struggling in the aftermath of being shot, learning how to take care of himself and realising he's in love with Buck; and Buck is dating Taylor, taking care of Eddie and Christopher and trying to figure out why he's so goddamn confused about everything.

across our great divide (a glorious sunrise) by catchingpapermoons 

“We’re working on it,” Maddie explains, shooting Chimney a look. He nods seriously. “In couples therapy.” “Huh,” Eddie says, and then he thinks about it. "Do you think Buck and I would benefit from couples therapy?" — or, Eddie gets Buck to come to couples therapy with him.

darling, the future's better than yesterday by rarakiplin (gmontys)

Eddie, ten years younger, in this awful 2010, blinks up at him. He's still sitting slumped on the curb, and for a second Buck thinks he might tell him to fuck off, but then his eyes fall shut and there’s something — aching and painfully vulnerable in the bend of his mouth, the faint tension in his brow. “My…um, girlfriend, I guess. She’s pregnant.” “Holy shit,” Buck says. - or, buck deals with some wonky dimensional/time travel and then breaks up with his girlfriend. eddie, obviously, is involved.

i'm here (i’m yours for the taking) by farfromthstars / @buckactuallys

“Everyone!” Around forty heads turn, and Buck shifts on his feet uncomfortably at the attention. “This is my old friend Buck and his husband, Eddie.” “Uh,” Buck makes, turning to Eddie with wide eyes. Eddie's looking just as stunned. “Connor, I think you got–” He cuts himself off when Eddie wraps an arm around his waist. ~ at the winter wedding of an old friend, buck and eddie pretend to be married to each other. the plan has no weaknesses, obviously, not even mistletoe or anyone’s secret feelings… they call it the season of giving i'm here, i'm yours for the taking

Your Fingerprints Smeared on My Heart (Lead Me Back to You) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

In 1880, Evan Buckley of the arriviste set is sent out west to oversee his family's railroad and recover from a broken heart - and meets Eddie Diaz, cowboy. When fate tears them apart, they make a promise: find each other again. In 2018, Buck walks into his fire station in Los Angeles - and meets Eddie Diaz, new recruit.

no kingdom to come by waywardrenegades

Family, FaceTime, guilt trips, phone calls, church, heart healthy meals, and learning how to let yourself be happy. Whatever that looks like. or; when his father experiences a health scare, Eddie flies to El Paso.

when i was shipwrecked (i thought of you) by catchingpapermoons 

Buck walks toward Jee-Yun’s room, still talking, and Christopher trails after him, asking excited questions in response, and Eddie’s smile grows. He wants this forever. Everything, every part of it; Buck, Christopher, and him—that’s all he needs. And— Oh. Oh no. He shuts his eyes for a moment, inhaling sharply. He’s looking at Buck, and feeling something strictly not platonic at all. or: Eddie needs to learn how to let himself feel, and one step at a time, he learns how to do just that. (And he falls in love with Buck along the way.)

i don't swim and you're not in love by hattalove / @hattalove

She turns to Eddie and says something else, but Buck is busy fighting the headrush he gets at the sound of Ana Flores calling Eddie and Christopher 'the boys'. Like they belong to her already. God, what’s wrong with him? What is this? or, eddie cooks, chris domesticates a slug, and buck tries to figure out why he hates his best friend's girlfriend. to everyone's immense shock and surprise, it goes badly.

everything's coming up milhouse by hammersmiths / @bucktommys

LAFD Updates (@L*A*F*D_Metro) LAFD Alert: Red-level traffic on Gardiner Road this morning. If you are trying to get into the city centre consider taking Westerley Lane. buck 🔥🔥 (@firebuck) so true bestie or, Eddie mans the LAFD Twitter account. Buck tries to be supportive.

said i couldn't stay, but it's different now by hattalove

“I think,” he says, watching Karen pull Hen out onto the dance floor, their eyes never leaving each other’s, “I think I’m just—sad.” Maybe. That feels like a close enough word to describe this gaping maw right in the center of his chest. It’s only really there sometimes, taking little bites out of him, easy enough to ignore, but today is worse. “About being single at a wedding,” Eddie says, not a question. Buck shrugs. “Sounds stupid when you put it that way.” or, the one with the four weddings (feat. a drunk karen wilson, shania twain, a single cheerio, and some confessions over cubed fruit).

cause i'm tired of sleeping alone by rarakiplin (gmontys)

Buck goes on dates now. Not often, and never with the same girl twice in a row, but he goes on dates. And the thing is — the thing is, Eddie can’t be mad about that, because he goes on dates too. - or, five (ish) times eddie and buck go on dates with other people, and one time they go on a date with each other

so far from being free by allisonRW96

"That’s Daniel. He was our brother. Buck doesn’t know what to do with the past tense. He never had a brother. He’s always had a brother. He gained one and lost one in the same breath and it feels impossible. But even if Buck was capable of doubting Maddie, the truth of her confession is evident in the way it throws every facet of his childhood into sudden perfect clarity. That yawning, arctic absence. The unnamable fear. The impenetrable target of his parents’ approval that he was never, ever going to be able to hit. That they didn’t want him to hit. He has a brother. A dead brother who has haunted Buck’s steps for his entire life."

don't let the tide come and wash us away by writerforlife

Buck develops a relationship with the ocean, avoids talking about the day Eddie was shot, realizes he might be in love, and drives. Order may vary. (a fic for the "Buck is going to break all the way down in season 6" truthers)

dance, for all that we've been through by catchingpapermoons 

The Los Angeles Ballet’s 2022-2023 season ends with a bang with their fresh take on a ballet staple, Swan Lake. Artistic Director Bobby Nash is in his eighth season with the Los Angeles Ballet, and it has flourished under his direction. However, his associate, Eddie Diaz, is the one whose reimagining of the choreography has caught our attention... (or, Eddie Diaz moves to L.A. to restart his dance career, and ends up choreographing a show, finding a family, and falling in love. Not necessarily in that order.)

I'll Scrawl it on Every Wall I See by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker. Or, in which Buck and Eddie love each other before they know each other, and know each other before they love each other. When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker. Or, in which Buck and Eddie love each other before they know each other, and know each other before they love each other.

never felt this way before (yes i swear) by withoutthetiger

It’s the summer of 2022, when Buck no longer wants to be called Evan, and it only occurs to his parents to mind. It’s after the pandemic – or so they say – and before whatever hell will befall the world next, when Buck can’t wait to join the LAFD in September, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever meet someone as gently strong and fiercely protective as his big sister. It’s the summer he goes with his family to the One Eighteen Ranch & Lodge. *** A Dirty Dancing AU, set in Texas in 2022, featuring a whole lot of familiar faces in a not so familiar place.

Fragile lines (and wasted time) by Mellaithwen / @mellaithwen

“Hey Buck,” Christopher says a little shyly, before reaching out to grab Buck’s foot through the hospital blankets—shaking it in the same way he’s woken his father up on many a bleary-eyed morning. The familiarity of the gesture makes Eddie’s head spin. But of course, there’s no response from the comatose man on the bed. “I thought you said he was sleeping,” Chris mumbles, angrily swiping at his cheeks, and Eddie’s already broken heart shatters all over again for whatever hope his son had just lost when his expectations were so cruelly dashed. . While Buck sleeps, and dreams in the aftermath of the lightning strike, Eddie tries desperately to hold himself together.

Don't Take the Money by HMSLusitania

“You know, being stuck here isn’t actually the end of the world,” Chimney says, coming up to the table and picking up one of the smoke detectors. “It just feels like it, Buck. Trust me, I know.” “I’m pretty sure it might actually be the end of the world,” Buck says. “Considering this is the sixth time I’ve lived this day.” Chimney stares at him for a beat and then his eyebrows lift. “Wait, are you like – dude, are you in Groundhog Day?” OR The post-lawsuit time-loop AU literally no one asked for.

keep your eyes on the road by iriswests / @fcntasmas

Buck used to speed through yellow lights; now they’re his favorite part of the drive. -- or; a glimpse into buck and eddie’s developing relationship, told through ten moments stopped at a traffic light

Hot Ghost Problems by ebjameston

The ghost would prefer to go by Buck, if Eddie wouldn’t mind. +++ [Eddie is the newest firefighter at the 118. Buck is the ghost haunting the 118. Unfortunately for both of them, Eddie's also a witch and needs to put Buck's spirit to rest, because that's what witches do. Turns out, Buck's spirit? Super not interested in being put to rest. Very interested, however, in flirting with Firefighter Diaz, who is just trying to survive his candidate year. (Also turns out, Buck? Super not dead.)

as lucky as us by hammersmiths

One of the first things Ravi learned when joining the 118 was to, under no circumstances, think too hard about Buck and Eddie’s relationship. But brother, they could try make his job easier. “I mean, I get it,” Buck’s saying, overhead, and Ravi’s knee-deep in literal human crap and even he can smell that shit from a mile away. “You and Tommy have a lot in common.” or, Ravi continually suffers as a third-wheel.

#anon #asks #911 related #buddie fic rec #happy reading anon!!! #like i said this is only a tiny list in comparison to the amount i've read and loved

[joelsflower]

little present | bfd!joel x f!reader

an: okay i know we’re in APRIL lmaoo sorry but i was listening to last christmas by wham! and the whole idea came to me. enjoy tho!! read it now!! reread it in december!! do whatever!! hope u like it!! :^) so yeah this is christmas themed a bit. sorry. also i apologize if i’m still mistaking “in/on/at” a bit too much, i’m still learning the language :/ hope it’s not too bad and doesn’t influence badly on your reading tho! no beta ops

wc: around 2.5k i believe?

tw: titty sucking and pussy fingering combo (yay!), beginning of blowjob but that’s it, soft dom!joel, older!joel (i imagine him on late 40s/early 50s and reader on early/middle 20s but up to you), best friend’s dad, teasing reader, teasing joel, teasing me, teasing you, reader is able bodied, afab but not described; there’s one part where “your smaller body” is used but in no way to describe reader, just to point she was smaller than joel. image also does not describe reader, only for visuals. no y/n. ALSO. weather not described!! shout out to us latinas who go through christmas sweating and panting 🫡 it can be snowing too tho up to you

🌹🌹🌹

You knocked three times on the door; unsure if it would sound impatient or even be heard due to the loud music and chatting coming from the inside. Sarah didn’t lie about the whole family coming this year for Christmas.

By the look on Joel’s face when he opened the door, your three knocks sounded more likely the angels singing.

His big brown eyes lit up like candlelight when they found you. For a moment, you stood there in silent, letting him get drunk on your sight and you in his. The puffy bags under his eyes let you know it was a rough week, a rough week without you. The raspy, yet-to-made scruff adorning his cheeks and neck inciting your skin without even being near it. His calloused knuckles gripped the doorknob and the muscle on his bicep swelled, making your mouth water.

You let your eyes dance from his salt and pepper curls and finally to the little bit of chest peaking from the deep red plaid shirt, and when your eyes found his he broke the spell, letting out what seemed to be the first breath he took since he opened the door.

“Hi, sweetheart. Didn’t know Sarah invited you.” he shrugged weirdly, hand resting on his hip and the other on the door, like he was nervous. Due to college and construction, it’s been around one week since you’ve properly seen each other — it seemed like a whole year.

“Oh, hey santa” you joked, soft voice coaxing his tired ears, nodding to the santa hat hugging his curls. Suddenly, it was like he remembered he was wearing it and took it off, shoving it in his back pocket while making a face, biting back a smile when your giggle hit his ears.

“Uh- yeah, I wasn’t on the plans I think,” your fingers carved on the plate in your hand, and he gave you a “stop that” face, “she just called me last minute. But I have this!” you motioned the plate a little, making it be noticed.

“Didn’t need to bring anything, ya know. Just you’s enough.” silence once again put itself between the two of you, and if you were losing your mind, Joel could bet he was losing his a lot more harder. Opening the door to find the only sight that could rest his tired eyes on a beautiful red dress that hugged your body perfectly, matching see-through black thighs that allowed him to see just enough and the need for comfort that he could well read in your gaze was not on his list, but was definitely a present.

Not being able to properly talk or touch you was feeling more like being on santa’s badlist, though. And maybe it was what he deserved, he thought, for fucking his daughter’s best friend and enjoying it so much.

You brought him back to life. What was he supposed to do if not give you the world and the best orgasms in it?

“Uh- come on in, then” he shook his desire away, holding the door open and watching as you passed by him.

One foot past the door and the chatter got louder. Uncles and sisters and cousins of cousins of cousins — there were a lot of Millers in this world, and all of them would be a problem if you wanted just a bit of closeness to Joel tonight.

“Thank you, Mr. Miller,” you looked up at him shyly, hoping treating him more formally would get you away in case anyone heard anything. Joel, on the other side, could not be less subtle while losing control of how hard he closed the door when your silky voice hit his ears, saying his name, thanking him. Just like you did when he held your wrists up your head and made your foggy bambi eyes roll back your head.

“Here,” he took the santa hat in his hands, stepping closer to put it in your head. The way his fingers carefully put your hair behind your ear set your body on fire, just the slight brush of its tips on your ear, the soft but swift strokes on your scalp to put your hair in place sending cold breezes up and down your spine.

“I missed you,” you whispered, lashes flourishing while your fingers boldly gripped the end of his shirt. You just needed to touch him.

But he didn’t answer right away, too focused on “putting the damn thing in your head”, which translates to an excuse to caressing your face and being close enough your sweet, peachy smell invaded his nostrils and messed with his brain chemistry.

“All done” your glossy eyes and quivering lips broke his heart in a million; all he wanted to do was take you in his arms right there. “Later, angel” he reassured you, taking your hand off of his shirt and giving you a softer look, that you knew was his way of apologising and comforting you for now. It was too risky, you knew that too.

“Oh gosh, you’re here, finally!” Sarah jumped on you for a hug, scaring the two of you, her bubbly energy warming you up. “Jesus dad, knew you’d hate it,” she gestured to the hat on your head, filling your mind with thoughts of him. “C’mon, you need to meet cousin Maria!” she dragged you away, the only thing connecting you to Joel being the lingering gaze you’d share for the rest of the night.

🌹🌹🌹

“Ha! Remember that, brother?” Tommy laughed about a story old enough to be your age about one time him, Joel and their other cousin Frank went fishing and something apparently went wrong, you weren’t really paying attention though.

Not when Joel’s hand had found your knee under the table.

You just had to sit by his side cause Sarah wanted to be close to Maria that was close to Tommy that was close to someone else and the seat by Joel’s side ended up being the only one empty.

“Sit there by dad’s side, he doesn’t care. Here, gimme this,” she took the plate of sweets from your hands, setting it on the table. Joel, who was praying someone could come save him from hearing the same story for the 10th time, made space for you to pull the chair and accommodate your smaller figure by his side.

Around ten minutes into chatting with Sarah and Maria and taking food from left to right on the table, you felt his knee brush yours. The simple warmth of physical connection between the two of you made your whole body vigilant, in hopes for some more.

“Ya should be there, Sarah. Never not funny seeing your old man struggling t’get some fish” Tommy looked towards you, meeting Sarah’s and Maria’s giggles. Joel bit back a laugh, it was funny, yes, but he didn’t want to look like a stupid old man to you. That’s when you meet him with a small smile and a brush of your thigh on his, inviting his hand to instinctively envelope your knee.

“Oh, I’ve seen him struggle to do less, believe me”

And I’ve seen him do more with the stamina of a teenage boy, you thought.

Joel’s hand snaked up a bit more into your leg, always careful to not be seen, but stern enough to make you feel him, invading the area of your inner thigh and dragging your dress up a little. The warmth of his large palm against the material pressing at your skin was driving you insane, the way his fingers were digging into your soft but covered flesh and his thumb squeezing at your outer thigh making your core pulse and the hairs at your neck stir up.

Mine, ran through his head.

“Both of you are on my badlist tonight, hope y’know that” he seriously pointed to Sarah and Tommy, giving them an angry-like look and the ones around you bursted laughing. You reached down a hand to lay on top of his, your smaller fingers enveloping his much bigger pointer one, his thumb immediately brushing your hand, his way of saying “you’re not”.

🌹🌹🌹

“I think I need some air” you told Sarah as you got up from the couch and released her hand. Your tummy was full and your eyes were starting to get heavy. From the other side of the room, Joel’s eyes followed you to the balcony.

The peace of the outside of the house was everything you needed that moment, trying to clear your head a bit from going into the spiral of Joel Joel Joel Joel to risky risky risky. The moon lit up the sky and kissed your rosy cheeks, the singing of the crickets taking you away from all the buzz.

Just when you closed your eyes and breathed in the natured air, you jumped when a strong hold surrounded your waist, the warmth of his chest hugging your back.

“Jesus, I— they’ll see us” you panicked.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” his other hand spread to pet on your tummy, paired with a kiss to your temple, “I checked, no one’s near. Wouldn’t want t’share you with anyone though, would I? Looking like my own little cherry on this dress” his fingers gripped the dress deep, sliding it up and down your waist a bit.

“I missed you so much” you turned around in his hold, arms wrapping around his neck and tugging at the curls at the base of his scalp. On your tiptoes you glued your body to his, closest as you could get, taking in the strong smell of his cologne that made your insides twirl. One of his hands danced down your spine to rest on your lower back, while the other held the back of your neck.

“Oh angel, missed you too, s’much. Can’t go a day without thinking about you, little one.” His deep voice whispered on your ear. Joel firmed his feet on the ground and swayed your bodies slowly left to right, calming you down. “Thinking about holding you, having you with me. About hearing your voice call me from the other side of the house and moan my name when I’m knuckle deep inside ya’”

“Joel!” You snapped his arm a little, staring into his eyes in disbelief.

“Am I lying?” he looked down at you with his rounded brown eyes, the same that could get you on your knees, mouth hanging open, with this exact same look he was giving you now. You shook your head slowly, fingers gripping his shirt, “Know you love it, baby, I love it too. Shit, should’ve found a way to see you earlier. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He rested his forehead on yours.

You took your head back and looked towards the living room, checking to see if you were still safe from prying eyes “want more of you.”

Joel grinned, “Later baby, ‘kay?”

You looked up at him, no confirmation.

“Hm? Can you be my good girl and be patient?” He held your chin up with his thumb and pointer, forcing your gaze to meet his, “G’na be worth the wait, promise. But you need to be good f’me. Can you do that?”

“I can” you murmured, eyes closing as his hands found your sides and gave them a firm squeeze.

“Know y’can, darling. My best girl.”

🌹🌹🌹

“Shhh, c’mon angel. Know these precious little sounds belong to me only,” Joel’s deepened voice vibrated on your neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin and making your head go foggy.

It was a combination of it all, to be honest; his hot mouth and beard on your neck, you only in your underwear and thighs and him fully clothed, his thumbs mercilessly circling your nipples through your bra and his very hard bulge grinding against your pussy and his whole weight pressing you against his bed.

It started when you both came back to the living room — in separate moments, of course — and then you needed to go the bathroom but the one downstairs was occupied and Joel suddenly needed to check on something very important in his room.

“P-Please, Joel,” you cooed, the pool in your cunt becoming unbearable, your wetness overtaking your poor excuse of panties and messing the front of his jeans.

“‘S okay baby, gonna take care of you,” he gave you kiss a peck, hands releasing your abused nipples to hold your face in his hand so his tongue could invade your mouth. “I’ma bad old man, ain’t I? Making my little girl wait for so long to feel good. Fisting my cock the whole week, thinking ‘bout this pussy gushing me in. Bad, bad man.” you shook your head no in a desperate side to side move, fingers gripping his shoulders, as if taking his shirt off, but his force was pinning you down just right.

A sudden grind of his hips into yours and tears pooled on your eyes, your hands stilling and your throat holding back a moan while Joel groaned at the feeling of his hard cock rocking against you. “That’s what you want, isn’t it, princess? To feel so, so good?” Another desperate nod. “Shh, c’mon baby. G’na make you cum for the week we lost.”

Joel used his hands to lift you by your armpits and sit you against his headboard, lowering his body so now he was face-to-face with your covered pussy, “oh, poor baby. Feel her, angel,” he pressed his thumb up and down your core, your wetness gluing your panties to your slit, overflowing a bit around the lacy edges. “So desperate to be touched, ain’t she? Just waiting for me to take care of her. I will baby, don’t worry. Been such a good little girl f’me. Gonna stuff you full in a minute”

He then proceeded to finally tangle his fingers on the thin stripes of your panties, but first giving the little bow on top of them a little kiss. “My little present,” he murmured, more to himself then to you, but smirking when realising how your core pulsed with his words.

The moment Joel’s fingers slid the lace down your legs and his hot breath ghosted your pussy, you were a goner; all your fuzzy bran could focus on were the strong pressure of his tongue on your clit and his fingers patiently circling your hole.

“Let me in, angel,” he begged and started to push two of his digits inside your pussy, his head now on the level of your cleavage, keeping himself from missing the reaction of his own little Christmas angel being finger fucked by him.

Your eyes screwed shut and your mouth fell open, making a little “o” shape when two of his thick fingers spread you open all at once, making you just so full. “My tight little princess,” he cooed, looking down at your pussy swallowing his fingers in and out, your juices covering his knuckles with each pump, deeper and deeper. The slick sounds of the obscene act you two were dwelling it almost distracted you too much from hearing Joel’s “who’s pussy is this?”

Instead of answering, your smaller hands held his face and pulled him to a kiss, a very wet, hot kiss, his tongue making home of itself inside your mouth and twirling around your own, teeth grazing at your lower lip hard enough to leave a mark and soft enough to leave you wanting more.

“It’s yours, Joel,” you finally gave him what he wanted, a string of spit connecting the two of you.

“Tha’s my girl.” He curled his fingers to brush at that spot that made your head cloudy and the back of your eyelids starry, pulling the sweetest, most desperate moan from your wet lips (both of them). “And tha’s my pussy, hm?” He watch attentively as your eyes got too hazy and your mouth too open to process what he was saying, “poor little thing, so good can’t even think straight.”

You caught Joel by surprise though, when your hand found his clothed cock, giving your best to grab at it as hard as you cold, messaging him with your palm and thumb. Even so lazily, the action drove him crazy enough to lost himself in your neck, fingers still fucking your pussy full and beard leaving marks all over your skin.

Joel allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of your hot, pulsing cunt strangling his fingers and your small hand palming his cock to lower his head a little bit, teeth pulling your excuse of a bra to the side (or trying).

“J-Joel,” you plead, the delicate lace of your lingerie ripping like paper in between his teeth.

“G’na get you a new one, love. Lot’s of new ones.” He lost no time though in greedily sucking one of your tits into his mouth, tongue languidly abusing your nipple. His mustache hurting the soft skin of the area while his spit and velvety lips caressed the burn.

Feeling your pussy pulse and pull him hard, Joel increased the pace of his fingers inside you and directed his attention to your other boob too, his spit lingering all over your chest. “Pussy gripping me real tight, baby, wanna cum, don’t ya? You can, c’mon. Cum all over me, little girl.”

And you did. Pussy squirming his fingers and almost making them a part of your own body, lips hanging open with nonsense babble followed by muffled moans and cries, nipples stiff and hard by the overstimulation.

His own little present, as he himself put. All for him.

Joel helped you calm down with sweet kisses to your cheeks and lots of “did so good to me, my love”, “missed you having you like this”, “my best girl, makes me so happy, baby”.

“Y’with me?” he nosed at your temple and noticed your eyes become more bright, the small nod of your head bringing you back to a fully conscious state of mind.

“Open.” he positioned the tip of the fingers that were once inside you on your lower lip, your mouth instinctively opening to welcome them inside. “That’s it, ‘atta girl,” he awarded as you sucked his fingers clean from your own mess, realising why his eyes became so dark with the action.

He hadn’t come yet.

You pulled your mouth from him and kneeled in between him and the bed, hands gripping his bulge shamelessly.

“Still gotta clean you up, angel. C’mon, we can do it later. Jus’ wanted to take care of ya.” he held your chin up to gather your attention, but a failed attempt, you knew he needed it as much as you.

“‘S okay, I wanna. Just gonna suck on it a little.”

“My sweet girl,” Joel complimented as his palm held the whole side of your face, your bambi-like gaze distracting him while you worked both his pants and underwear down his legs.

With your mouth only inches away from his girthy, veiny cock that was proudly bouncing in front of your face, you gripped at the thick hairs at his base and gave the swollen, ruddy tip a mouth-open kiss, silky lips enveloping the head while his precum oozed down your tongue and a deep groan left his throat. You found his gaze again, pulling the most sincere, grateful and innocent look you had.

“Merry Christmas, Joel.”

🌹🌹🌹

#AHHH WHO WROTED THAT #ofc lis wrote a christmas fic in april! cause lis is insane! and that’s okay! #don’t know if i love this one #but hey a moodboard! anyway byeee #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #pedro characters #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction

[radioisodoped]

The sun had just barely come up when you started packing up your things, a couple rays of light streaming into the room and warming your back as you stuff whatever you can manage into your bag. The next settlement is a two-day hike away, but you’ve got plenty of supplies. You’ll manage. Once the spoils of yesterday’s scavenge are safely put away, you make your way to the stairs. The wooden steps creak as you make your way down, idly considering which road out of town would be best.

Stepping down onto the landing, you see his boots first. One leg casually crossed over the other on the dust-covered table. He’s already got his hand cannon pointed right at you, gloved finger steady on the trigger.

“Come chat, sugar. I didn’t come all this way for nothin’.” he drawls, smoke billowing out from under his tipped hat. A bloom of anger grows in your stomach when you see he’s gone through at least half the pack of cigarettes you had stashed away. Half your whiskey too, you knew you were missing something. Bastard. All of that was worth at least a small handful of caps.

You glance to the front door, your barricade still in place. A low whistle interrupts your thoughts.

“Where’s your hospitality? C’mon now, come and say hello.”

He punctuates it by motioning to the table with his gun. Bastard. You walk over, dropping your bag at his feet. Casual house calls aren’t something you associate with him. Before you can ask what he needs, he interrupts you. “Sit down, sweetheart. You’re makin’ me nervous.”

You doubt it. His hand couldn’t be steadier as you pull out a chair for yourself.

You get halfway through asking what he’s doing here before he interrupts again. “I’m still waitin’ on a ‘hello, how are ya’. Where are your manners?”

The games are getting old. You ignore his question and level your best unimpressed look at him.

“Are you here to kill me?”

He huffs out a laugh but doesn’t offer a response. You try not to let it phase you, reaching across his legs to grab the bottle of whiskey before you speak again. “If you are, I’d appreciate a heads up. Maybe even some last words, if you’re feeling particularly generous.”

He laughs again, shaking his head. “You and me both know I ain’t the generous sort. Though, that has nothin’ to do with whether you’ll die today.”

You take a swig from the bottle, watching out of the corner of your eye as he sets his gun down on the table. You’d never let him know it, but you’re a little relieved.

Another swig for courage and his gun out of hand, you feel yourself loosening up. The pretty little .44 holstered on your thigh could take the leg off a brahmin. You flirt with the notion of wrapping your hand around it and shooting him right through the ribs. Oh, you’d die. That’s an absolute certainty. He'd have bits of your head sprayed all over the room before you could get a second shot in. It’d almost be worth it to fuck up his day, though.

You watch him take a drag off of one of your cigarettes and a different thought forces its way to the front. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve earned your way out of a sticky situation

It won't be the last, either. You'll make sure of it. With death still on the table, you loosen your grip on the bottle and let it hang loosely from your fingers so the rim is just barely brushing over your bottom lip.

He tips his Stetson up and you can finally see his eyes, watch the slow drag of his gaze from your fingers to your mouth. You part your lips just enough that the tip of your tongue can pick up a drop of booze that's settled in the mouth of the bottle.

He smiles, half amused. You'll take it. With a small shake of his head, he speaks again. "I'm not here to kill ya, sweetheart, but I am here on business."

"Color me shocked." you mumble, "And here I thought you just missed my pretty face."

"Why can't it be both?"

You make a noise halfway between a scoff and a laugh, setting down the bottle. "Careful, Casanova. Keep that up and I might start thinking you like me."

Burnt lips split into a sleazy grin, cigarette hanging loosely between his teeth. He leans back in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight. "'Course I like you. Don't you remember when we first met?"

Your face heats. That memory had kept you warm on plenty of lonely nights. You'd guess with the way he's looking at you, he's just as fond of it. A little teasing wouldn't hurt, and you're not in the mood to inflate his ego any more than it already is.

"Which time was that?" you ask, leaning back and pulling your eyebrows together to mock a thoughtful look. "The one where you left me on my knees without returning the favor, or the second time you left without getting me off?"

His smile doesn't drop, but you see a muscle in his burned cheek twitch. You hit a nerve. Good. You haven't forgotten how he neglected all of yours.

"Last time wasn't my fault. You knew better than to get handsy somewhere we might get caught." he drawls, most of the humor gone from his tone. He had a point- that was a mess. And mostly your fault. You still had the scar to remember it. He tilts his head, continuing on. "That first time, though? I didn't owe you shit. Besides, with the way you're still running your mouth... Well, clearly I didn't use it hard enough for you to learn anything. Seems to me you got the better deal out of that bargain."

Not one to be outdone, you stand. His eyes follow your every move, watching as you walk over. He barely has time to drop his boots back onto the ground before you straddle his lap, his spurs clinking as he settles. He's already hard when you grind down against him, steadying yourself by gripping his jacket. He does nothing to help, just leans back and reaches for your leg. You arch your back, welcoming the touch, but he just unbuckles your thigh holster, throwing your .44 on the table beside his own gun.

You roll your eyes, rocking your hips again. "Paranoid old man. If I was going to shoot you, I'd have done it while you were eyefucking me."

He laughs, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and stubbing it out on the table while he responds. "You should've. Would've made me want you even more."

"Do you get this hard for everyone you're going to kill?"

He spreads his thighs beneath you, his hands landing on your hips to keep you flush with his bulge as he readjusts. "'Course not, darling. Just brats like you.”

You’ve never wanted someone inside you more in your life. You ache with it. You reach down to fight with his belt buckle and he snickers. “Slow down and enjoy it, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re the kind of person who’d complain if you were bein’ hung with a gold rope.”

“Yeah, well, at least I know the rope can get the job done.”

You don’t have time to bask in the jab before you're sliding off his lap, surprised to find him suddenly standing. His hand wraps around your throat before he wrestles you down onto the rickety table. The whole thing shakes under your back, threatening to break under the strain of your struggle.

“You got a big fuckin’ mouth on you.” He sneers, leaning down close and narrowing his eyes. “I oughta not let you get off again just to prove a point.”

“All that would do is prove me right. You aren’t good for shit outside of killing-“

The slap shocks you. You’re suddenly looking at the wall, the taste of blood coating your tongue. A beat. Then another. You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him close until his cock is pressed right up against where you need him. He laughs under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “You crazy, insatiable bitch.”

He pulls his hand back, unbuckling his belt with a practiced motion that stokes the fire in your stomach. He slips his cock out unceremoniously, glove dragging over ridged skin. “You better be ready, sweetheart. I ain’t wastin’ any more time gettin’ you worked up. I told you I didn’t come for fun.”

Clothes are ripped and forced out of the way, his cock head pressing against your hole. He finally pushes in and you bite your lip, throwing your head back to stare at the stained ceiling as you moan out. “Yeah, but you’ll come for me, right?”

He hums, grabbing at your hips to pull you the rest of the way down his cock. “I always do.”

You choke on a moan, nails digging into the wood beneath you when he bottoms out. The whole table rocks as he thrusts into you, slow at first but gaining momentum quickly. This house was one of the safer places to be, but he wouldn’t afford you the luxury of a gentle fuck.

You know he could, if he wanted to. The grip on your hips isn’t painful, despite the punishing pace he’s set. There's something soft, reverent, in the way his hands drift over your clothes. Not like the way he touched you every other time you've had the privilege of his hands on you.

You're starting to think he really does like you.

The revelation unsettles you a bit. Not in a bad way, necessarily. You just didn't think he was capable of it. You watch the muscles in his neck tense as he holds back noises. You've bitten your lip raw for the same reason.

It's been a while for you. You'd had people since him, sure... but it wasn't the same. Never as satisfying as this. Maybe it's wishful thinking, but you think he might agree. He grunts and leans on one arm beside your head, chasing his own release. You want to make some smart quip, reminding him to slow down and enjoy it, sweetheart, but you think better of it. Your jaw still aches from the slap.

It's not long before he's unloading inside you with a groan, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips twitch against you. An unnatural heat reminds you to look for some radaway once he's gone, but you're distracted by his hand slipping between your bodies. Embarrassingly, it doesn't take much. Rusty or not, he knows how to use his fingers. The fabric of his glove drags along just right and you keen, back arching as you come around his cock.

He lets you ride the high, only pulling away when you go limp and start to pant. He pulls out, leaving you looking like a mess as he readjusts himself. He could still kill you. He might, honestly. You couldn't give less of a fuck if you tried. He holsters his gun as your eyes shut, enjoying the afterglow. Of course, he doesn't let you rest long.

“That was an awful nice treat, but we got things to do. Up and at ‘em, darlin'." He slaps the side of your thigh with a smile, jolting you out of your reverie. "We’re goin’ on a field trip.”

#.the ghoul #.fallout #notsfw #.bitter #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader

[five-and-dimes]

I saw you don’t mind multiple asks on the same thing so here I am shamelessly begging for more of Dead Hearts❤️‍🔥🪦

You are correct! I'm using these asks to bully myself into actually working on these wips, so the more you send, the more I simply MUST work on them ;P

For example, this fic now has an opening scene thanks to you lol

If you had asked Hob thirty seconds earlier, he would have said that he didn’t believe in love at first sight. Even with Eleanor- who Hob still considered the love of his life, even four fears after her passing- it had taken time for them to even properly like each other, let alone declare their love. Their relationship had taken work, and it had been more than worth it, but it had certainly solidified Hob’s belief that ‘love at first sight’ was a myth best reserved for movies and romance novels. But that was thirty seconds ago. That was before he had glanced around the crowded pub and laid eyes on the most stunning man he’d ever seen. Even in the dim lighting his pale skin seemed to glow, accented by his fitted black clothes, and his hair was an artful mess that Hob wanted to run his fingers through. He was sitting in the far corner, probably the quietest spot in the building, with a laptop open in front of him, slim fingers typing away and only pausing to occasionally take a sip from the wine glass beside him. There was a look of intensity in his eyes, laser focused on whatever he was working on, and Hob thought he would do terrible things to get those eyes to look at him like that. All at once, he wanted to know everything about this beautiful man. “I’m in love.” Johanna nearly choked on her drink, “Excuse me?” She raised an eyebrow at him, “Where did that come from? You’re not even seeing anyone,” she reminded him.  “I’m seeing someone now,” he sighed wistfully.  Following his gaze, Johanna gave the man across the room a once over, rolling her eyes as she looked back at Hob, “Oh lord, I know I’m the one who said you need to get laid, but can you at least be normal about it?”

“Absolutely not.” He stands and walks straight for the other man without a second glance at his friend. “Hey!” Johanna calls after him, offended. But Hob isn’t paying attention to her anymore.

#the sandman #dreamling #my writing #Dead Hearts WIP

[onelittlespiral]

I’ve been looking for a fraternity to join at my new college, but none of them have really been letting me in. The only one left seems to be full of horny jocks that are dumber than a bag of bricks. Think you could help me… fit in?

FML: In

As you laid it all out in front of your friend, your plans, your goals, your desires, he just kind of shook his head in disbelief:

“I know that I’ve only known you for a few weeks, but damn that’s disappointing.”

“What’s so wrong about wanting to pledge?” you replied, “It would just make getting connected the university so much easier. Plus, the parties are legendary.”

“No I get it,” he scowled, “but really? Pi Kappa Epsilon?”

“Listen, they weren’t my first choice either. I would have preferred a group a little less… dim.” I knew he wouldn’t leave it there.

“Dim? Dim still implies some light on upstairs. You can just call them what they are: brainless frat bros. They think with their dicks and muscle their way through academics. I can’t believe you’re asking me to use my power for this.” He began walking towards the door.

I called after, “Look, I’ve seen you do crazier shit than this. You turned the guy upstairs into a dog for a week.”

He stopped in the door frame for a minute to chuckle, “If he was going to call the RA a bitch he may as well get first hand experience.”

“Please dude.” I stared at him.

After a moment he relented, “Fine. But are you sure you want this? You want to change for this? A frat?”

“Yes. And I promise I’ll get you into any party you want!”

“Fine. Give me a bit. But remember, you asked for it.”

He returned in a bit and tossed me a necklace from across the room, “Here’s your frat solution. Wear this to your next thing with them at their house.”

You inspected it. It looked like a basic chain necklace like you had seen other guys wear around “And do what? What does it do?”

He rolled his eyes, “And do nothing. It will help you fit into the frat, I promise.”

“No magic words or anything?” I asked.

He grinned, “Oh come on, think of me as better than needing all that crap. Now put it on so you don’t lose it.”

It fits well around your neck, “I’m headed over there tonight, I think it is the last event before they drop everyone. You sure this will work?”

“Trust me,” he says, “You want in the frat? You will be in the frat.”

When you arrive at the frat house, you do feel the necklace almost pulling you inside. It feels warm against your chest as you wander around, talking with some brothers and checking in with your fellow pledges. You get a sense of magnetism from it, like the necklace is pulling the frat house around it towards you. As the party kicks into gear, you focus less on the chain and more on socializing. But whatever it’s effect, it seems to be working. Brothers and other pledges are seeming to stumble over themselves trying to talk with you. Even the pledge master gives a knowing glance and tilts his head in approval. In a little under two hours, you begin to feel more at home in the house, more comfortable in the crowd. Maybe for the first time you feel a sense of brotherhood. So it is a shock when you step into the bathroom to take a piss and take a look in the mirror.

You don’t recognize the face that stared back. You blinked in confusion, assuming you had too much to drink. But no. The stranger in the mirror stared back into your eyes, copying your every move as you tilted your head and inspected your face in awe. The trance broke as you glanced down and saw the truth. Your polo shirt stretched against your chest as two pectorals firmly pushed out, flexing with each breath. Your pants had grown tight around my quads, now a good few inches short. They hugged your ass so tightly you were surprised they hadn’t ripped. Tattoos flowed down your arms, newly ripped and well toned. You noticed for the first time the power you felt coursing through your veins. You could almost feel your skin taut against your muscles as they slowly swelled. You pulled your top off to get a better look at the action.

‘Damn I look good’ you think as you admire the new cum gutters and still developing 6-pack. You try out a few poses in the mirror, just to see the muscles move. The necklace is no joke. No way PKE would drop you now, you looked like you fit right in. But, at the same time, you figured it may be time to get the necklace off. You didn’t want to change too much, and no telling how far it would go. You go for the back of your neck and and start to fiddle with the clasp when the necklace suddenly starts to warm up.

You feel the odd magnetism is no longer subtle. It feels as though the necklace is pulling against the frat house you, drawing it’s very essence towards you. At the same time, the growth within your body stops as the necklace channels all its energy towards your head. The sudden spike hits like a migraine, as you let go of the necklace and go to hold your temples. The necklace wants to finish its work. Your senses are sharpened to a point, as you feel the heat of the bros downstairs, taste cheap beer and seltzers, hear every footstep, see every muscle and bulge, and smell 100 horny men all at once. You feel the pure energy of the fraternity pull through your body as it shapes you. Beneath the pressure, your mind buckles as false memories push their way in. Memories of watching college football on TV. Working out during the summer to become a fucking stud. Playing the field as soon as you got to college. Meeting up with some brothers to get a foot in the door. Getting called a fuckboi for the first time on Tinder. Wearing it like a badge of pride.

Your brain throbbed as the energy reshaped your memories and personality, but your balls churned as it began to adjust your libido. They ached as they swelled to the size of golf balls. Your cock was rigid at attention as you grabbed it with both meaty hands and started to pump. Your body writhed as every stroke only makes the pleasure more intense. You are soon hot with the effort. An aura of testosterone and sweat formed around you as a frat funk sets in deep: a mixture of booze, yesterday’s workout, and cheap cologne. The smell only drives you more wild, and you start to feel your brain short circuit. Your mind, consumed by pleasure, gave into the pressure and lost any remaining will to resist. The necklace pulsed in time with your throbbing cock as it buried the old you. As you reached climax, you knew there was no going back. As you shot your load across the room, a new you was released. A dumb, horny frat bro ready to pledge PKE.

And then the door behind you opened.

The pledge master, apparently worried by how long you had been in here, walked in on your afterglow as you tucked your cock back into your pants.

“Hey man, you okay?” he asked before recoiling a step. You watched as he smelled your rank funk and nearly gagged. You took a step closer.

“Yeah bro, better than ever. What about you? You look like you’re about to vomit.” you said, leaning in a bit closer. You flex your muscles and let your pit stench join the lingering cloud. You feel yourself start to harden again as he tried not to react.

“Bro, you are fucking rank. You smell like a… like a-”

“Like a frat house should?” you taunted. He had stopped recoiling and seemed now to be fighting a different urge.

“I don’t know bro, you should get- get that looked at.”

His eyes were focused on your muscles as you slowly flexed them rhythmically to the music downstairs. I felt the necklace pulling him closer as he fought the urges he is having. Fuck, you remembered that feeling, that pull towards desire. You knew how to help him out though. You grabbed the back of his head and pulled his lips to your pecs. As his lips connected with your flesh and tasted the beads of sweat that rolled down your chest, he wrapped his arms around you and began worshiping your muscles. As he kissed and licked every inch of your chest and washboard abs, he gently rubbed against your rigid cock. It wasn’t long before he was licking at the fabric separating his mouth from his prize. But as he reached for the elastic band around your waist, you grabbed his hair and pulled him up.

Your mind reveled in in the power you held in your hands and the pleasure your new frat bro could cause with his mouth. But you only had one thing left on you mind:

“I wanna be in the frat bro.” You said.

He mumbled as his mouth still searched for your flesh, “Yeah man, sure thing. I’ll make it happen. You can be a frat bro. Just please let me suck on your-“

“No,” you boomed. You pulled him out of the bathroom and into the nearest bedroom, locking the door behind you. You grabbed his ass as he grew limp in your hands, “I want to be in the frat bro.” You slip your hand beneath his gym shorts and begin slowly finger fucking his tight, straight hole.

He understood his place as he slipped off his shorts and underwear, leaving his cheeks on full display.

He moaned like he was in heat, “Yeah bro. Please. I would be so honored.”

You bent him over and spat in his quivering hole before you pressed your cock against him. You didn’t wait for him to relax as you slammed your cock as deep as you could and watched him yelp in surprise. As you slowly sped up and heard him start to moan, you felt the necklace once again start to warm against my chest as its power flowed through your cock and into the bro beneath you. He too began to sweat with the funk of the frat as was remade in its image under your guidance. He was going to become just as unified with PKE as you were.

#musk #straight to gay #jockification #frat bro #jock tf #dumber tf #frat tf #male transformation #reality change #fml

[callsign-rogueone]

older - b.s.

Brennan Sorrengail x younger!reader some thoughts about Bren + a sweet innocent younger partner!! [kinda requested] words: 1.9k 🏷: NSFW, descriptions of sex. no spoilers. afab “girl” reader who is younger than Bren. canonically, he’s 29-ish, and I’m implying the reader to be in her early 20s, and a scribe or healer, someone who isn’t combat-trained but is still part of the revolution. discussion of ethical concerns of a relationship like this, dom/sub dynamics in both sexual and non-sexual contexts, and traditional gender roles. I swear I’m a feminist woman in stem with career goals but it would be so nice to be his cute lil housewife 🥺 the daddy issues definitely came out here... oh well. that’s what the pseudo-anonymity of the internet is for, right?

Brennan can’t help but be drawn to you and your bright-eyed innocence, the genuine smile you give him every time you pass him by… the way you wear your uniform, playing things fast and loose + ditching the traditional robes for something more form-fitting and comfortable, especially during Tyrrendor’s hot summers… 

he struggles to stay composed every time you call him sir or Lieutenant Colonel — which is every time you speak to him, because you’re so sweet and respectful and eager to help him with whatever he needs, and it drives him absolutely insane because you don’t even seem to realize how captivated you have him. you’ve wrapped him around your manicured little finger without even trying. 

he resigns himself to suffering in silence because he knows this is wrong, that he’s your superior officer, that you’re closer to Violet’s age than to his, and there’s a clear maturity gap there — yes, you’re an adult, an officer in your own right, but a freshly graduated lieutenant who’s never seen combat and hopefully never will, and you clearly don’t have much relationship experience, either. 

he’s a good guy; he doesn’t want to take advantage of you in any way, especially because you’re so sweet and innocent… but he can’t live like this forever. it’s only a matter of time before he snaps, and snap he does. you do something incredibly stupid and dangerous — putting yourself at unnecessary risk, associating with someone who is only going to hurt you… whatever it is, as soon as he sees it, he’s forcibly removing you from the situation and ordering you into his office to give you a talking to, because he doesn’t want that happening again.

he’s stern with you, disciplining you how a Lieutenant Colonel should when something like this happens, but he’s especially upset because it’s you, because you put yourself in harm’s way. do you have any idea how dangerous that was? what could have happened to you, had he not intervened? 

he doesn’t realize how harsh he’s being until he sees that you’re crying. his heart breaks when you sniffle and nod and apologize with a quiet yes sir, those pretty eyes full of tears. he stops his lecturing to pull you into a warm embrace and apologizes for raising his voice at you, strokes your hair gently and promises that he’s only so stern because he cares about you, that this is for your own good, that he couldn’t bear to lose you or see you hurt.

you aren’t that close — this is the quite possibly the longest conversation you’ve ever had, because he can’t be around you for more than five minutes without needing to go splash some cold water on his face and give himself another lecture in the bathroom mirror about how wrong this is — but you already trust him so deeply, and believe his every word, you feel so warm and safe with him… you’d do whatever he asked.

it’s this kind of naïveté that landed you in that dangerous situation in the first place, but he’s not going to lecture you about it further, not when you’re this fragile, still hiding your face in his shoulder and sniffling quietly. he settles into his desk chair, sitting you in his lap and holding you for a while, murmuring soft assurances that you’re safe with him, and promises that he’ll take care of you. he’s so tender with you. dries your tears and mends any injuries you’d gotten, kisses your forehead… 

it’s clear that you need someone in your life to guide you and protect you from all the bad things in the world, to guard that sweet innocence. he’s happy to provide that for you, and you’re happy to be taken care of. but he’s still a little worried about taking advantage of you, because you’re not very experienced in the relationship department, and because you’ll have to keep this quiet for the sake of his reputation and yours. he doesn’t want anyone thinking he’s a sleaze or that you’re sleeping your way to a promotion etc. but of course, those thoughts had never even crossed your mind — why would they?

it starts slowly, just him dropping by the infirmary/archives more often than usual to check on you, taking your lunch breaks together, spending some time with him outside of your responsibilities with the revolution, maybe some secret hand-holding and more cheek/forehead kisses, you hanging out in his office and reading quietly while he does his paperwork, because you just want to be close to him… 

you meet Marbh, which is a little scary, because you’ve never been that close to a dragon before, but Brennan holds your hand and reassures you that he’s nice, and you believe him, because Brennan is so gentle and kind with you that his dragon must be nice too. (he definitely asks Marbh to keep an eye on you when he can’t, and even though Marbh is the aloof, distant type, he agrees and takes the task seriously, because he knows how deeply his rider cares for you.)

slowly, and then all at once. you’re just too hard to resist — he’s wanted you for months, and he finally has you exactly where he wants you; curled up in his lap like a cute little kitten, all sweet and cuddly. gentle kisses quickly turn into something more heated because it feels so good, so much better than you’ve ever felt before. you’re so needy, more than you ever have been in your life, whimpering into his mouth and grinding your hips down onto his thigh subconsciously, desperate for more but too shy to ask for it properly.

he pulls away and tilts your chin up with a gentle hand, makes you look at him, makes you use your words, because he needs verbal consent from you before this can go any farther. you manage to tell him what you want in a shy whisper, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, and he smiles at you, gives you one more soft kiss and then he’s leading you out of the office and up the stairs to your room because he’s not going to do this in his office — you deserve to be taken care of properly, in a nice, soft bed.

he shows you how a real man should treat you, pleasing you better than any idiot college boy your age ever could — gentle but thorough, no part of you left untouched or unkissed. he doesn’t even fuck you, just giving you his tongue and fingers, but it’s so good. the best sex you’ve ever had, without a doubt. he nearly busts right then and there when you tell him that, that you didn’t know it could feel this good, that nobody’s ever made you cum that hard, nobody’s ever gone down on you before… 

he spent another half hour eating you out after you told him that. he loves feeling your legs shake while he sucks on your clit, using a strong arm to hold your hips down against the mattress while you whimper and squirm. you taste so sweet and sound so pretty when you cum on his tongue… he just can’t get enough. 

of course, after he’s done, he’s scooping you into his lap for more cuddles and sweet kisses and reassuring words, telling you how good you were for him… you could have fallen asleep in his arms just like that, but he’s coaxing you up and out of bed to brush your teeth and put on real pajamas and get ready for bed before he tucks you in and kisses you goodnight, promising he’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast.

he’s unbearably horny at this point, and definitely has to sort things out himself in the shower before he falls asleep. baby steps, he tells himself. baby steps.

there’s no question that you’re both deeply attached to one another, and you make things official, even though it has to be kept secret for both of your reputations’ sake. you don’t call yourselves girlfriend and boyfriend, because he’s getting a little old for that, but also because this relationship is a little different than most — you’re just his and he’s yours, no need for labels.

you call him Bren in that cute, breathless voice as he eases into you for the first time, holding his hand tightly, and his heart just melts. that’s the ultimate reassurance for him, that in your head, behind closed doors, he’s no longer your superior officer, he’s just your Brennan. he’s so tender and gentle with you, nice and deep and slow — truly making love rather than fucking, because he wants you to feel safe and warm and fuzzy, wants you to know that you can trust him.

and you do trust him, one hundred percent. you let him set some rules for you, mostly about you taking care of yourself and staying out of harm’s way, not straying too far from the fortress without him and/or Marbh… etc. you’re happy to follow them, because you know it’s for your own good, that Bren cares for you deeply, and you just adore the praise and soft kisses he gives you for being such a good girl… 

you slowly move in together after a while, because his room is nicer, and you love being able to fall asleep next to him, all safe and warm in his arms, and it’s so nice for him to have a soft, pretty little thing to come home to after a long day of preparing for war, someone to melt all his worries away with sweet kisses and to take care of him — no one has done that before, doted on him and prioritized his comfort and treated him so kindly, made sure he’s not overworking himself, worked all of the tension out of his shoulders and helped him take his stress out, if you know what I mean 🤭 

he is so genuinely caring and nurturing and makes you feel safe. he loves you so, so much. however, comma, he won’t hesitate to teach you the lessons you need to learn, the hard way, if he has to — edging you until you cry and promise to not break his rules again, until he’s convinced you mean it. he’ll always take amazing care of you after, giving you what you need, wether that’s soft, slow, loving sex, a rough and thorough fucking, or something in between. 

your relationship becomes a very poorly-kept secret around the fortress, but nobody really cares, or if they do, they don’t dare say anything about it,  not when Brennan is literally one of the three most powerful people in the entire revolution. he does not give a single fuck what anyone thinks about your relationship -- you love and support each other, and that’s what matters most. however, if anyone is stupid enough to make any negative remarks about it to you, and if he hears about it, they’ll find themselves getting assigned overnight watch or the worst tasks that absolutely nobody wants to do, for a full week with no explanation. 

that’s all I’ve got for now, but you know I am always down to discuss my main man, so please don’t hesitate to share with the class if you have any more thoughts about this or literally anything for any of our beloved riders 💗 muah.

#brennan sorrengail #brennan sorrengail x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #mine #18+ #smut