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#can you already tell where this is headed :)
hairmetal666 · 21 hours
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Everyone in the league knows about Eddie Munson. He has the makings of a great pitcher, except for the fact that his slider has a 75% chance of sliding too high and his fastballs mostly end up in the dirt. His technique is wild, flailing, unrestrained. Which is why Steve is beside himself when he learns about the trade.
The owners, they think that Steve being the best catcher in the league means he can work with Eddie, settle him, make him a real prospect. Steve's input isn't needed with the decision already made, but Munson--with all his tattoos piercings and leather--looks like he'd rather hock a loogie at Steve than take directions from him.
And Steve is the best in the league, the glue that keeps the team together. They're a well-oiled machine, and Eddie is--Eddie is a squeaky wheel.
They meet for the first time, briefly, in the locker room. He's seen the guy before, of course, but now, like this, he can't help but be intrigued by his pale skin and long curls and brown doe-eyes, his lightly muscled frame. And they're in the locker room, Eddie with just a towel around his waist, exposing his toned chest and stomach and the black swirl of his tattoos.
"Steve Harrington!" Eddie reaches out a hand. "Great to meet you, man."
"You too. Excited to have you with us." The handshake is quick and firm and Steve is trying not to be surprised about how excited and genuine the guy sounds, keep his mind away from thinking of how Eddie is naked aside from the towel.
With only a few weeks until the start of the regular season, Eddie starts pitching to Steve. And Steve, he so expects Eddie to fight and grumble and refuse, that his head sort of spins when, on the first day, Eddie claps him on the back with his glove, says, "where do you want me, cap?" and that's that.
He wants to say that they dislike each other, that they're a bad fit, that Eddie is full himself and refuses constructive criticism.
Instead.
Instead it's easy.
Eddie doesn't complain, doesn't argue, just watches Steve, learns him, takes his advice and notes and implements them as much as he can. They like each other, have an easy rapport, get each other. He's tight with all the pitchers, but Eddie is different. They settle each other.
They're best friends. They hangout constantly. And he doesn't have a crush; he doesn't. It would be unprofessional. They're best friends.
But sometimes, sometimes he thinks he catches Eddie looking at him. It's impossible. Of course it's impossible. Eddie couldn't be into the guy Sports Illustrated called "baseball's Ralph Lauren model" in the intro to Steve's Body Issue photo spread. And it doesn't matter one way or the other because Steve won't make a move. He won't jeopardize the team like that.
They don't touch. He touches everyone on the team, often, and Eddie particularly is a physical guy, but aside from that first handshake, he keeps his distance. Steve's afraid--even though it's silly, he's afraid--that once they start touching, he won't be able to stop, and he can't let that happen.
The team is good, competing for first place in the National League. Eddie's success has made everyone else better.
It's late July, they're in first place in the league, and Eddie's pitching a perfect game. There's only been 24 perfect games thrown in the history of Major League Baseball, but it's the eighth inning and Eddie's doing it.
A pitch goes wild, veers high over the umpire's head. Eddie's shaken, Steve can tell with how his fist tightens compulsively around the ball. The next pitch swings wide, towards the batter's knees.
The count is at 2 balls, no strikes, and he can see, even from behind home plate Steve can see, that Eddie's losing it. He heads for the mound, refuses to let it end like this. He closes the distance between them, has a quick internal debate before he puts his hand on Eddie's lower back. They've never touched, this is it, this is--warmth bleeds from Eddie's skin, through the fabric of his jersey, goes straight to Steve's head.
Eddie frowns. "I don't think I--"
"You're going to do it, Ed. I know. I can feel it." He pats his chest, over his heart. "It's gonna happen."
Eddie's breathing settles and it's only then that Steve realizes he's rubbing circles into Eddie's back with his thumb. He's not sure when he started, doesn't want to stop, loves being able to feel.
"Okay," Eddie says.
"Okay."
Steve removes his hand, heads back to home, still tingling with the warmth of Eddie's body even as he crouches behind the plate.
He closes out the inning with three definitive strike outs. The crowd goes wild.
They take the field for the top of the 9th, the crowd is screaming, ready for this, the energy zipping through every player on the field.
It goes by in a blur. Nine pitches. Eddie's perfect game is wrapped up in nine phenomenal pitches.
As the ump calls the last out, there's a moment of complete and utter quiet in the stadium, Steve's heart a pounding hum in his ears, before pandemonium breaks loose. There's screaming, fireworks, someone is crying--
All he can see is Eddie. Eddie's who's thrown his glove to the dirt, is barreling towards him with a triumphant smile bright on his face. Steve stands, runs to close the distance. He sees the moment that Eddie decides to jump into his arms, catches him easily--will always catch him--but his legs are tired and the momentum gets him, sends them tumbling back into the grass.
They're both yelling, laughing, smiling hard enough to hurt. Eddie's hair has fallen out if its tie, tumbling around his shoulders, and Steve gazes at him, can't help it, in this moment can admit that he's so, so astronomically in love.
It's only then Steve realizes that the laughter's stopped, that Eddie's gazing back. Brown eyes shining bright with happiness, cheeks flushed pink, lips parted. Thoughtless, he reaches up to caress Eddie's cheek.
The team reaches them, streaming around them, yanking Eddie and Steve to their feet. The celebration stretches around them, the moment slipping away. He wants to finish what they started but there are interviews, champagne showers, congratulations, that keep them apart. Sometimes, from across the room, their eyes meet, and there's heat there that's new, that sparks something low in Steve's gut.
Hours pass, and finally he finds himself alone in the locker room. He's just pulled on his t-shirt when the door shuts behind him. He spins, finds Eddie, waiting, watching.
He crosses the room without a word, can't not, not now, not after everything. They grapple for a second, the wanting so strong that it takes a second to settle, to find each other. They kiss hard, desperate, seething with desire.
Steve hopes it never ends and it doesn't, just tapers into soft kisses, gentle nips. He can't bring himself to step away.
"Is this for real ?" Eddie whispers.
"I've been insane about you since the trade."
Eddie's smile is blinding. "I used to have those pictures of you--the ones with the little red shorts?--in my locker in the minors. Feel like I'm living in a dream right now."
It lights him up inside, knowing that Eddie wants him, has wanted him. "Let me take you home and show you just how real it is?"
He snorts, but his dimples deepen, eyes shining. "What a line, sweetheart."
"Yeah well, the baseball field isn't the only place where I hit home runs."
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a-b-riddle · 23 hours
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Hear me out, but obsessed Simon Riley x reader.
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When you’re accused of being a traitor, Simon doesn’t hesitate in getting to work.
Even though you handed over all of your passwords, given them access to anything and everything they him immediately, it did nothing to help. You were going to be crucified.
Price and Laswell had already made the call. A call Simon couldn’t stand by and let happen.
It’s not that Simon believed you when you tried to prove you weren’t the leak.
He simply didn’t care if you were.
He didn't care if you had betrayed them. He didn't care if your innocent nature had truly been an act all along.
It was instinct to get you out of there. Not even for your own safety, but to insure Simon that no one could take you from him. If you remained a free agent, it was only a matter of time before they brought you in. After that, it was out of his hands. You were theres to hurt, to kill and he could do nothing to stop it. So what better way to insure that they can't take you other than taking you for himself?
He simply can’t have someone hurting his bird. So he sets the plan in motion.
Price intends on waiting for the order before executing the extraction plan. They wanted answers. How much did you tell Makarov? What did he know?
Simon was a step ahead. It was easy enough hiding in your garage, waiting for you to come home. The darkness of the night had aided him. You were blindly walking to the door connecting to your kitchen before you felt it. The gloved hand around your mouth and the sharp pinch in your neck.
When you wake up chained to a bed in a dark room, you knew you were as good as dead. They had taken you. This was it and you couldn't plead your case anymore than you already had. All your efforts in trying to prove your innocence were futile.
When Simon stepped in, still in his tactical gear your heart sank. He still had on his mask. Fully equipped. The knives on his side gleaming menacingly as the one light in your cell shined down on him. You swore that you would never betray him, the 141 or Laswell.
“Simon,” you begged already scurrying farther back toward the headboard, trying to create more distance. “I didn’t do it. I swear.” He didn’t stop his slow steps. Even as you began to cry. Even as you curled your body into a tight ball.
You sobbed as you pleaded for mercy, begging for your life. Your shaking violently as you felt him get on the bed. The frame creaking under his weight. You closed your eyes, turning your head away as you readied your self for the final blow to come. Wordlessly began unlocking the metal cuffs.
"Shhh," he soothed. "None of that now." He took your wrists in his hand before softly running his thumbs where the metal cuffs had left an imprint. “Couldn’t have you running off.” He explained, his tone... gentle. Speaking to you as if you were child. "That sedative can give you a pretty rough wake up call. Didn't need you hurtin' yourself. Needed to have a chat first.” He went on to explain you were in his home. Where he wouldn’t disclose. Only that you were safe.
You were safe.
You weren't going to be tortured.
You weren't going to be killed for something you didn't do. Your eyes filled with tears as you realized he was on your side. “You believe me.” You said, the tears resuming for a completely didn't reason. Relief flooded you and you had to stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him.
“No,” his correction made your heart drop into your stomach.
"But..." You press your back hard against the wooden headboard. There's no where else to go. Nowhere else to run. "You said I was safe." He sighed. Tears flowed down your cheeks as he put his hand gently where your neck and jaw me.
"You are safe." But, if he didn’t believe you... why were you here? “I don’t care if you did it. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He reassured, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. Then he spoke so softly, you could have sworn he was talking more to himself than he was you. “Not going to let anything hurt you.”
It took you a moment to process it.
Simon had taken you... You were in his home and no one knew you were here. You didn't even know where exactly you were.
And Simon was touching you.
He was touching you. After years of working together, Simon was caressing your cheek. Showing such softness that it actually scared you. He took note of how he could feel your heart rate even through his glove.
"Why?"
“I’m protecting you.” He said, growing irritated that you weren't getting it. “Do you have any idea what they would have done to you?" He asked rhetorically, waiting rather patiently for you to be thanking him for saving you.
"Do..." Your head began to spin, trying to pull your mind away from all the possibilities on what could have happened. "Do I have to stay here?" You asked.
Simon was a patient man, but you beginning to test that patience. He let out a huff before pulling his hand away and placing it on your bare knee.
"Just until it all gets sorted." He lied, giving you a squeeze that he could only hope was reassuring. Even after they found the leak, you wouldn't be leaving him.
"Oh." You swallowed, nodding in understanding. "Okay." You let out a staggered breath trying to calm down. You were going to have to stay in this confined space, already feeling the claustrophobia creeping in as you felt the dark cement walls move in closer and closer. "Is there a bathroom I can use in here?" You asked, praying he wouldn't leave you with a bucket and a roll of toilet paper.
Simon laughed. He actually barked out a laugh, making you jump. "I meant you'll have to stay here with me." He clarified. "Not in the basement."
"Oh," the tenseness in your body seemed to ease up. "Good. It just feels..." you didn't finish. Too afraid to insult the man who quite literally held your life in his hands.
"No worries." he assured, finally taking his hand off of you to stand up. He held his palm out waiting for you to take his hand.
Without thinking twice, you did. Letting him help you stand even though your legs felt like they would give out at any minute. At the slight wobble of your knees, Simon took the liberty of scooping you up. A gasp escaping you.
Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Afraid that even though you had seen the man basically serve as a human battering-ram, you were afraid he would somehow drop you.
Simon's fingers ached to feel the softness of your thighs. He wanted to badly to come downstairs without his gear on. Bare himself to you. Reveal the face of the man behind the mask. Scars and all. He was worried that would have made it worse. Waking up in a basement, handcuffed to a bed with an unknown man aching to touch you.
He would show you his face soon enough. You would grow to love it. Each scar and imperfection on his face. His crooked nose and the touch of his calloused hands.
He planned to have you begging for it. To pepper kisses along his cheeks. Beg for his touch on your skin. Begging him to bury his fingers, his cock inside you. You would ache for him just as he had ached for you all this time.
You would fall as deeply as he had.
You would come to love your life with Simon.
No matter how long it took you to accept it.
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arieslost · 1 day
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ok i don’t know if it’s just me who gets really giggly when it’s late at night but imagine laying in bed with lando and you’re just rambling about smth so stupid that it ends with you two just giggling at nothing. like getting full on stomach cramps from laughing but there wasn’t even anything funny to begin with
anon u and i are the SAME! once its past midnight i always end up becoming a victim of the late night sillies 💔
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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1:30 am | ln4
you knew you were up too late when you nearly tripped over the loose edge of the blanket you and lando had been sharing on your way back to the couch, and when he had caught you before you could hit your head or anything, you started laughing.
“oh, no,” he’d groaned dramatically. “got the late night giggles already, huh?”
“uh-uh,” you shook your head, even though him saying the words “late night giggles” was enough to make laughter start bubbling up in your throat again.
something always shifted in you when the clock struck a certain hour at night, and lando had only been witness to it a handful of times before you moved in together.
now, you’d managed to get through the rest of the movie the two of you were watching without laughing, even if it meant biting your lip hard and refusing to make eye contact with your boyfriend. it was bad enough feeling his eyes on you every time he wanted to see your reaction to something that happened on the tv. making eye contact would just take you out entirely for no reason whatsoever.
which is why you think you’ve successfully avoided making a fool of yourself when you’re both finally laying in bed with the lights out at the fine hour of 1:30 in the morning.
“you’re so far away,” lando grumbles, dragging your body into his so his one arm is around your shoulders and your face is nestled in his neck.
“better?” you ask, smiling when he shivers as your lips brush his skin.
“mhmm.” he’s quiet for a moment, running his fingers up and down your arm. “you’re gonna come to miami, right?”
“yeah, if you want me to.”
“what kind of question is that, babe?” he cranes his neck in a way that tells you he’s fixing you with a judgy look even though you can’t see each other.
you shrug, feeling the giggles building up again for no reason whatsoever. “i dunno.”
“obviously i want you there, why wouldn’t i?”
“i dunno,” you repeat. “it’s miami. maybe you just wanna party with all your homies.” and just like that, you’re laughing again.
“oh dear god, here we go,” he sighs, pressing his lips together to repress his own laughter as your body shakes against his. “my homies? when have i ever referred to any of my mates as my ‘homie’?”
he sounds so incredulous that you laugh even harder. “oh, you’re so british! i can’t call them your mates, lan. it sounds too weird.”
“so homies is the word you went with? why can’t you be normal and just say my friends?”
“why can’t you be normal and say your friends?” you shoot back, and that does lando in.
“it’s not funny,” he tries to admonish, and it’s entirely true, but it’s a moot point when you can barely understand him through his laughter.
“stop laughing then!”
“you stop!”
naturally, that makes you both laugh harder still, to the point where you have to roll away from him, clutching your stomach from how badly all the laughing is making it hurt.
“i can’t breathe,” lando gasps from behind you.
“stop laughing,” you repeat. “you’re killing me.”
“i think i’m dying,” he continues like he didn’t hear you, and he honestly might not have because your face is half shoved into your pillow in your attempts to stifle yourself.
a few more minutes go by of the two of you absolutely losing your minds before you’re finally able to catch your breath.
“ow,” you whine, holding your stomach. “i think i just grew a six pack.”
“i think mine just became ten times more defined,” lando says, voice raspy from all the exertion on his vocal chords.
“ooh, lemme feel.”
“absolutely not, because you’re going to tickle me,” he grabs your wrist out of thin air. “i know your tricks, baby. i’ve laughed more than enough tonight thanks to you.”
“not my fault you’re weird and british.”
“i love you,” he says sweetly, pulling you back towards him and kissing your forehead. “now’s where you say, ‘i love you too.’”
“i love you too,” you reply dutifully, blindly reaching for his face so you can kiss him properly. “even though you’re weird and british.”
he kisses you again. “i thought it was especially because i’m weird and british.”
you snuggle into his side, now thoroughly exhausted. “please don’t make me laugh more, lan.”
you both know he’s right, of course, but you usually need to have the last word, so he lets you get away with it. he does love you, after all, even though you had him in stitches over nothing at 1:30 in the morning.
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word count: 790
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note: this was sooo self indulgent, like i was laughing as i wrote this because the term “homies” is so silly to me for some reason. also helped me test my dialogue skills!! n e wayz…
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
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lemonlover1110 · 3 days
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𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇!
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Pairing: Firefighter!Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Summary: Toji tries to be the best father he can to his baby boy
Warnings: Fluff
*This isn't finished and it probably won't be but do enjoy what I did end up writing🥹🫶 I'll do a different AU for firefighter Toji
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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“Toji!” You call out for your husband, wondering why he isn’t in bed. You approach the nursery, and that’s where you find your husband putting his finger under his son’s nose to check if he’s breathing. You never thought that you’d find Toji of all people doing this, but he really is doing everything he can to make sure the baby is breathing, while also making sure he doesn’t wake Megumi up.
Even after six months of having Megumi, Toji makes this part of his nightly routine. Megumi’s tiny stomach very visibly rises and falls, so there’s no need for Toji to be doing all of this. But Toji’s scared, and a new parent, so he still does.
He shushes you before you even dare speak too loud, you better not wake up the baby. You roll your eyes, a chuckle leaving your lips as you walk back to your bedroom, and your husband follows behind not too shortly after. 
“I love seeing you worry about the baby, but don’t you think you’re doing too much?” You ask him as you get in bed. Toji takes off his shirt before getting into bed right next to you. He pulls you into his warm embrace and kisses the top of your head. “Please tell me you turned off the alarm.”
“I have to get up and check up on him.” He responds, and you would laugh if you weren’t affected by it. Toji’s alarm wakes you up, and it’s annoying to be constantly woken up in the middle of the night. 
“Toji, you’re also really tired. If Megumi needs anything, he’ll cry.” You assure him, but Toji won’t listen to any of it. You understand him better than anybody since you’re also a new parent, but you already have to wake up to feed the hungry baby in the middle of the night, you don’t need to be woken up four other times by Toji.
“I still want to make sure he’s okay. What if he’s just sitting in his crib, waiting for daddy to come?” Toji asks, and you let out an exasperated sigh.
“You’re so right, Toji. But can you please go to the couch? I need to rest because I actually have to wake up and feed him.” You tell him, and Toji groans before letting go of you and sitting up on the bed. 
“You don’t mean it.” He says as he grabs his pillows. He drags his feet as he walks to the door, waiting for you to stop him. You hate to sleep without Toji but you’re tired and you don’t want to be woken up multiple times in the night for no reason.
“Close the door on your way out!” You yell at him, getting comfortable in your space. You want to go one night without interrupted sleep, and you hope tonight is that night. As much as it sucks to sleep without Toji, you need at least one night of good sleep. You hate to hurt his feelings, but you’re also too tired to care.
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“Look here, Megumi!” You put on your baby voice as you talk to your son, attempting to get him to look at your phone camera. Megumi doesn’t care though, he’s looking away, kicking his feet and yelling for the dog. He’s opening and closing his little fist in the direction of the dog, he can’t make it more clearer what he wants. “C’mon, baby, I want to send your father a cute picture.”
He keeps ignoring you, yelling to the dog. You watch the dog walk toward you and the baby, so you pick Megumi up from his play mat before the dog can lick the baby’s face. You take Megumi back to your bedroom, hoping that once you put him down on your bed, you can finally take the picture that you want to send to your husband. 
You put him down on the bed, and just as you open the phone camera to take the perfect picture before he can look away, you receive a call. Toji is calling to facetime, which is perfect timing. You accept it, immediately flipping the camera to put the attention on the baby.
“Oh my god, is that my cute little urchin wearing a sailor outfit?” Toji isn’t the type to fawn over this type of stuff, or so he thought. Toji has grown soft, in his own ways at least, for his baby boy. He’s laughing, calling his coworkers over to show off his baby. Yup, Toji has become that person.
Toji just loves being a father, he was scared that he wouldn’t. He knows some parents love their kids to death but don’t like being a parent at all– Luckily for him, that isn’t the case. He loves the fact that he’s teaching this little human the basics of how to live while also filling him with love. He loves it so much that he’s almost about to ask you for a second baby.
“You look tired.” You tell him when he stops showing off Megumi to everyone, flipping the camera on you. Toji is barely getting any sleep, even though you keep pushing him to get rest. 
“I’m fine.” He replies, and before you can argue with him, he changes the topic to more important manners, “Show me the baby, I miss him.”
“I was just showing you the baby.” You roll your eyes but you still turn the camera so Toji can watch his baby boy. 
“Megumi! Look at the phone.” Toji says, noticing how Megumi looks away. Megumi is stretching. Your hand goes to his tummy, tickling it which causes the baby to look back at you and giggle. It fills Toji up with immense joy but also regret that he can’t always be by Megumi’s side to experience it all.
Until he hears a sound you both dread, something that makes the loudest sigh leave your lips. That part is the only thing he hates about being a father. 
“Alright, I’ll see you later.” You hang up the phone before Toji can even mutter a goodbye, picking up the baby and taking him to the changing table.
You realize that in the past six months, you haven’t had any proper alone time with him. You’re both too focused on being the best parent to Megumi, that you’ve completely put your relationship on the side. He’s put everything on hold, even his own health, to be there for Megumi whenever he’s free. 
You miss him, and while you knew that your life would completely change the moment Megumi came along, you didn’t expect to be so separated from him. You want to get Megumi off your hands for a couple of hours so you can spend some nice alone time with Toji, without having him worry about Megumi needing something. 
It’s hard to get Megumi off your hands, especially when he’s so attached to you. He’s also a crybaby which certainly doesn’t help your case. 
“Do you want to go see your daddy soon?” You ask your son, picking him up from the changing table. It’s not like he can answer, so you take his coo as a yes. You need to arrange something with the help of a couple of people, and who’s better for this than some of Toji’s coworkers?
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“Fushiguro! You have some visitors here!” Toji hears from the kitchen, and he raises his brows, wondering who’s looking for him. When he walks into the kitchen, his heart skips a beat at the sight of his wife and son. Toji practically runs to your side when he sees you, pecking your lips before he takes Megumi from your arms.
“What are you two doing here?” Toji’s happiness radiates off his voice. Out of all things, he didn’t expect you and his son to come visit, but here you are. Toji kisses Megumi’s chubby cheek, while the baby’s hand grips the collar of his dad’s shirt.
“Just wanted to visit daddy for a bit since you’re always complaining about not spending enough time with Megumi.” You give him your best smile before you catch a glimpse of the woman that you came here to talk to. You squeeze Toji’s forearm before telling him, “I have to talk to Yuki, I’ll be right back.”
“Huh?” Toji furrows his brows but ultimately he doesn’t care because he has his baby boy in his arms and Megumi is trying to shove his hand into Toji’s mouth. He often wishes he could trade places with you– Toji loves his job but the moment Megumi took his first breath, he became Toji’s first priority. His favorite person; and you, of course. 
“Yuki, can we talk?” Your voice comes off as a whisper, and she raises her brows. A smirk comes to her lips before she lets out,
“Are we getting another mini Toji?” She’s rather loud, and you feel your face burn. You look absolutely mortified, and she bursts into laughter. She nudges her head to the table and begins to walk to it, making you follow behind. She pulls out a chair for you, but you shake your head since you don’t really have plans of staying for long. “What’s up?”
“You’re the person here that I trust the most… And you’re great with baby Megumi.” You bring up, and you feel yourself dragging it out. She knows, but she waits for you to say it, tapping her finger on the table as she waits for you to ask the question. “Can you take care of Megumi on Friday? I want to go out with Toji.”
“Man… I don’t know, I’m not that great with kids.” She responds, and you know it’s a lie, at least from what you’ve seen she’s great with Megumi. You’re willing to argue just about anything because you want to get Megumi off your hands for a night. 
“Really? Baby Megumi adores you.” You claim, which isn’t a lie, but Megumi likes just about anyone. “It’s a way for baby Megumi and his favorite auntie to get closer.”
She laughs, she knows what you’re doing, but she doesn’t mind. She has Friday off and has no important plans so she might as well try to figure out what goes on in a baby’s mind. She ends up saying, “As long as I don’t have to take him anywhere, I’m not sure how I’d work a carseat on a motorcycle.”
“Of course! If anything comes up you can call me and we’ll be at home within minutes.” You answer excitedly, and before you run in search for Toji, and even though he was just in the kitchen, he’s nowhere near the place when you look for him.
“Toji!” You call out for him, unsure of where he went with the baby. The firehouse is a big place, you sure aren’t going to look in every room. 
“Check the fire truck!” You hear from Yuki, and you roll your eyes at the mere suggestion. She’s not looking at it, you’re not going to entertain it– But she also knows Toji and that sounds like something he’d do. You stop in your tracks and let out a sigh before going to the firetruck. 
You walk over to the driver’s side, opening the door to find Toji putting Megumi’s hands on the wheel– A sight you find the most hilarious since Toji made it his mission to put a firefighter hat on the baby’s head; but you notice it’s smaller, leading you to assume that Toji bought this just for him and kept it hidden until now.
“Look, honey, Megumi told me he wanted to be just like his daddy when he grew up.” Toji chuckles, moving Megumi’s hands on the wheel which Toji finds hilarious. Megumi doesn’t find it as funny though. 
“Baby, he can barely sit up. Try it again in a few more months.” You say as you take the baby from his arms, and Toji clicks his tongue. He follows behind you as you walk back to the kitchen to take the diaper bag and go back to your car.
“Why are you leaving so soon?” He asks, annoyed that you’ve given him his baby and taken him away just as quickly.
“We just came to say hi and talk to Yuki, and since we’ve done that, we can go home now.” You respond. The man is pouting, something that you never thought you’d see from a man as big as Toji. When you have the diaper bag in your possession, you peck his lips, “Go save lives, baby.”
“What did you need to talk to Yuki about?” Toji questions, wondering what was so important that you decided to come all the way here.
“Babysitting, we’re going out on Friday.” You tell him, and his brows perk up. He’d think that would be more of a question instead of a statement, but it’s the latter. “You can’t say no, we haven’t had some proper alone time in months.”
“I wasn’t going to say no.” He mutters, crossing his arms and looking at the ground like a child. He was going to say no, and you can’t help but chuckle. Your hand goes under his chin and you begin to inspect his face.
“You’re also turning off those alarms to get proper rest. I think you’re annoying Megumi too by constantly coming into his room to invade his space.” And before he can argue with you, you leave him alone to share his thoughts with himself.
He guesses you're right.
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golden-cherry · 1 day
Text
deal - cl16 (28/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: Your pillow is comfortable - just like Charles' lap.
Warnings: 18+ (dry humping, mentions of sex), fluff, tiny bit of angst, Lando is a little shit
Word Count: 4.5k
series masterlist
previous part
A/N: since you were all so patient with me - you deserve this. I hope you're sat, because y/n definitely is. feedback is appreciated!
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"Good morning, mon amour," Charles whispers softly in your ear before you feel a faint puff of air against your cheek. Something soft and warm presses gently against your temple. "It's still quite early. You can go back to sleep if you want to." He rests his chin on your shoulder and you feel his chest against your back. "I'd like to go jogging, if that's okay with you."
Sleepy - and confused - you snuggle further into your comfy pillow. It's still dark in the room, but through the window you can already see the horizon changing color and announcing a new day. You yawn tiredly and close your eyes again. "You're waking me up to tell me you're going jogging? Are you crazy? Couldn't you have just written me a note or a text?"
Charles exhales through his nose. "I'm sorry, chérie. There was no other way. I have an appointment with my trainer and I'm already late." He gently puts his hand on your bare hip, where the shirt has ridden up and exposed a sliver of your skin. "All you have to do is let go of my arm and then I'll be gone and you can go back to sleep."
Your pillow moves almost imperceptibly beneath you and you raise your head to examine it, puzzled. You realize that you have been lying on Charles' arm and your hand has found its place on his forearm. You suppress a smile as you lie back down and press your cheek into the soft inside of his upper arm. "Nope. Unfortunately not possible. I'm afraid your arm is too comfortable for me to let you go right now."
Charles's fingers press a little harder into your hip, but his arm stays in place. "I won't be long. I promise." 
Drowsy and not fully conscious, you turn in his arms and lift your leg, only to wrap it around his waist and press yourself against him. The tip of your nose touches his bare chest. "You said yesterday that we would continue to share a bed so that I could sleep better. So you have no choice but to stay here with me." As you absentmindedly kiss his chest and press your hip against yours, you feel warm.
Charles laughs softly, but doesn't disagree with you. Instead, his arms wrap around you a little tighter. The hand that was on your hip a moment ago slides up your spine under your shirt. His fingertips dance over your warm skin until his hand rests gently on the nape of your neck, where it lingers lightly. "As far back as I can remember, I said I'd hold you in my arms if it meant you'd sleep better."
You gently lift your head from his chest so that you can look at him. Charles' eyes are closed, but a slight smile pulls the corners of his mouth upwards. "You do realize that you're digging yourself in deeper, don't you?"
He slowly opens his eyes and looks down at you. Without hesitation, he rolls you onto your back. You feel his weight on top of you as his hand disappears from your neck and rests against your thigh, keeping your leg wrapped around his waist. "How silly. Looks like I've lost now." 
His weight on you, his warm breath on your face and his fingertips disappearing under the hem of your shorts cloud your thoughts. You look at him from under your eyelashes and have to swallow as his gaze darts from your eyes to your mouth and back up again. "How silly."
He opens his mouth slightly and he's so close to you that you can make out the different shades of green in his irises despite the darkness. His beard shades his beautiful face and you want to rub your cheek against it. Or feel the stubble on your thighs. Or - 
Charles leans so far down towards you that the tips of your noses touch. As he licks his lips, you think you can feel his tongue on your mouth. But maybe you're just too tired and imagining it. "I'd love to stay in this bed with you forever," Charles whispers, and as his fingers slide a little higher under your shorts, almost touching the curve of your ass, you involuntarily arch up towards him. Just as you think you can feel the hardness of his abdomen, he pushes himself off the bed with his other hand and pulls away. "But I really need to go jogging." A brief moment later, he stands in front of the bed and scratches the back of his neck. "I thought I might go grocery shopping afterwards. Just text me if you think of anything else you might need." 
Distracted by the warmth in your lower belly, you stare at him as he slips into the sports shorts you were wearing yesterday morning. His smell clings to you and you can't think straight as he sits down on the edge of the bed to pull white tennis socks over his feet. You push the covers off you and crawl across the bed to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Your hands rest on his warm chest. "You're mean, Charles." You brush a kiss on the soft skin under his ear and can feel his heart skip a beat.
He pauses in his movement. "You haven't called me that in days." He tilts his head a little so he can look at you. 
Puzzled, you return his gaze. "What do you mean? I always call you Charles."
Slowly, his fingers wrap around your wrists so that he can wriggle out of your embrace. But only so that his arm can wrap around your waist and he can pull you onto his lap. As you sit astride his thighs, he cups your chin with his thumb and forefinger so you have no choice but to look at him. 
He shakes his head slightly. "You called me Charles. English pronunciation. You've been calling me Charles since we had dinner with the others the other night."
You raise an eyebrow and squirm on his legs under his unyielding gaze. "And what did I call you now?"
"Sharl. French pronunciation." A glint sparkles in his eyes. 
"Is that good? Or bad?" you ask unknowingly and innocently, running your fingers through the short hair on the back of his neck. 
"What do you think?" His voice is no more than a whisper as his other arm wraps around your back and pulls you completely onto his lap so that you can barely move. Once again, his fingers slip just below the hem of your pajama shorts, fingertips almost digging into your flesh as he presses your crotch against his noticeable bulge. So hard that you might end up with bruises on your hips. But you don't care. You gasp in response. "Do I like this or not?"
The warmth that was previously spread throughout your body moves south, and you feel your arousal pooling in your shorts. The word friendship flashes faintly in your mind, but as Charles gently but firmly moves you over his hard-on and a low moan escapes his throat, you can't help but block it out completely. 
"Charles," you almost whine as you rock your hips back and forth without a thought and the tip of his brief-clad cock nudges against your clit. Electricity flashes through your veins and your skin burns where Charles touches you and you close your eyes, flushed with pleasure. 
"Nuh-uh." Charles's hand moves from your chin to the column of your throat and rests just at the base of your neck. "Look at me, mon amour." His voice is deep and smoky as he makes you look into his eyes. Through half-opened eyes and with his mouth open, he grinds you over his boner, his breath stumbling and warming your face as you can do nothing but surrender to the sensation. 
Never in your life have you desired someone as much as Charles. Charles, exhaling as if relieved that he can release some tension, while your fingers dig into his shoulder blades to make sure he doesn't stop. The hem of your pyjamas and his boxer shorts rub so deliciously against your bundle of nerves and you moan shamelessly as the gorgeous man beneath you bites his lower lip, wishing it was yours he was nibbling on. 
"Charles, please," you beg, even though you don't know what for. You want his fingers on your throat, his mouth on yours. You want to feel how soft his lips are as he slides his cock home until you fall apart on him. You want to hear him say how good you feel, how much he desires you and that he lo-
"Fuck," Charles snaps you out of your thoughts, and before you can realize it, he releases his arm from your body and leans to the side, where his phone is on the edge of the bed, ringing. 
When you see the panic in his eyes, you quickly slide off his lap and cover yourself with the blanket again. All of a sudden you feel vulnerable and naked, even though you're still wearing the shirt and shorts. You interlace your fingers in your lap. 
"I'm sorry, Andrea." Charles tucks his cell phone between his ear and shoulder as he slips on the turquoise Puma shirt you were wearing yesterday morning. He lifts the hem once and smells it, and for a brief moment his eyes flicker to you before he hurries out of the room, leaving you alone in the bedroom. You hear him continuing to talk in the hallway.
Startled and a little repulsed, you sit on the bed. How did you let it get this far? Charles is your best friend - a fact you told Joris and which was later confirmed to you in person by your roommate. 
So why did you just fall over each other like teenagers who can't keep their hands off each other when no one is looking? Why did you allow yourselves to dry hump each other when you are nothing more than friends? Why did everything Charles did and said turn you on so much that the inside of your thighs are sticky with your arousal? And why did it feel so damn right?
You run your hand through your tousled hair. You've never felt anything like you have in the last few minutes. You've never desired someone as much as the man whose touch made you turn to putty in his hands. As if your brain had been switched off, you gave yourself to him without thinking about what the consequences might be. 
What would happen now? Would Charles still talk to you? Would you talk about it? Would it happen again? 
Before you can think about it any more, Charles enters the bedroom again. His feet are now in sneakers and he has put on a jacket over his shirt. When he sees you sitting at the head of the bed, the comforter thrown over you and with big, worried eyes, his gaze softens. He crosses the room in three steps and sits on the edge of the bed with you before reaching for yours with one hand and intertwining your fingers. 
"We're okay, aren't we?" he asks gently, lifting your chin with his free hand as you try to avoid his gaze. When you look at him, the sparkle from a moment ago is still there. "I - I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let it get this far. We're friends and the last thing I want is to lose you over this." He almost stumbles over his words when you don't say anything back. "We're still friends, aren't we?" You can see tears gathering on the line of his eyelashes. 
You are so relieved that you want to hug him. You smile at him. "Of course we're friends, Charles. Best friends," you assure him, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. "There's nothing that could change that."
The man in front of you blinks away the tears and returns your smile before squeezing your hand twice. "I really have to go now. Like I said, if you need anything from the supermarket, please text me. Then I can pick it up for you." He releases his hand from yours and stands up from the bed. "See you later." He leans forward a tiny bit and you can practically see the gears in his brain turning until he merely smiles at you and then disappears. As the apartment door slams shut behind him, you exhale. 
Everything's fine between you, you tell yourself as you unplug your phone from the charger and glance at the clock. 9:30 am. You could go back to bed and sleep, but as you lay your head on the pillow, the smell of last night's smoke creeps into your nose. The whole bed smells like a campfire, and your skin and hair smell like you've been wallowing in ashes, so you decide to wash the sheets and jump in the shower. 
The washing machine makes a gentle whirring sound as you switch it on and then head to the fridge to prepare yourself a little breakfast. However, when you realize that there is nothing in the fridge that would be suitable, you hang your head in resignation. Apparently, the ingredients Charles used for the pancakes yesterday were the very last leftovers, so the fridge is empty apart from a pickle jar and a few bottles of water. 
Without further ado, you shoot Charles a text to ask him to bring something for breakfast before you gather your bathroom utensils from your suitcase in the bedroom, undress in the bathroom and set the water in the shower to the right temperature. Since you have some time before Charles returns from his jog and the supermarket, you take all the time in the world. You shampoo your hair and rinse it thoroughly before leaving a generous amount of conditioner in your hair. Meanwhile, you exfoliate your body, shave carefully - and actually manage not to cut your knuckles. The lavender and vanilla shower gel soothes your frayed nerves, while you keep telling yourself that everything is fine between you and Charles, like you talked about. 
You banish the feeling that his every touch felt good and right to the back of your mind and as you turn off the water and wrap yourself in a soft towel, it's almost as if nothing ever happened between you. 
You focus on the fact that you have to look good today, because you are invited to Charles' mother's for dinner later, so you spend a lot of time taming your hair and picking out a nice outfit. You decide on a pair of dark jeans and a light blouse and button up the last button as your cell phone beeps on the kitchen island. 
Charles: No problem. I think I'll be home in an hour. It'll be too late for a proper breakfast then, but how about some fruit and yogurt?
And indeed. It's now just after 12 o'clock and the washing machine seems to be doing its last spin cycle, because its humming gets louder before it goes quiet and only beeps a few times. You quickly put the wet bed sheets in the dryer before answering Charles.
You: You're the best. See you soon.
While you wait for your roommate to come home, you rummage through the things Kika picked out yesterday and scatter them around the apartment. You put the fake plants on the windowsill in your room and place a vase on the worktop in the kitchen. Then grab some picture frames and stand in the hallway to find out which places on the wall are suitable for which frame. Charles is sure to have enough beautiful photos from all over the world to decorate your home, because unfortunately you don't yet have any pictures together that you could hang on the wall. But that's okay. After all, you've only been friends for a few days. 
When the front door opens a short time later, two men are standing opposite you, one of whom - thank God - is Charles. When he sees you, a smile spreads across his face. 
"We've done some shopping," he explains, lifting the bags he's holding in his hands. Then he looks at the man next to him. "This is Andrea, by the way, my personal trainer and close friend." He walks towards you and briefly looks you up and down. "You look good," he says casually as he walks past you and glances over his shoulder. "Come on, Andrea. The stuff needs to go in the fridge. 
"Don't stress me out like that," the man in front of you replies, rolling his eyes in an annoyed manner. "I'm Andrea, nice to meet you." He places one of his bags on the floor before holding out his hand to you. 
You introduce yourself to him too and shake his hand. " Likewise. I wasn't expecting you to bring half the supermarket with you," you joke, reaching for the bag he's put down before you both head towards the kitchen. 
"Me neither," Andrea replies, shrugging her shoulders. "Charles insisted because he didn't want you to want for anything. Now that you live here too."
"Andrea," Charles warns his friend as he puts the milk and eggs in the fridge. 
"Don't play pretend," he defends himself and puts his bag down on the worktop. "I'm just repeating what you said." He takes your plastic bag from you and puts it on the worktop too. "I'll leave you two alone then. After all, you've got a lot to do today." He turns in your direction and smiles at you before planting a kiss on your cheek left and right. "It was nice meeting you, but I'm afraid I have to go. But I'm sure we'll be seeing more of each other."
"I guess so."
He nods briefly, turning to your roommate. "And you let me know about the trip. Then I can arrange everything."
Charles, who is putting food in the fridge with a concentration as if he were taking part in a Tetris competition, waves his hand once in the direction of his trainer. "I will. Ciao!"
Andrea leaves your apartment as quickly as he had arrived, and as the door slams shut behind him, you turn to your friend. "A trip? Where are you off to?"
"I have to go through a training camp to prepare for next season. But I'll tell you about that later." After he's put everything away neatly, he closes the fridge and turns in your direction. "I've just spoken to my mother on the phone. Dinner will be around seven, but we can come over before that, before my brothers show up, if you don't mind." He grabs a glass from the cupboard and pours himself some water before taking a big gulp. "So I'd just jump in the shower and get ready. And then we can go as soon as you're ready."
You smile at him. "All right. Do you still want to eat something small? Then I could cut up some fruit and prepare some yoghurt if you like," you offer. 
He nods thankfully to you before pulling his shirt over his back and off his upper body in one fluid motion. The workout has made his muscles look even more defined than usual. Not that you waste much time staring at his naked torso. 
"That would be nice. I'll just jump in the shower," he says before disappearing into the bathroom. As he turns on the shower, you hear the water hitting the floor. 
You're a little surprised that your little session doesn't seem to be having any effect. The worries you had that the atmosphere between you might now be strained fizzle out and the only thing that remains is the bitter aftertaste that Charles doesn't seem to be bothered by the fact that you were dry humping as friends and there was a possibility that your friendship had come to an end. 
Does it really not affect him that you were both playing with fire a few hours ago? Or is he just good at covering it up and acting as if nothing had happened?
But when you remember how upset he was sitting next to you on the bed afterwards, with tears in his eyes for fear of losing you as a friend, the negative thoughts disappear from your mind. He probably wants to put the whole thing behind him because it would really bother him if you were no longer friends. 
And since you feel the same way, you cut up some fruit without giving it a second thought until your cell phone, which is lying on the kitchen island in front of you, vibrates. An incoming Facetime call from - Lando? 
Why is he calling you? And especially on Facetime? Has something happened to him? Does he need help?
You quickly put the knife aside and wipe your hands on a kitchen towel before answering the call. When the British man's face appears on your screen, you breathe a sigh of relief. He's apparently lying on the couch at home, the hood of his hoodie pulled up over his curls and a broad grin adorning his face. 
"Hi, Lando," you greet him and lean your phone against the vase so that you can continue preparing the fruit. "What can I do for you?"
"Is Charles with you?" he asks as you turn around and take two bowls from the cupboard behind you to divide the fruit halfway between them. 
"He's in the shower," you reply, tilting your head. " Why? Did something happen?"
"No, everything's fine," he says and smiles. "I was just trying to reach him on his cell phone. But when he is taking a shower, it's obvious that he won't answer." 
"'Who's not answering?" you hear Charles say as he leaves the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Single drops of water snake across his chest and down the ridges of his abs before disappearing into the fabric of the towel, which hangs quite low on his hips. You have to swallow briefly and just point at your cell phone. When Charles comes into Lando's field of vision, he nods briefly. "Sorry, I was in the shower. Have you tried to call me?"
Lando, blinking silently at the camera, nods. "Uh, yeah. I wanted to invite you both to a party. After Christmas." He struggles to suppress a smile, and even though the screen is so small, you can see his gaze jump from Charles to you. "My friend Martin is coming here to DJ at a club. If you're up for it, you're both welcome to come."
Charles, who is standing to the side behind you, rests his chin on your shoulder. After this morning, you didn't expect to find Charles back in your personal space so quickly. Whether he realizes you're holding your breath, you don't know. "I don't see what's wrong with that, do you?" The question is directed at you. As you shake your head weakly, your roommate smiles at the camera and puts his hand on your hip. "Then we're definitely in." Suddenly, you feel Charles' lips on your temple as he presses a gentle kiss to your skin. "I'm just going to get ready." With that, he disappears from Lando's sight and, as he enters your bedroom, from yours too.
The way Lando's eyes widen briefly doesn't escape you. "Great. Then I'll put you on the guest list and send you the details." As your gaze shifts from your room back to the Brit, Lando looks back at you with a grin that almost reaches his ears. 
"Lando," you warn him in the same tone Charles just used with Andrea. "Leave it alone."
"I didn't say anything," he defends himself, but the grin doesn't disappear from his face. You'd love to wipe it off his cheek. "So, are you two - ?"
You roll your eyes. "We're friends, Lando. Nothing more, nothing less," you explain to him, but you seem to be falling on deaf ears, because the Brit doesn't seem to believe a word you're saying. 
"Friends with benefits? Or why did Charles just behave like that?"
"What do you mean, like that?" you ask him, tilting your head in confusion. To keep your hands busy, you fill the bowls of fruit with yogurt and add some sweetener before stirring everything. 
"So possessive. So jealous," he explains, as if it's no big deal. Which it certainly wouldn't have been if it hadn't been for this morning's action. 
"You don't know what you're talking about," you retort snappishly, your mouth forming a thin line. "Sorry, that's not what I meant."
"It's all cool. But if you get married, I'll be the guest of honor as matchmaker," he replies, before holding his phone close to his face and grinning broadly at the camera. "And then I'll give a speech about how stupid you both were at the beginning because you didn't want to admit that you were meant to be together."
When you hear Charles' footsteps in the hallway, you quickly reach for your cell phone. "Lando."
"I'm just saying, friends don't look at each other the way you look at him. And that friends don't act as possessive as he does." He raises his free hand, puts his thumb and forefinger together before pulling it over his mouth and pretending to seal his lips with it. "I'm not saying anything more about it."
"Who says no more to what?" Charles asks as he enters the kitchen. 
"Nobody to anything anymore. Bye, Lando," you quickly say goodbye and end the Facetime call, knowing full well that you're sure to get a few more messages from the Brit lovingly mocking you. 
"Oh-kay." Charles sits down opposite you at the kitchen islands and grabs one of the yogurt bowls. You watch him as he shoves spoonful after spoonful into his mouth. "Everything all right?"
"Everything's fine," you reply with a sugary smile and start spooning up your yoghurt too. "I'm just nervous about meeting your mom. I hope she'll like me," you try to change the subject. 
"She definitely will," your flatmate tries to reassure you. "Just be yourself and then she'll love you. And so will my brothers." He reaches across the worktop for your hand and squeezes it twice. "Loving you is easier than you might think."
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frenchkisstheabyss · 3 days
Text
♡Good Form♡
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♡ Pairing: boyfriend!yunho x chubby!fem!reader x best friend!mingi
♡ Genre: smut/a lil dash of fluff
♡ Summary: When you decide to have some late night fun with your boyfriend in the kitchen, the furthest thing from your mind is that your best friend might walk in and see you but when he does you're both more than happy to have him there.
♡ Word Count: 3k-ish
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♡ Warnings: Yunho gives dom vibes. Mingi's a bit shy at first. Threesome (the boys don't touch each other though). They have a real thing for your chubby body. They're overall obsessed w/ you truly. Unprotected sex. Creampie. Oral sex (f & m receiving/heavy on the f receiving). Fingering. Multiple orgasms. Nipple play. Tit sucking. Hair pulling. Nibbling. Ass slapping. Overstimulation. Cum swallowing. Cum swapping. Squirting. A lil edging. Clit slapping. I use the word "pussy" cause I'm not a "cunt" gal. Lots of bodily fluids. Pet names (baby, angel)
♡ A/N: I've been writing a lot of really thoughtful, emotional pieces lately and this...is totally not one of them. It has it's moments but really it's 3k words of filth. I'm for sure gonna do a part 2 because I feel like I can do more with this but for now enjoy your hot girl moment, babes. You deserve it.
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You'll never grow tired of this sound...
Yunho slurping down your juices, his soft lips pursed around your clit. Every decadent, unpredictable stroke of his tongue makes your thighs tremble. Three long, dexterous fingers pump in and out of your core drowning you in pleasure.
Yunho had sincerely wandered into the kitchen for a midnight snack when he stumbled upon you here. Bent over in the fridge with your deliciously plush ass peeking from the bottom of your red lace panties, you instantly became the only thing his taste buds craved.
You had your hand on an ice cold bottle of water when you felt two strong hands spreading your thighs apart. “Up a little late aren’t you?” he teased, stroking your slit through the barely there material. Your breath hitched, the cool air from the refrigerator the only thing to ease the heat consuming your body. “I couldn’t sleep and I—mmm—I just wanted—ah.”
Yunho tucked your panties to the side, sinking his middle finger into you. You were already so needy and wet, so easily turned on at the slightest bit of attention from him, that he could've never stopped there. “Just wanted what, baby?” he whispered, dropping to his knees, “Tell me what you want.” It tickled when you felt his lips brush against your skin, leading a trail of kisses around the curve of your ass and down your thighs.
“Yunie, I can’t—fuck, I can’t think” you moaned, holding onto one of the shelves to keep your legs from giving out. “Aww, baby” he smiled, slapping your ass hard enough to make it jiggle, “You don’t have to.”
Yunho knows where your sweet spot is. How to rotate his wrist and curl his finger at the perfect angle to make your body surrender to him. He had you wrapped around his finger—clenching—literally. You were dripping by the time he slipped your panties down to drink from you like the sweetest fountain. He made sure you came twice before he lifted you onto the counter and spread your aching legs open to taste you more.
Backed into a corner, one foot up on each side of the counter, you’re completely at his mercy and this is exactly where you want to be. Nibbling at your bottom lip, you stare down at him with those beautifully glossy eyes of yours.
Yunho tilts his head up to meet your gaze, fluffy dark brown hair framing his face, and it’s obvious he’s as blissed out as you are. He suckles at your clit as he pulls back just enough for you to see your sensitive bud twitching in response to him. Without warning he buries his face between your legs, humming with pleasure as he completely devours you.
You throw your head back, stars illuminating your vision. “Yunie, please don’t stop” you beg, fingers tangling in his hair as he wrecks you in the best way. Just when the pressure inside of you reaches its peak, your pussy ready to turn into a waterfall, you notice a figure standing in the doorway.
Mingi? Fuck. You’ve been so swept up in the moment, blinded by lust, that you completely forgot Mingi was staying over tonight.
It’s coming up on 4 years since you met Yunho and Mingi in a cramped club your friend’s band was playing at. The crowd that night was completely out of control. A swirling pit of drunks in desperate need of therapy. Just trying to get to the bathroom was a death wish. Yunho and Mingi didn’t have to step in to protect you but they did and they have ever since.
It never occurred to you to ask why they helped you. You saw it in the way they watched you at the restaurant after, like you were some shiny new toy they had acquired. Only Mingi treated you like a collector’s item, too delicate to take off of the shelf. He thought it better to admire you, imagine what it’d be like to play with you, but could never get the courage to do it.
Yunho, on the other hand, wasted no time taking you out of the box. Everything about you was too alluring for him to deny. His hunger for you then was as intense as it is now and he needed to indulge or he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Mingi hides it well, at least he thinks he does, but he regrets it. He wishes you knew how badly he wants you to be his in every sense of the word. Could you even fathom the things he’d do to trade places with his best friend right now?
Mingi knows that he should turn around—go back to the guest room, pretend nothing ever happened—but he’s too hypnotized by you to do it. “Hi, Mmm-Mingi” you giggle, noticing the thick bulge in his sweatpants. Mingi follows your gaze down to a cock hard enough to split you in two. You smile at him like you’d love to see him try it. You would. “Yunie,” you coo, tapping him on the back of the neck, “We have company.”
Yunho doesn’t register it at first, too intoxicated by your pussy to process anything that comes out of your mouth as coherent language. Mingi’s eyes widen and you can almost hear the gears turning in his head. He’s scared out of his mind and insanely horny, a combination of things he’s never felt before and has no clue what to do with. Yunho’s motions slow as he deprives you of his tongue. His fingers slide out of you, soaked in your arousal.
“Company?” he asks, rising to his feet, lips dripping wet.
You nod, pointing to Mingi, “I think we woke him up.”
Yunho lets out a low, playful chuckle, turning only halfway to greet his best friend. “Fuck,” Mingi mumbles, frantically scanning the kitchen for something else to look at. “I wasn’t looking! I swear! I came to grab my…” Spotting the spice rack beside him, he blindly grabs the first thing he sees. “Chili pepper flakes? Yeah, they’re so good for a late night snack, you know?”
Unconvinced but amused by his attempt, Yunho turns back to face you. He lures you into a kiss, sharing with you the delightfulness of your taste. He rests the back of his hand against your core, knuckles grazing your clit just enough to keep you on edge. “Can I share?” he asks between the feverish clashing of your tongues. “Mmmhmm” you gasp, your back arching at the return of his touch. Yunho shakes his head, hands riding your curves up to where your nipples poke through your shirt.
He takes your supple breast into his hand, massaging it as he rolls your nipple between his fingertips. “Baby, that won’t do. I need to hear you say it this time. Tell me what you want.” You tilt your head to the side, taking in the tall, handsome blonde watching you. “You can share me, Yunie” you whisper, breath tickling the side of his neck, “I want it.” He pinches your nipple, locking his other arm around your waist, “Aah, good girl. That wasn’t so hard was it? Now hold onto me.”
You do as you’re told and cling to him in time to be lifted from the smooth marble counter. Yunho kisses you once more as he spins you around. A dizzying transition that ends in you draped across the kitchen table. “Are you joining or are you just gonna watch?” Yunho asks Mingi, too distracted with the cute squishy belly poking from the bottom your shirt to actually face him.
Mingi can hear his heart thumping its way out of his chest. He has to be hearing things. “Oh, I—you can’t be—are you s…” he stutters, squeezing the life out of that poor bottle of chili pepper flakes. Yunho nibbles at your exposed belly before turning to confront the confusion on Mingi’s face, “Serious? Yes. I’m serious. I know you’ve always wanted her so…come get her.”
Mingi hesitates, still unsure if it’s a trick or not. The chance that Yunho will murder him if he actually tries seems higher than this not being a fever dream. Shifting to get more comfortable on the table, you hold your hand out to Mingi, your body calling to him like a siren beckons sailors to their doom. It’s enough to make him drop everything, to abandon all these years of pretending.
Mingi carefully makes his way over to you, taking your hand in his. You’re beautiful at any angle but there’s something about this one—you staring up at him from the filthiest position with the most innocent eyes—that really gets him.
It’s the perfect angle for you too, one your boyfriend knows you’ve fantasized about. These two broad shouldered angels looming over you, bathing you in their admiration. “Kiss me” you whisper, palming Mingi’s cock through his thick sweatpants. Mingi grunts at the euphoric release of tension as his lips latch onto yours, his kiss ravenous and sloppy. His platinum hair falls into your face, immersing you in the crisp floral scent of his shampoo.
Yunho watches as Mingi snatches your shirt up, taking his time to enjoy how your tits bounce when they pop free. Pushing your legs back, Yunho drags his fingers between your lips to pull back the hood of your clit. He flicks his thumb up and down, smiling as you arch and wiggle beneath him. Mingi sneaks a glimpse down at Yunho, breaking the kiss to hear your moans. For the first time he doesn’t have to listen through the walls, you’re making all those sinful noises right before his eyes and it’s glorious to behold.
“You’re so cute” Mingi says, cupping your fluffy cheeks. “You—ah—think so?” you ask, tucking a finger into the waist of his sweatpants. You slip your hand inside, taking as much of him into your hand as you can. Mingi pulls them down for you and you audibly gasp at the gorgeous cock that springs free. You glide up and down, circling the head with your thumb. Mingi cups one of your breasts, kneading the plush flesh as drags his tongue down to your nipple. “Mmhmm” he hums, stuffing his mouth full of you, “So fucking cute.” 
You lay there breathless—trying to talk your trembling body down from your next orgasm—when you feel the throbbing head of Yunho’s cock rub up and down your entrance. “You ready for me, baby?” he asks, raising your legs up to balance your ankles on his shoulders. When he does it presses him into you a little bit further and you cry out, raising your hips for more. “Mmm—ready for you Yunie.” Yunho snaps his hips, bottoming out in one thrust that sends electricity dancing through your body.
A soft tug brings Mingi in close enough that you can turn and lick the precum leaking from the tip of his cock. “Fuck, that feels so good” he moans, rising to push deeper into your throat. Your tongue curls on the underside of his cock, the textured roof of your mouth dragging along it as he fucks your throat.
This is what they’ve wanted since the night you met. What you’ve wanted too. It’s so satisfying, like scratching an itch you never could quite reach, to let them take you together. Their hands glide across your velvet smooth skin, exploring every inch of you. They’re so careful with you, matching paces to keep you comfortable. All you have to do is lay here and let them take care of you—let them worship you.
Yunho caresses your legs, fingers digging into your hips, “I feel you clenching, baby. You close?” You know he expects an answer even if you’re currently drooling around Mingi’s cock. You give him a muffled, “Yes.” But that’s not nearly enough for either of them. Mingi grabs you by the hair, pulling out to leave your mouth painfully empty. “Your voice is too pretty not to hear” he says, stroking your lips, “You ready to come for us, baby? Gonna let me see how good you look coming on your boyfriend’s cock?”
“Yes, Mingi. I’m gonna c—oh my—ah…” you whimper only for Mingi to shove himself back inside of you before you can finish speaking. Not that you’re complaining. The men exchange a brief glance, returning their attention to you with something new in mind. They move faster and harsher, struggling as much as you do to keep it together. They could both come right now from the way you pulsate your walls around Yunho or the way your throat muscles flutter around Mingi. But there’s no question that it has to be you first. 
Your eyelids grow heavy, the pressure bursting inside of you, and suddenly gravity doesn’t exist anymore. Mingi holds your hand and Yunho rubs your belly as you squirt down his length. Yunho licks his lips at the mess you've made of his pants, the wet spot growing the more you bounce down onto him. “That’s it, baby. Use my fucking cock, angel.” He lays his hand flat on your clit and slaps it just enough for you to feel the sharpness of the contact.
It makes you clench even tighter—the tightest he’s ever felt you—and he can’t take it anymore. He spills into you, filling you so far beyond your limit that your pussy’s gushing it back out at him before he’s even empty. Mingi plays with your nipples, pinching one and then the other, switching every time you get too used to the feeling.
Your mouth falls open, your overstimulated body beginning to go limp. You keep it open, tongue hanging out to welcome the thick ropes of come Mingi empties into your mouth. It collects in the back of your throat making your moans sound like tiny gurgles. What’s left leaks from the corners of your mouth and Mingi kisses you quickly, swapping the warm, salty liquid back and forth between the two of you until it’s nothing.
You stay entangled with them for an amount of time you can’t really grasp, coming down together. The room slips into silence. The only sound you hear is the symphony of heavy, uneven breaths. You look around at each other, the reality of what you’ve just done setting in. No one regrets it, you’d all be up for it again if one of you had it in you to ask, but it’s hard to know what to say.
You love each other more than anything. What you share is so special that you’ve all done everything to keep from fucking it up. To think that this might be what does. That the next thing to come out of your mouth could destroy it all. It’s terrifying.
Yunho clears his throat, stretching your legs for you so you don’t cramp up. “Can I get you anything? A snack?” You poke your bottom lip out, contemplating your snack options, “Uh, nah. I’m okay.” Noticing your throat sounds a little dry, Mingi grabs a bottle of water from the fridge—the very one you had your hand on earlier—and brings it to you. He twists the cap off and raises it to your lips, “You need to hydrate. I’m not asking.”
“Ooh, when’d you get so bossy?” you ask, taking a sip of water, “I like it.” Mingi takes a sip for himself before passing it to Yunho who chugs down the rest. “Shower?” Yunho says, swishing some water around in his cheeks. To you and Mingi it sounds like “swishwer”. Mingi squints his eyes at him, “Swishwer?” “I think he means ‘shower’” you whisper, trying to channel enough energy to sit yourself up. Yunho nods, swallowing the last few drops. “Yes! That! Shower. I’ll go run the water and you…” He points to Mingi and then to you, “Grab her and be careful. She’s expensive.”
Yunho walks off to the bathroom, leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen. You finally manage to sit up and swing around to face Mingi. He puts his arms around you, kissing the bridge of your nose, “Don’t worry about holding on but just…don’t scream.”
“Don’t scream? Wh—”
Mingi throws you over his shoulder and you do in fact scream. “What are you doing to my girlfriend?” Yunho shouts from the bathroom, flipping the shower on. Mingi carries you down the hall, your feet kicking as you giggle. “She’s fiiiine” he sighs, rolling his eyes, “It’s not like I’m gonna drop her.” Stepping into the bathroom Mingi pretends to trip for the fun of it.
“Put me down you psycho!” you whine, your life flashing before your eyes.
Mingi pouts, nuzzling his cheek up to your side, “I wasn’t really gonna drop you. So mean.” He lowers you down, letting you hold onto his arm while you gain your footing. You go to take your shirt off, it’s barely on, but the room still feels like it’s spinning.
“I got it, baby. Come here.” Yunho pulls you over to him and helps you out of your shirt. In return you help him out of his pants, tossing them off to the side. Yunho hops into the shower and you’re back at Mingi’s side, pushing his shirt up over his head. You never break eye contact once, committing every detail of each other’s naked bodies to memory.
You lead him into the shower and find yourself happily positioned between the two of them beneath the warm running water. Yunho cuddles you from the front and Mingi holds you from behind. The three of you fit together perfectly, like you were always meant to be like this.
Eventually you’ll have to say something. You’ll have to have an honest conversation about where things go from here. But for tonight you’ll stay in this moment together, letting your hearts revel in feelings your lips may never speak of again.
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tacticalprincess · 1 day
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Could you write something about König and reader doing the uhhh full Nelson? Idk I just really want to be manhandled by him. Thank you!!
any position that lets könig bend and stretch and maneuver you around like a doll is his favorite position. his creativity in the bedroom comes from years spent taking out his opponents in various different ways with just his hands. it makes him achingly hard to watch you mold around in his hands like dough, the way you shape to his will like you were made to do so. this isn’t planned, either. it starts with you riding him to exhaustion in reverse cowgirl, working your creamy cunt up and down his shaft for a good five bounces before you’re all worn out, resorting to pitiful, needy grinds of your hips.
“giving up already? don’t tell me that’s all you got, häschen...”
you accept defeat easily, only whining pitifully in response, which earns a mean chuckle out of the man behind you. a large hand reaches up to your jaw, forcing you back onto his sturdy chest while he captures your lips in a bruising kiss for your efforts. könig’s feet are planted on the bed, legs bent at the knee. he hitches your legs up to your ears, large triceps hooked under your knees, your body weightless as he bounces you up and down his angry shaft like you’re a fleshlight. he’s deeper than you’ve ever felt him, reaching untouched spots in you that have you seeing stars, sure he’s gonna break your pussy.
his hands push your head down so you can see the way he’s splitting you open, your walls fluttering and clenching around the thick girth of him. his tip is knocking all the thoughts out of your brain through your sensitive cervix, and you let yourself go slack and dumb in his strong hold, allowing him to use your body like a fucktoy. drool trickles out of your slack jaw, completely out of it, where his breathing has barely started to gain weight. so small and fragile in his hands, he could break you so easily like this, and he knows it. the power trip you give him is enough to make him shoot his thick load deep inside your womb, but before that he’ll reach down and slap your exposed, sensitive clit a few times, making you cream and convulse all over him. milking his cum straight out of his cock with how tight you squeeze him.
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sophsbookstore · 2 days
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Chicken Shop Date
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Lando Norris x reader 。・:*˚:✧。
Masterlist can be found in navigation!
Word Count: 2,348
Y/N walks into the chicken shop where they're filming the newest episode of her and her best friends youtube show Chicken Shop Date. Y/N and her best friend Amelia have been running the channel for a few years now, both girls switching off taking turns dating different celebrities.
Today Lando Norris was to be on the channel, and Y/N was ecstatic. Y/N has always been a big fan of formula one, with McLaren being one of, if not her favorite team. The original plan was for Amelia to be doing the date, the girls always switching off interviewing every other date, but Amelia knowing how much Y/N liked Lando, trades spots with the girl trying to set her friend up.
“Ok Y/N, Lando should be coming round the corner in a few.” One of the PA’s says, kneeling next to Y/N who was already sitting at the table, wiping her nervously sweaty hands against her legs.
“Y/N are you excited?” Amelia asks her best friend, Y/N side eyeing her friend before turning her attention back to the empty chair ahead of her.
“You suck, you know how much I like him, it was your turn to go on a date anyway!” Y/N whisper shouts. Amelia laughs, giving her bestie a quick hug before going to her spot behind the camera. The rest of the crew gets ready as Lando and his team enter the set.
Y/N watches anxiously as Lando shakes the crew member's hads, introducing himself to everyone before coming over and sitting across from her. “Hi, im Lando” the curly haired man says, holding his hand out across the table for Y/N to shake.
She does so, blush creeping onto her face. “Im Y/N, but i'm sure you already knew that” the girl stutters out. “That over there is my co-host Amelia, which I'm sure you already knew as well..” Y/N says kicking herself under the table in embarrassment. Lando looks at the girl, the smile never leaving his face.
“Ok you guys, we are starting in 3..2..” the director holds up one on his fingers, putting it down as everyone gets quet waiting for Y/N to start talking.
“Do you like chicken nuggets and chips?” what a way to start off the “date”, Y/N thinks to herself.
“I love chicken.” Lando says to the girl, smiling slightly as his head nods with satisfaction.
“That's good, I do as well.” Y/N reminds herself that this isn't a real date, she has to keep up the unbothered, bored character throughout the whole video. This is going to be harder than she thought. “Did you know that chicken makes you more beautiful” Y/N can feel her ears getting hotter.
“Does it really?” Lando asks, feeding into Y/N bit. Y/N agrees with the man, nodding her head.
Just then one of the PA’s comes out and hands Y/N a Capri-Sun, she places one in front of herself and Lando. Lando stares at the bagged drink in confusion, turning his head to the girl in front of him, back at the drink, then to her again. “How did you know I like Capri-Sun?”
“because…I’ve..Been, researching you..” the girl stutters out. Way to not sound like a creepy stalker, Y/N thinks to herself.
“I didn't even know I was doing this until yesterday.” Lando says, trying to steer the conversation away, stabbing his straw into the hole at the top of the bag. “I just looked at my calendar yesterday”
“Really? I've known about this for a while now, I've been manifesting it actually.” Y/N taking a bite of a fry, putting on a confident act for the camera.
“So manifesting actually works?” Lando asks, fixing the hod of his sweatshirt.
“It's been in my diary for about 5 years, you just didn't know about it until now.” Y/N shrugs, Lando leaning forward with laughter.
Y/N quickly looks over at Amelia, the girl silently laughing at her friend's awkwardness. Looking back at the monitor Amelia notices her friend secretly eyeing her down, turning to face Y/N she gives her a thumbs up, silently telling her that shes doing a good job and has nothing to worry about.
“Are you into, like, racing and motorsport?” Lando asks, trying to capture the girl's attention.
“Oh yes!” this perks Y/N up, being asked about something that she thoroughly enjoys. “I love Formula 1, my dad is a really big McLaren fan, so growing up we all had to be too.” Y/N finishes with a laugh.
“Are you still a McLaren fan?” Lando leans forward in his chair.
Wanting to play hard to get, Y/N leans slightly back in her chair. “I would say so, yes.”
“Who's your favorite McLaren driver.” he asks with a smirk.
“Oscar Piastri.” Y/N says, her face void of any emotion. Lando sighs, frowning slightly as he takes a bite of his food in defeat.
The pair could go on and on about racing, having both grown up watching the sport, as well as having the same favorite team, the two continue talking. “You know, I've never been to a race before.” 
This perks Landos interest. “I should take you sometime. Let me know which race you want to go to and I'll call a few people.” 
Y/N almost chokes on her drink. Did Lando Norris just invite her to her first ever race? Lando Norris. Her celebrity crush, and the person she has been manifesting to have on this show since it gained its popularity.
“I would really like that actually.” Y/N blushes, not being able to think of a cheeky comeback for his offer.
“You know what, bring your family too, you said they were McLaren fans aren't they?” Lando smiles at the girl, Y/N only being able to nod in agreement and thankfulness.
Lando takes a moment to eat some more of his food, Y/N looks over at Amelia, her best friend silently screaming and clapping for the girl. Y/N is stunned, her eyes wide, her mouth making an “o” like shape. Y/N shakes off the excitement, knowing that she still has to finish the “date” before she can get too excited.
“I hear it gets quite hot in there.” Y/N says catching Landos attention.
“Oh yeah, it gets very hot. Yeah, sweaty-”
“It would be even hotter if I was in there.” Y/N says bluntly. Lando opens his mouth to say a comeback, but when his eyes meet Y/N’s he shuts up, instead the blood rushes to his ears and he bites his lip. “Agreed?” Y/N instigates.
All Lando could do was nod and smile, his face getting redder and redder. Y/N takes her moment, taking a sip of her soda for confidence the girl leans forward, giving Lando her full eye contact as the interview carries on.
“Are you a romantic person?” the girl inquires. 
Lando takes a bite of his fry, looking at Y/N as a smile creeps onto his face, he looks down at his meal. “When I need to be.” he looks back up at the girl, still smiling.
“Good to know.” Y/N keeps eye contact with Lando, taking a bite of her fry, the boy winking at her subtly, making her nearly melt off her chair.
The two continue to eat in silence, one of the PA’s signaling to Y/N that they're about halfway through with the interview. This saddens Y/N, she doesnt want it to end. What if this is the first and last time she’ll ever get to see Lando. No, he offered to take her and her family to a race. What if it was just a joke? No, that would be too mean to be a joke.
“What's your ultimate goal?” Lando pulls the girl from her thoughts. “Apart from like this” Lando says motioning to the cameras and food in front of them.
“To fall in love I guess.” Y/N shrugs.
“That's cute.” Lando smiles at the girl. If she wasn't sitting down she would have passed out in the moment. 
Y/N analizes is face, taking in how cute he is before mustering up the confidence to continue the interview. “What's your type?” the girl asks.
“I'm open.” he shrugged nonchalantly.
“What do you specifically look for in a girl then?” Y/N questions the boy in front of her, desperately wanting to know.
“Just someone who's funny, has Y/E/C, beautiful, has Y/H/C, you know?” Lando continues to wait, trying his absolute best to act nonchalant. “How about you?”
“Oh you know, racer, has brown curly hair, brown eyes, a brown hoodie on right now. Nothing much to it really.” Y/N states, matching the energy as Lando looks down at his brown sweatshirt, looking back at the girl and smiling.
“Good to know.”
“Are you a big spoon or a little spoon?” Y/N doesn't waste any time before jumping into the next question.
“I'm big.” Lando responds. 
“That's perfect, I've been looking for a big spoon.” Y/N casually says.
“I've never been a little spoon before.” Lando laughs at the shock on Y/N’s face, the beautiful girl in front of him making him clarify that he's never been a little spoon before. “We could try,” Lando quickly says to Y/N, both taking a moment to imagine such a thing before turning their attention back to one another.
“Do you snore?” Y/N questions the driver in front of her.
“Yes.” he replies bluntly, leaning his body slightly more forward.
“No, really? That's a deal breaker for me.” Y/N puts on a fake sad face. She looks at the driver in front her, his face dropping ever so slightly, but enough for it to be noticeable. “It's ok, we can work around it” Lando nodded in agreement with the girl, his face perking up a bit more.
“How far away do you live?” Y/N asks, not caring about how creepy the question can sound. 
Lando laughs, looking down at his food before looking back up at Y/N “I love in Monaco.”
“Shoot.” Y/N sighs, finally breaking eye contact with the beautiful British man. “I don't know if I can do long distance.” 
Landos face falls, his smile faltering to a frown. “Well that's no good is it?” the two fall back slightly in their seats. 
“Am I going to have to move out to Monaco? Or will you stay in England full time?” Y/N asks, forgetting this is just a playful interview, actually thinking about her hypothetical future with Lando.
“Hmmm.” the driver ponders. “Whatever you want I'm good with.” he smiles.
Y/N laughs, playing along she obviously looks past the camera toward her friend Amelia. “I think we might have to move chicken shop to Monaco.” Both girls laugh, Lando blushing at the idea of Y/N moving her whole life to stay with him in a different country. 
The PA looks at the pair, walking around the camera and sneakily handing Y/N a custom made chicken shop trophy. Y/N thanks the PA before holding the trophy up and looking back at Lando. “You may not come first in anything yet, but you are the first F1 driver to go on a date with me.” Y/N holds out the trophy for Lando to take, he “awws” in response.
Lando holds the trophy in his hands, looking down then looking back up at Y/N “hopefully i'm the last F1 driver you have on. I would say our date was pretty successful.” he smiles.
Y/N doesn't hide her blush this time, looking down and laughing slightly before refocusing back at lando. “Maybe, maybe not. We’re still waiting to hear back from Oscar.” 
The director yells cut. The rest of the crew and various team members walk about the shop finishing their own tasks leaving Lando and Y/N to their own. The pair get up from their chairs at the same time, now standing in front of one another.
“Thank you for this again.” Lando says, motioning to the trophy in his hands. “I really had fun today.”
“Me too, thanks for coming, even if you didn't know until yesterday.” the two laugh, a comfortable silence falling between them.
“Hey umm, maybe we could do this again, no cameras or anything. I'm in England for another week or so if you're free.” Y/N is taken aback, did Lando Norris just ask her on a real date.
“I- umm, yeah I would really like that. I'll give you my number so we can plan it.” 
“Perfect!” Lando smiles, pulling his phone out of his back pocket, unlocking it, then handing it to Y/N. Y/N quickly types in her phone number, setting her contact name, and taking a picture of herself for the contact photo before handing the phone back to Lando.
“Well then i'll see you soon Lando” Y/N says, looking up at Lando, taking a small step closer to him.
“I'll see you soon Y/N” he holds his arms out, giving the girl a brief yet firm hug, before getting called away by one of his team members.
Y/N stands in shock. Recapping everything that had just happened since the director started filming. Amelia runs up to her friend, nearly tackling the girl with excitement. “What happened, what did he say?” Amelia interrogates Y/N, having witnessed their interaction from afar.
“I just got a real date with Lando Norris.” Y/N says, pulling out her phone to see a text from Lando with an address and time. It's official, her manifestation had worked and she was now going on a real date with the driver she's had a crush on since he signed with her favorite team. Lando Norris.
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afterglowsainz · 2 days
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fresh out the slammer | max verstappen
summary: after you broke up with your boyfriend, you join your friends for a night out in monaco and decide it's a good idea to invite max
warnings: fluff, mentions of breakups, drinking
word count: 1.8k
a/n: giggling and kicking my feet at the thought of a situationship with max
the tortured athletes department series
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it’s been one month since you and your ex-boyfriend of one year broke up. you couldn’t say you were heartbroken because you really weren’t, like most men do at some points in their lives, he was disappointing you long before you broke up with him, so in a way, you mourn your relationship while you were still in it. now you just felt a bit lonelier than before, but you had definitely moved on.
on a saturday night, you had a few friends over to your monaco apartment for dinner and a very well deserved gossip session. you told them all about your breakup with your most recent boyfriend and how you were feeling almost too good.
“guys, what if we go out?” one of your best friends suggests. “a friend of mine is having a party at this club downtown and is supposed to be this very exclusive thing.” you thought about it for a few seconds after agreeing. it has been a while since you went out with your friends, especially in monaco where everything can happen. you got ready in less than ten minutes since you already were put together and joined your friends in the car on your way to the club. 
during the quick ride you check your instagram and saw that your friend max posted a story. you and max have had this weird relationship for years, were you’re both really close friends who’ve also liked each other forever, but none of you had actually made a move on each other (except for that one time, but you’ve never talked about it). you clicked on his profile picture and the story popped up, a picture of him and his friends playing fifa on his couch. you smiled and liked the photo, putting your phone away.
once you got to the club your friend led you all to the entrance and when she gave her name to the bouncer they let you all in. the place was completely packed, but she took you all to a place on the top that was a bit less full and looked more like that exclusive event your friend was talking about. soon enough, alcohol was running through your system and your body was moving along with the blasting music at the club when a thought almost made you stop on your tracks. you looked for your best friend all over the place and ran over to her when you saw her near the bar.
“hey.” you call out loudly over the music.
“hey.” she smiled at you. “having fun?” she asks and you nod.
“can i tell you this idea i just had?” she takes a sip from her drink and nods. “would it be a good idea if i invited max?” her eyes widen with surprise and gives you a knowing smile.
“max like max verstappen?” she asks. “like your max?” you nod again, this time more euphorically.
“yes, my max.” you took a sip of your drink and cleared your throat. “he’s in monaco, so why not? the worst that can happen is he says no.” you shrug, like the idea of him not wanting to see you didn’t kill you a bit inside.
“go for it!” she exclaims. “absolutely, yes, invite him over.”
you smiled and headed over to the balcony, relieved to feel the cold air of the monaco night hit your skin, cooling you down. you took out your phone and hover over max’s contact for a moment, wondering if you should text or call first. you decided to call since that would be much more immediate. you listen to the phone ringing for a few moments and when you thought it would send you to voicemail, you heard max’s familiar voice.
“hello.” he answers.
“heyyy.” you greet him with a smile that he couldn’t see.
“y/n.” he calls your name with happiness. “how are you?”
“i’m good, how are you?” you ask. “what are you up to?”
“oh, i’m good, yeah.” he says. “just hanging out with some friends. you?”
“i’m in monaco.” you say looking at the stars. “actually, i’m at this club, i was wondering if you wanted to come? you can bring your friends, my friends are here too.”
you waited for him to answer so long you thought the line had dropped.
“what club are you in?” you gave him the name and heard some loud voices in the background. “okay, we’ll be there in twenty.”
you smiled at the sky and bit your lip.
“okay.” you answered and finished the call.
when you got back inside you met your friends again and let them know that max was coming with his friends. twenty minutes later, you were still dancing in the middle of the place when someone tapped your shoulder with tenderness. when you turned around you saw those blue eyes that you loved staring back at you.
“hello, you.” you smiled at him and he returned it.
“long time no see.” he said, giving you a small kiss on the cheek. you felt yourself flustered and were grateful that the place was mostly dark with a few colored lights.
“you should’ve told me when you got here, i would’ve gone outside to get you.” you frowned, ignoring the blush on your face.
“i wanted it to be a surprise.” he defends himself. 
“it can’t be a surprise if i invited you.” you fought back and he placed his arm around your shoulders.
“you know what i mean.” he clicked his tongue, teasing you.
you spent the next hour dancing, drinking and talking with max. it was like the world around you had disappeared and it was only the two of you left in that club. when you took a quick break from dancing he got close to you and whispered in your ear.
“do you want to go outside?” he asks. you felt yourself blush again but nodded.
he was about to guide you to the balcony but you redirected him to the exit of the club. you stopped briefly to let your friend know that you were leaving with max for a moment so she wouldn’t worry and she just winked at you. you took his hand so you wouldn’t lose him while walking through all the people at the club and once you were outside you dropped his hand, even though you didn’t really wanted to, but the last thing you wanted was to make it uncomfortable for him.
“you wanna take a walk?” he asks while taking his jacket and putting it around your shoulders.
you nod and smile at him, grateful for his jacket. you both start walking along the streets, talking about nothing in particular until he makes the question you knew he wanted to ask all night.
“how’s it going with your boyfriend?” he doesn’t look at you while asking, no matter how much you wanted him to do so.
“we broke up.” you answer dryly.
“oh.” he finally looks at your face for any hint of sadness, but there is none. you’re not sad about it.
“how’s it going with your girlfriend?” you ask now, remembering the gorgeous redhead he was dating a few months ago.
it was on one of those few occasions both of you were in monaco at the same time. you were leaving from café de paris with your best friend and you crossed him at the entrance, next to him was one of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever seen, holding his hand. you remembered she introduced herself as his girlfriend and your heart skipped a beat at the word, even though you had no right to feel anything like that since you had a boyfriend yourself. you said your goodbyes and he did too and that was the last time you saw him.
“what was her name again?” you asked. “i can’t remember.”
“we broke up.” max ignored your last question, answering the first one you asked instead.
“oh.” you frowned, sad for him for whatever reason. maybe it was the alcohol in you bringing out all the emotions. “what happened?”
“it just didn’t work out.” he answers simply, giving you a reassuring smile.
“when did you break up?” you knew you were a bit out of line meddling into his relationship. especially when he didn’t ask you these types of questions about your own breakup, but you couldn’t help it.
“a few months ago.” he said, completely unfazed by your curiosity. “actually, it was the day you met her.”
“at the café de paris?” you questioned with surprise and he nodded. “why would you break up with your girlfriend there? it’s such a lovely place.”
he wanted to laugh at your remark, but bit his lip instead.
“i saw you.” he whispered and you felt like all the air was leaving your lungs.
“you broke up with your girlfriend because you saw me?” you ask incredulously and he nods again. “why would you do that?”
“why do you think, y/n?”
he holds your eyes for a few seconds until you turn your head and continue walking. you didn’t answer him and he didn’t say anything else, his words hanging in the air while you got wrapped into a comfortable silence. you were trying to process his train of thought while also processing yours. could his words have such an impact on you? did he feel about you the same way you’ve always felt about him? would he want to try something with you? with each question you asked in your head, you felt yourself leaning more and more into max until the back of your hands brushed each other while walking. he felt so familiar in so many ways.
before you could realize it, you were both outside of your apartment building. did you really walk this much?
“well.” he said, breaking the silence. “i guess this is where i leave you.” he pointed with his chin at the building.
you looked at him for a few seconds, your mind racing ten thousand miles per hour.
“you could stay.” you whisper.
max looked at you, a sparkle in his eyes you knew too well.
“you’re drunk.” he murmured, just like you had. you shook your head and got closer to him, touching the collar of his shirt gently.
“just as much as you.” you were so close you could see every speck of color in his eyes. “i think the walk here sober me up, anyway.” you joke, taking your eyes off of him, fearing that looking at him a second longer would make you do something unexpected.
“are you sure about this?” he took your face between his hands, forcing you to look at him. the beautiful blue of his eyes was now much darker and you fell a little bit more in love just by looking at them.
“of course i’m sure.” your voice low, only for him to hear. “i’ve always been.”
his eyes went from your eyes to your lips, and then back into your eyes.
“come inside.” you ask.
he smiles at you like he just won a championship, taking your hand and pulling you into the building.
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simpjaes · 22 hours
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heeseung taking out all his anger during sex drabble pls ❤️
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MDNI.
this was originally written for jeno on my other blog but it fits so well [i rewrote it/reworded a lot of things. it's much better now lol] wc: 2.3k
tags: Heeseung hate fucks reader when he has a bad day, unprepped penetration, reader basically loses her ability to feel anything other than his cock lmao (cock drunk)
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It doesn't always hurt when Heeseung has his hands on you. Really, most of the time it’s blissful. There were those nights though, when he would be rough, careless, and borderline worrisome with you. Oftentimes humiliating you in the way you can barely even mutter his name, weak and quivering under him. 
It doesn’t happen happen, but when it does, you know how much you always end up…kind of loving it.
Really, even if in the moment you’re in pain, sometimes even scared, you had to tell him after the fact to keep doing it. That it’s okay. That you fucking love it. 
Naturally, tonight is another one of those nights. 
Heeseung, first, had you against the counter with his strong arms pressing you back until your head hit the cabinets. You were, essentially, pinned there between his frustrated eyes and the counter top with him slotting himself between your legs. Not a single word is said to you, not a single explanation, and arguably, you know better than to ask. 
You already know. He’s had a bad day.
So, you just let him. Feeling his lips go from a grimace to biting and nipping against your skin. You can only imagine how bad his day went for him to be so silent, still, you let him do as he pleases because you don’t exactly want to make it worse for him. If anything, you’re fine with being an outlet. You get plenty out of this too, after all.
And there is a part of him that knows he’s doing this with you rather than at you, based on your previous pleads to be his outlet. He’s forever in love with the fact that you let him be this rough, with his bruising grip and harsh teeth. There’s nothing more in this world he could need to unwind aside from you and you alone. Solely because you let him.
When he drags you to the bedroom without a word, you simply let him. Internally bubbling with all sort of emotions. Fear, excitement, concern, arousal. He appears to be more angry tonight though, solely because his fingers gripping your wrist hurts much more than usual. You can feel your skin under them, pulling and stretching under his grip as he takes you to where he wants you. 
And yet again, like on many nights like these, he doesn’t offer a single bit of foreplay. He does little more than getting his cock out with that same frustrated face, flicking his head down as if he has an expectation of you. That, he does. You know it very well, and you do as you’re directed. Rolling your pajamas down your leg and easily spreading your legs and pussy for him. 
Unprepped, still mostly dry. You know it’s going to hurt, and he knows it’s going to hurt too. The understanding is mutual but the act is much needed on more ends than just Heeseung’s. 
The drag of his immediate, forced, plunge is uncomfortable for both of you, but something about the feeling of getting you wet while he’s inside of you is something that grounds Heeseung beyond belief. The feeling pulls him out of his red thoughts and turns them a shade darker. 
It’s always you who can distract him. 
And, of course, he only goes faster and harder at that point, chasing the moment for when you’ll slick up for him nice and wet. Gripping onto your body in such a harsh way that all you can do for him is whimper and cry. Your eyes always force the tears, especially when he hasn’t kissed you yet. But even if he had kissed you, you’d be unable to kiss him back at this point. Not until the discomfort subsides anyway.
Thankfully, and like always, it doesn’t take long for your body to want it. What was once the sound of dry and slapping skin turns to that of wet, squelching sounds as you drip out and around him. The drag hurts no more, and by this point you need him to go harder, faster, fucking deeper. After all, if he’s going to hate-fuck you when you’re not even the point of his anger, if he’s not even going to kiss you, he better find a way to make it hurt more. 
Heeseung does come back to himself when he feels the slide though, loving that he can come home from his awful day and have you present yourself in such a way for him. He loves you more than anything, for so many fucking reasons that don’t include that, but still. This is what you do for him, and it brings his softness back tenfold as he reaches out for your face, eyes softening for you in concern. 
Fuck, he swears he learns something new about you every day too. After all the years the two of you have been together, he’s shocked when you turn your face away from him. He’s a bit defeated at the act, partially wondering if he’s really pushed it too far in terms of using you. It’s not often he doesn’t at least give you some praise as he does this, but really, he was so, so upset. His brain just….he needed this before saying anything. 
And so, at that motion of you turning your face away from him and his softer hands, he only slams his hips harder. He tips himself back a bit now, using one hand to tug at your clit as if it’s a form of retaliation from your rejection.
It would be retaliation anyway, but Heeseung knows well enough how much you love to hurt. You love when he tugs and pinches against your pretty, swollen clit. The sharp pains always make you cry in a way that fucks your brain up. As if you don’t know whether to plead for him to stop or to ask for more. 
Still, he’s frustrated that you won’t let him love on you now that he’s grounded himself a bit. His whole fucking day has been a disaster, and now you’re pulling away? Not making eye contact? Not letting him kiss you?
“Baby, look at me.” He says, now nearly demanding that you do as he says. 
And, of course, you do. 
“You want it to hurt more?” He continues when you still shift your eyes away from him, but he’s a bit amused in the way you nod to him. So out of it for him that he feels almost silly for being upset at you in the first place. 
“Yeah?” He nods with a half chuckle, slowing his hips but now driving in with intent and harsh plunges. “Just like that?” 
You yelp as you urge him with a nod, loving the sear and feeling of your boyfriend tearing you open. And while you know he’s being rough, he’s not quite giving you his all now that he’s softened up.
You want him to give it his ass by this point now, if the sound of your pussy is anything to go by. You want him to fucking hurt you, to the point you can’t moan, to the point you can’t breathe. 
“More,” You manage to get out for him in another yelped whimper. “You’re being soft.”
“Yeah?” He asks for confirmation with his hand reaching for you cheek again, burying his leaking cock in so deep, so painfully deep. “Look at me.”
You do, showing him your blown out pupils and mess of hair on top of you head. You nod frantically, wanting him to push further than he ever has. Wondering if he’ll ever surpass his own limit for you. 
It goes like this for a while longer than usual. More pain, more pleasure, and your heart rate higher than you thought possible. 
He’s using you so well and you couldn’t be more proud to be this for him. An outlet, his girlfriend, his sex doll. And fuck, he bites, he bruises, he drags his hips so painfully into you that you feel like you genuinely could be split in half at any moment if he truly wanted to. 
So full, you can feel it so deeply inside of you that all you can do is cry.
You lose yourself to that feeling, basking in the sensation of your walls clenching every inch of him and moaning out with each second that passes. To the point your throat is sore and your eyes are swollen from the tears. 
He pulls against your hair now, holding his hips in place and burying himself just as deep as before inside of you. Instantly, you see tunnel vision now. Like you could burst, both physically and emotionally, all for him. 
Him, him, him. 
And he only holds himself like that to the point that you can feel your cervix bruise. He only pushes harder now, trying to inch in more of his cock despite having no more to give. He lifts your leg over his shoulder just to get a different angle at the failure, only to find a way to make you feel him deeper than you thought was possible. 
God, it hurts so good and he loves it. Your pained face paired with the image of your pussy taking the entirety of him. You’re everything to him. 
And now? His grunts are that of focus rather than pleasure. He wants to ruin you, he is trying to ruin you to the fucking core just to see if you’ll unravel in a new sort of way. 
It’s the fact that he’s talking to you through it too. You can’t make out a single word though, tunnel vision is tunnel hearing, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his cock bruising the deepest part of you. Being torn apart by the man you love is…something you’ll never forget. 
And when you do manage to catch a smirk on his face before his hips start sliding back and forth again, you realize he loves this as much as you do. Of course he does, who wouldn’t love a girl willing to let her man surpass his own limits? 
Out of respect, no less. 
“Are you with me?” His voice echoes through your eyes, and while he’s fully aware that you’re absolutely fucking gone with the way he’s fucking you right now, he takes your distant nod as confirmation. 
Despite how far aware he seems in your head, you know that every sensation your body is feeling right now is because of him. You can’t help the quivering. The uncontrollable shaking.
It feels so good, to the point you are nearly numb to everything else around you. The swollen feeling of your body being abused is too, too fucking good. You can’t even comprehend that he’s kissing against your slack mouth, but you do your best to kiss him back. 
Goddamn does he love the way you drool all over yourself and him. Good. Fucking good girl. 
“Try again,” He chuckles against your tongue, waiting, just to see if you can manage to kiss him properly. Though he suspects you’re completely lost in your head right now. 
After all, he’s giving you exactly what you asked for. 
And all you can do in return is blink up at him with a dazed smile. Your body is moving up with each of his thrusts just to make it that much more painful, and his lips continue to lay against yours. He’s truly waiting for you to kiss him back like you have the ability to do it. Like you can truly think of anything else rather than what he’s doing between your legs. 
Hah. 
“You’re so gone, baby.” He smiles in a breath at your failure to do anything more than leave your mouth open for him. He’s fucking floored by how much you love this, and how you truly embrace the inability to think at this moment. “You’re loving this, hm?”
You can’t even not for him this time, feeling pangs of pain and pleasure shoot through your body with each sharp thrust. 
“Try again, pretty girl.” He encourages you when he licks against your bottom lip again, gripping your hair with his other hand and craning your neck back. 
”You can do it, come on.” He adds, biting against your neck and licking the mark. 
You once again, can’t even try, because he accentuates each word with a drag of his pulsing cock and a sharp pressure against your clit with his abdomen. So, you stop trying, falling into the depths of the sensations and allowing yourself to lose your grasp on reality entirely. 
Fucking hell, he loves it. The way you come undone, the way your entire body goes clack before shaking uncontrollably with a wet spurt of your pussy trying to push him out. He can feel you clench around him, your body acting on instinct to push, push, push, the pleasure out and all over him. 
He has to hold back his own impressed moan at the way he stays buried into you as you squirt around him with that pretty, pained look on your face. 
“Fuck, that feels good, doesn’t it?” He grunts out, slowing his pace to feel you clench around him fully, enough to where he needs to brace himself to pull out slightly just to shove his cock right back into that quivering mess. “So out of it too, god–” He moans now, leaning back just to look down fully. Noting how you’ve left a mess all over him. 
And you still continue to quiver, your pussy still clenches and grips him. All the way until you’re slack, still clenching, and he’s now pumping his cum into you with such a relieved moan that it almost brings you back to reality. 
By the time he’s done shaking on top of you, out of breath, and pulling out, your ears are ringing save for his soft voice. 
“Baby?” You hear him say as he dips down beside your head. “I got you.” 
You manage to nod to him and smile in a drunken kind of daze as he lifts you from the bed for the proper clean up from a boyfriend who very much loves you. 
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gyeomsweetgyeom · 2 days
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[8:08 am]
reference pic!
(cw: a child)
CEO!Jaemin's phone was ringing like crazy in his pocket, and yet as hard as he tried not to let it bother him, it was bothering him. He had let his assistant know he would be in late and to let everyone that needed to know know, so why was he getting calls?
His daughter's small hand was held in his own while she skipped and ran her fingers through the bushes and plants against along the sidewalk while she sang to herself. She was so cute.
Jaemin even had to admit he was proud of how put-together she looked this morning. Her hair looked neat, which was a struggle and a half since she was very picky since you always "did it better." Since the last time he did her hair, he'd made you be his model so he could learn some simple hairstyles for when you weren't able to do her hair. It was the best ponytail he'd ever done and he made sure to take tons of pictures to show you later.
This morning you'd left earlier than usual to handle some business which meant it was up to Jaemin to get his daughter ready and to school. They'd left on time and parked a ways away so they could walk and look at the flowers. Jaemin could never say no to his daughter- it was a real problem.
He sighed as he begrudgingly pulled his phone from his pocket, quickly tightening his hold on his daughter’a hand and adjusting the pink hello kitty backpack on his shoulder. “Hello?” He asked bluntly into the phone.
“Mr. Na, I’m sorry. I know you’re coming in late, but one of the board members came in early and is requesting a meeting. I’ve already told him you won’t be in right away but I can hear him leaving you messages. Maybe, don’t listen to them with your daughter around…” his assistant explained nervously.
Jaemin sighed, sending his daughter a bright smile when her concerned face turned to look up at him, “just let him know I’ll be there in 20. While you’re at it, please contact the rest of the board members and remind them about basic etiquette. Never mind, I’ll do that myself. I’ll be there in 20. Thanks for the heads up.”
He hangs up the phone and steps through the gates of his daughter’s school. He walks her to the door where other students and parents are looking at him with wonder. He can hear the mothers whispering about how handsome he looks and the dads mumbling about his he wasn’t all that. He laughed it off and crouched down to his daughter’s height.
He pulled the fluffy backpack off his shoulder and helped his daughter put it on. A backpack that was just over half her size, but she begged and begged, so of course Jaemin got it for her. He swore he saw some of the teachers in the hall fan themselves at that. He was going to have a blast telling you all about the fawning women later.
“Ok, are you going to be good today?” He asked his daughter in a soft voice.
She nodded dutifully, her pony tail bouncing up and down. He smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “good girl. I’ll see you later. Love you, baby girl.”
“I love you mostest!” His daughter smiles, pressing a wet kiss to his cheek before she darts off into the hallway.
Jaemin watches her with a bittersweet feeling. She was growing up too fast, just a few months ago she would cling to your legs and beg you not to leave her. Now, she was running off without even looking back.
Or so he thought, she got to her class and turned to Jaemin with a smile that resembled his own, and waved. Good, now he could get through the day.
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sahkuna · 2 days
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SHOW ME HOW
SEPERATE ! sukuna + gojo showing you the other ways they like to get you off— other than their dick. a/n can u tell that I was listening to/inspired by show me how by men i trust…
content warnings: 18+ minors dni, sukuna x afab! reader, gojo x fem!/afab! reader, fingering (sukuna), cunnilingus (gojo), ooshy gushy wet ass pussy (from you, ooo), gojo uses the term "good girl" once and only once!
divider by cafekitsune
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SUKUNA RYOMEN
You want to crawl and hide.
The light behind your bedroom’s closed curtains begins to fade and grow dimmer, effectively casting your room into a dark and shadowy state setting for a serene and comforting scene. However, right now you felt anything but calm.
You swallow down another wave of embarrassment that confronts you once you hear the wet squelching coming from between your legs. Despite how you fidget and make a feeble attempt to squirm off the bed, Sukuna keeps your back firmly pressed against his broad chest. 
“Listen,” Sukuna murmurs, slowing down the pace of his fingers inside of you to bring emphasis to the noises you were making. His fingers prod at your walls, curling up against that one spot that makes your thighs squeeze in on themselves. “You hear that?”
Yes. Of course, you can fucking hear it. The room was so quiet that you could hear your next-door neighbour’s conversation if you reeeally strained your ears.
The unmistakable sounds of your arousal and pussy being played with by the hand of another were all too much and all too loud. It was clear you were enjoying this, and you found yourself growing more and more shy the longer Sukuna dragged out stimulating your body.
Fervently shaking your head, you bite back a wanton moan that threatens to pour out once you open your mouth. Instead, you choose to exhale a bratty, “No.”
Sukuna doesn’t bite though. He brushes past your stubborn nature to toy with you some more. You feel the heel of his palm press down meanly against your clit, which evokes a small whimper out from you. “You like lying, huh?” 
Before he pulls his hand away, his middle and ring fingers make a small scooping motion and gather all the slick accumulated between your thighs. Without hesitation Sukuna brings it to eye level, showing off the mess you made on his hand. 
“Look at that...” His thick, long fingers spread apart, only connected by the wet glistening string of your arousal. “Looks pretty wet to me.”
You press your eyes shut and twist your face away from Sukuna’s taunting hand. If you could, you’d bury yourself into the material of his sweater right fucking now.  “Quit talking like that!” you whine, knocking his hand away from your face. “Just… get on with it already!”
For a second, Sukuna doesn’t move and you’re worried you may have pissed him off a little. The only thing to go off of to determine his mood is the slow rise and fall of his chest. 
Then, you feel something. You’re relieved to find that his hand has slid its way back down to your inner thigh. It squeezes once, then twice. “You asked me to show you, right?”
More like begged. You’ve never orgasmed from just your fingers before, often growing too frustrated to keep up the slow build-up towards your climax and immediately jumping to something more convenient and alleviating to get the job done.
You give him a sheepish nod. Your own eyes skate down to where his hand rests, teasing your most sensitive areas.
“So, let me show you.” It doesn’t take him long for Sukuna’s fingers to go back to slipping up and down your folds, pressing gently at the entrance of your cunt before he dips inside once again. 
A warm haze clouds your thoughts, so much so that you don’t realize that the same squelching sounds that you shied away from tripled in volume as Sukuna began to finger you with more fervour. “You just sit there and stay quiet.”
“Ah!” You cry out, when his other hand slips down, the pad of his fingertips roll sensually against your clit. His ministrations prompt you to curl in on yourself and you suddenly become hyperaware of the rising, hot sensation of tension building right below your navel until it finally breaks. “Oh my— Fuuuck…” you heave.
Whatever you say or exclaim next gets lost in translation. With your eyes screwed shut, you orgasm hard against Sukuna. Your back pushes up against him, trying to escape his hands as he continues to overstimulate you. 
“Or don’t.”
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GOJO SATORU
“Stare too hard and I’ll kill you, Satoru.”
After the expression of your threat, striking blue eyes flick away from the lower half of your scantily dressed body and drag up to gaze at your flustered, scowling face. 
Your comment hits him like a feather would to a ton of bricks. It does nothing. “To die between your thighs would be a wonderful way to go.” He says, right before doing the very thing you asked him not to do.
Long, delicate fingers gently trace the lining of your lace panties. Careful not to put too much pressure, his fingertips skim the band of your underwear. “You’re too tense,” Gojo comments from beneath you, still eyeing your clothed cunt. “You’ve gotta relax or it won’t be enjoyable for you.”
Your brows furrow with confusion and you shift a bit on the plush bed, seeing if that’s what he meant. “I am relaxed. What do you mean?”
His eyes soften at this. Propping himself onto his elbows, Gojo rises from where he once lingered near the seat of your panties and positions himself so that you’re caged between his arms.
“You telling me you’re gonna ‘kill’ me if I stare at you too hard is not relaxed and you know it.”
Something warm and knowing bubbles in the pits of your stomach, being this close to him aware of what’s bound to happen next has got you in this heady trance. Exhaling softly, you shudder a quiet, “I know.”
White wisps of his hair tickle your cheeks when he presses a chaste kiss below your ear, grazing your jawline. With his lips still on your skin, Gojo asks, “You gonna let me look?
It’s a simple question, but it has you squeezing your legs trying to dull the wanting ache throbbing between your thighs. Your hands find purchase onto the soft white linen of his bedsheets and bunch them into your hand. You offer Gojo a steady nod.
“Yeah?” He inquires to which you nod again, watching with unwavering eyes as Gojo lowers himself back down to where he was between your legs. “Yeah… good girl.”
Holy.
Your breath is quick and heavy once Gojo closes his eyes and mouths at your clothed pussy in a slow manner, taking his time with you. You’re not even bothered by the fact that he hasn’t moved your underwear to the side… yet.
His fingers are back to fiddling and teasing around the lace. “Satoru…” You practically purr his name, prompting him to smile— one that you feel— against you.
Gojo gives you a few more seconds of his tortuous teasing before he withdraws his mouth from you to tug down the black lace covering your slit. Once he gets them off he tosses them unceremoniously behind him into a random corner of his room.
He rests his cheek against your left thigh and sighs. Glossy, pink lips split into a slow, lazy smile as he takes in all of you.  “Y’know, I’ll still take you up on your offer…” 
Your eyes can barely open, too blissed out and waiting for the moment you’d feel his pink tongue dart out to press into you to gauge what your boyfriend’s saying. “Hah?”
“Of dying here.” Gojo’s hand smooths down from your hips, fingers grazing your folds to spread you wide open for him. “So beautiful. So, so beautiful,” he continues. 
Your body temperature runs hotter when you clock in the fact that he’s talking to your pussy. You’re just about ready to reach your hand down and press your palm against his forehead to steer him away.
“Shut— Ah!” You cry out the moment Gojo’s mouthing at your cunt, tongue sloppily pushing past your folds with his nose nudging at your puffy, sensitive clit. Your back arches off the bed when his tongue brushes up a particularly tender spot inside you.
Throughout it all, the licking, the sucking, the fingering, Gojo’s large hand finds yours and grasps it. While he eats you out, his fingers thread between yours— it's an innocent action, really, but it has your heart leap into your throat. He grips you a little tighter and holds you a little closer with each and every high-pitched exclamation you let out.
When Gojo pestered you over and over about the things you haven’t tried in bed before, he was shocked— and albeit relieved— when you told him you’ve never been eaten out before. Let alone, orgasmed from it. He begged, convinced, and promised you that he’d show you how good it feels to have your breath stolen away through other means.
There’s a fluttering sensation that tremors throughout your body, most prominent where Gojo’s mouth is currently pressed. Pulling away, you peek down at him once more with glassy eyes. He looks perfectly debauched.
He buries a secretive smile into your thigh. “How many times do you think I could get you to do that?” He asks.
If anything, it was Satoru who’d be the one figuratively killing you tonight.
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catnipaddictt · 2 days
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Hi!, its my first time here in tmblr and I rlly love your works, Can i request a Anakin Skywalker x reader, where he's like straight up Gomez Addams To Her? (Like he's so lovesick for y/n?) ?, if you're not taking any req it's okay js ignore this!! , thank u!
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lovesick
anakin x gn!reader:
wc: 0.4k
tw: fluffy, slightly suggestive content?, head over heels anakin, reader is refereed to as princess
comment: hey anon! sorry this took so long to write but hopefully its kinda what you were thinking? my writers block still has an iron grip on me grr
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Anakin Skywalker was head over heels for you. And even that was an understatement. The boy practically followed you around like a lost puppy when he was off duty. Unfortunately for him this meant missions were his left favorite thing, especially if they were long and oh so far away from you. You were all he could think about, constantly on his mind. 
Sometimes it got so bad that his focus on missions would slip, resulting in stern words from Obi Wan, who was aware of your and Anakin's relationship, however he chose to ignore it as he knew how it felt to be young and in-love. Anakin would count down the days until he would be reunited with his love, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet when he got to visit you.
When he was with you he would bathe you in kisses treating you like the princess you were. Every mission he brought something small back for you. This could be a piece of jewelry, or a pretty rock he had found on a distant planet. You would never have to lift a finger when you were around him, he would make sure you were always comfortable and looked after. At night he would check and double check that you were warm enough or not overheating. He refused to let you catch a bad night's sleep. 
Pressing a kiss to the side of your neck Anakin mumbles against your warm skin “just missed you so much baby.” His curls tickle you as he shows you just how much he had been craving you while on his latest assignment. You close your eyes, basking in the comfort of the jedi, wishing he didn’t have to leave you again in the morning. As if he can sense your thoughts he speaks softly “let me take care of you, okay?” 
This boy is willing to sacrifice anything for you. When you two first got together, he made it very clear that he didn’t care about the jedi’s rules about attachments. He just wanted you, and only you. Although sneaking behind the backs of his fellow jedi is difficult, he will not give you up. Even if it risks losing his status and being ousted by the council.
Anakin was always patient and understanding with you, he would let you talk about your worries and doubts. He would offer advice and tell you how you were already perfect to him. This man is just so in love with you, and he will continue to love you until the end of time itself. 
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sweetiecakesss · 2 days
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Black Russian | Boothill (18+)
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Synopsis: What better way to pass the time on a slow business day than having sex in the bathroom with the universe's known criminal, Boothill.
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇Tags: Boothill, Saloon Owner! Reader, Boothill has a cock, Blowjob, Bathroom Sex, Boothill's synthesia beacon isn't broken in this fic, No P n V just P n M, Gunplay.
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇Note: Brainrot about Saloon Owner! Reader x Outlaw! Boothill and am creaming my pants---
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The business was slow and quiet as you stood behind the counter with a neutral expression on your face, looking around the people that was seated on their respective seats. Some were already drunk to boot while other were still booming with energy as they watched the television as they chug their beers.
"Hey boss," Turning your head to face where the voice came, you raised your brows. "Am gonna get going now, can't let my woman wait." Orion, you're employee let out. You gave him a nod and a smile.
"Tell the misses I said hi." You let out to which Orion nodded, tipping his hat before he left the saloon, leaving you and the other drunkards in your establishment.
Everything was silent, until you heard the familiar ding of the bell by the door. A man---No, A Robot man entering your saloon. White and black hair flowing behind him, his hat covering his features, and with each stem you can hear metal clanking. You kept your eyes on him as he then made his way to the counter, sitting in front of you as he then removed his cowboy hat. Placing it on top of the counter.
As soon as he removed his hat, your eyes squinted at him as you moved your gaze to your left. Eyeing the wanted poster with the man's picture, a smirk creeping its way to your features as you just looked at him.
"A glass of Black Russian for me, sweetcheeks." The man let out, you looked at him as you moved to grab a small alcohol glass, placing it on the counter infront of him as you started pouring and mixing the drink in front of him.
"You got nice taste." You complimented as he took the well mixed drink and taking a sip before he looked at you and chuckling.
"I like em' strong," He let out, pausing as he took another sip. "The name's Boothill. And you are?"
You looked at him with an amused smile as you cleaned the things you needed to make his drink.
"I don't think telling a wanted man my name is a safe move…" You let out, Boothill looked at you surprised and amused as he let out a raspy chuckle as he placed his glass down on the counter, placing his arms on top of it as he leaned forward, tilting his head to the left.
"Don't be like that, Sweetheart. I ain't gonna bite…" He let out as his eyes roamed your features, scanning you from head and downwards before looking back up to meet your gaze. "Anyways, you've got my name already so why donn'cha tell me yours. Unless you want me to call you sweetheart for the rest of my stay here."
You looked at him amused. "It's Y/N." You let out.
He whistled. "Beautiful name. Suits ya'." He let out as he went ahead to take a sip of his drink once more before finally chugging it down and finishing his drink.
"So. Why is a pretty lil' thing like you work in a saloon?" He asked, his attention on yours as he looked at you with his sharp gaze. You looked at him as you raised your brows.
"If calling me pretty and endearments is your way to get free drinks outta me, I'd rather you not. Shit doesn't work on me." You let out. "And I own this saloon." You added to which Boothill let out another low whistle.
"Strong and Independent, yer just my type…How about that?" He let out as he gave you a smirk.
"I ain't interested." You replied, quickly dismissing his further advancements on you to which he just chuckled in response.
“Oh, c’mon.. You’re not gonna give me a single chance?” He then look around, looking around the place as he then lowered his tone of voice. “C’mon, darlin’. I haven’t had a pretty woman on my arm in ages. Least.. least not one that wasn’t tryin’ to shoot me or put me behind bars.”
You looked at him as you then placed the cloth over your shoulders, leaning forward; You placed your arms on the counter as you then tilted your head to the side.
"If you're looking for a prostitute, I ain't interested." you let out with a smirk. "You're a charming fellow but I ain't an easy one to grab, try your luck in a stripper club instead" you added. A low grunt escaped Boothill's lips as he cocked his eyebrow at you.
"I wasn't lookin' to buy yer services." He retorted as he chuckled. "Not yet, anyways."
"I just told you, I ain't a stripper." You let out as you stood back and crossed your arms over your chest, your brows furrowing at him. Boothill let out a raspy laugh as he ran his cold metallic fingers on his hair while looking at you.
"A Strong, Independent, Funny, and Pretty girl? Hah. How are you even Single…" He let out as he gave you a charming smirk. You looked at him intently as you then grabbed a bottle of vodka, pouring it onto his empty glass.
"Men tell me I'm insane that's why." You replied as you then grabbed the glass with vodka, chugging the drink down with one swift move before placing it down on the counter. A lipstick stain evident on the glass.
Boothill looked at the glass, eyeing the lipstick stain before he then grabbed the glass, holding it from the bottom as he then gave the mark you left on his glass a small kiss while his eyes remained on you. Making sure your eyes never left him for just even a second.
You stared at him in amusement as you then looked around, the quiet saloon still oh so quiet. Looking back at him, you dropped the things you were holding.
"It's a slow day…" You let out in a hum. "Meet me in the bathroom after a few…" You let out with a smirk before walking away and out the counter, your footsteps growing faint as you entered the bathroom.
Boothill made sure to eye you as entered the bathroom, looking away he chuckled to himself as he then moved and grabbed his hat before looking around and following pursuit, entering the bathroom.
You stood there with your arms crossed over your chest, across from him with your back against the wall. Boothill then closed the door behind him before locking it as he approached you, his cold hands holding onto your waist as he pulled you close to him.
"Mind telling me why you invited me in the bathroom?" He let out, humming as he moved his free hand up your body before holding onto your chin and making you look at him. Your gaze was on him as you then grabbed his wrist, opening your mouth you then pushed his fingers inside your mouth, lightly bobbing your head as you make eye contact with him.
"Isn't this what you wanted?" You let out murmured as you then let go of his fingers, your small hands placed on his chest as you gently guided him back until his back was finally against the door.
Your touch was enough to make Boothill shiver, his hands letting go of your waist as he lets out a shaky breath, his eyes meeting yours as he then moved his hand and placing them behind your head, intertwining his fingers with your hair before he then pulled you in a for a kiss.
You let out a hum of satisfaction as your lips finally clashed with his, your hands that was once on his chest, moved up as you grabbed tightly onto his collar. Gripping onto his clothes tightly as you chased his lips, the kiss deepening and messy as you made sure to not let him go. Your free hand moving down until it was now on his waist, holding onto him.
Boothill gasped with delight over the way you both kissed. It was rough and intense, both bodies pressed onto each other as he then let out a groan, his hand that was holding onto your hair moved and gripped onto it tightly, eliciting a moan escaping your mouth, making Boothill have access to more of you as he used his tongue, wrestling with yours.
"Gods…you taste so fucking sweet…" He murmured in between the kiss as he continued to chase the high that the two of you were feeling. You then let out a chuckle in between the kiss.
"I'm addicting…I know…" You slurred a reply as you slowly walked back, letting Boothill pushed his body onto you as he then pushed you against the sink. His hand then let's go of your hair before he grabbed onto the back of your thighs, holding onto you before he lifted you up and placed you on top of the counter.
Cold metallic hands holding tightly onto your thighs as you wrapped your legs around Boothill, his hips thrusting forward to feel the warmth in between your legs. Your pussy throbbing as he proceeded to grind his growing bulge onto you.
As the kiss went on, Boothill was too distracted at the feeling of kissing you and the wetness that was gradually forming in between your legs that he didn't notice the lightness of the gun holster on his waist. Briefly pulling away, both you and Boothill looked at each other in a daze before you gave him a smirk as you raised your hand and pointed the gun muzzle under his chin, making him tilt his head up and to the side as he looked at you surprised and a smirk.
"YOu fucking minx…" He let out as he then raised both his hands in the air.
"Must say, for someone who only seems like to be ninety percent human…You're packing.." You let as your free hand moved to cup the aching bulge in his pants as you made sure to look at him.
Boothill let out a grunt as he jolted his hips forward, chasing your touch.
"I was lucky to have them saved my dick, to be honest…" He let out in between groans, his words getting caught in his throat as you continued to palm him through his pants. You let out a chukle.
"Now what? You gonna' shoot me, Doll?" He let out a question while he kept his gaze on you. You let out a hum.
"I was gonna shoot your brains out but since this little fellow is being so charming…" You let out, pausing briefly as you unwrapped your legs around Boothill, your hand letting go of his crotch as you created a gap between you and him as you then stood on your own feet, guiding him against the wall as you then returned the gun in his holster before kneeling down in front of him. "I thought I'd give you a treat…" You added.
Boothill looked down at you with widened eyes as you skillfully unbuckled his pants, pulling it down and revealing his Cock. Despite being a robot, his cock stood lively as you stared at it. Pale in color with a slightly darkened tip.
Looking up at him, you gave his tip a small kiss before opening your mouth wide, taking the head in your mouth before pulling out again with a pop. Boothill groaned as he looked down at you, his hands reaching to hold onto your shoulders as he tried to push you away from his aching and throbbing cock.
"YOu don't want it?" You asked with a feign pout as your hands wrapped around his shaft, slowly moving it up and down as you gave his tip small pecks down to his shaft before finally reaching his hips.
"N-no…It's just that--Fuck…" Boothill let out as he looked at you, his grip on your shoulder tightening as he threw his head back, feeling your lips all over him.
You gave him a smirk as you then bit down on the flesh of his hip, leaving a mark before moving back and slapping his hardened cock on your face while still giving it kisses, giving it the love it deserves.
"Y/N…" Boothill moaned your name as he looked back down. "Jesus fucking christ just suck my cock already…" He groaned impatiently as his other hand moved to grab the back of your head and pulling onto your hair. As he pulled onto your hair, you can't help but let out a whimper as you looked up at him with a smirk.
"Impatient asshole…"You cussed at him as you tightened the grip around his cock, making boothill nearly fall onto the floor as leaned forward, cock throbbing in your hand as he let out shaky breaths of whimper.
Boothill stood up straight again as he glared at you, before he could even say something you just looked at him in amusement before swallowing in his cock, pushing him deep inside your throat. Boothill bit his lip to supress his groans, his entire body shaking from the pleasure.
All he could hear was gagging noises you made before you were pulling away from his cock, coughing as soon as you pulled away. Boothill looked back at you, his cock throbbing even more as he saw your mascara stained cheeks. A mix of his pre and your saliva dirpping down your chin.
"Fuck, so pretty…" He let out as he used his free hand to hold onto your neck, pulling you in for a soft kiss before letting go of you. You hummed as you let out a giggle before taking in his cock in your mouth one more time.
"Yeah, take me like that…" Boothill groaned as you bobbed your head, your moans adding an extra pleasure to him as the vibrations added a sensation of pleasure. His hands guiding you to move faster and deeper on him.
The bathroom was filled with Boothill's groans and grunts along with the sound of you gagging and slobbering all over his cock, at this point you were sure that whoever attempted to use the bathroom could hear what was going on inside.
"Wait--fuck, sweetheart…'m boutta cum…" Boothill let out in between grunts, you could only look up at him through your lashes as you continued to bob your head, your hand going to grip onto his balls, massaging them.
With one final bob of your head, Boothill pressed you down onto him, making you gag around his cock as he spilled all his cum down your throat. Pulling away, Boothill looked down at you.
"Jesus fuck…You look prettier this way, Doll…" He let out. You looked up at him as you stood up and swallowed his cum all while looking at him.
"You should cut down the Alocohol." You let out as you then headed towards the sink, turning on the faucet as you washed your make up and cum stained face. Boothill let out a chuckle as he then headed your way but before he could even hold you a loud knock resonated within the bathroom, grabbing both of your attention.
"Are you both done there!? I need to fucking pee!" A drunk man slurred from the otherside of the door. Turning off the faucet, you headed your way to the door. Opening it.
"Go pee somewhere else, This bathroom's out of order." You let out, staring down the man before slamming the door to his face, locking it as you turned to face Boothill.
Turning around, you started to unbuckle your belt as you then pushed your pants down. You then placed both your hands on the door, bending forward and exposing your dripping cunt to Boothill.
"Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna fuck me senseless?"
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mionemymind · 22 hours
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To Be Loved Is To Be Considered
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Summary: The moments that Wanda considered Y/n aka the moments her loved showed.
Warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship
A/n: I know y’all love angst but please give this fluff a chance too. GIF credits to @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo
Word Count: 1.3k
Masterlist
Love is not always about the sacrifices you do but rather the moments in life where you consider more than yourself. To be loved is to be considered. And this is how Wanda considered Y/n.
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On no particular evening, Y/n lay asleep on the living room couch after finishing her part of the shared chores. Wanda still had one more thing on her list when she noticed her girlfriend was sound asleep.
Tiptoeing closer, the red head saw the slight shiver on Y/n’s skin. Wanda clicked her tongue in disapproval and used her magic to get the blanket from the living room. Grabbing it from the air, she placed the blanket on top of Y/n and placed a small kiss on her forehead.
The music in the background was lowered to a small hum as Wanda continued with her chores, the last thing being on her list was to water the plants.
Taking her time, Wanda danced around their apartment as she watered the plants, even murmuring small affirmations to certain plants that were taking a while to grow.
And after 20 minutes, feeling satisfied with the clean apartment, Wanda slipped under the blanket and cuddled into her warm girlfriend. It didn’t take long for the red head to fall into a small slumber.
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Y/n has a certain lazy personality when it comes to her safety, something Wanda has always hated. But no matter how many times the red head will berate her girlfriend, Y/n never listens. In her head, as long as she gets back to Wanda, that’s all that matters.
So as Y/n sat in the long pre-mission briefing, Wanda had always checked Y/n’s suit for safety. Any time gadgets need an update, Wanda would be the first to put in the request. When she notices a hindrance in Y/n’s performance, Wanda could always tell why and how certain modifications can help.
Wanda paid attention to make sure that Y/n could focus solely on her job.During the times where they are partnered up, Wanda was always glad to double check over her work.
Y/n knew that when her suit always felt up to date, never without holes before a mission, and surprisingly clean, that Wanda must’ve done something.
So in turn, Y/n never failed to come back to Wanda.
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The warm dim vibe of the restaurant contrasted the loud activity that happened throughout. Wanda and Y/n sat closer to the bar, already dinning in.
It was date night, Wanda had been wanting to try a new spot in LA with great views and amazing food. “You made a great choice, babe.” Wanda smiled at Y/n’s praise.
“Should we get a couple of drinks?” As Y/n nodded in agreement, the waiter came with the food. “Here you go ladies.”
As he sat the food down, Y/n bit back the frown when she noticed the greens she specifically didn’t want mixed with her alfredo. Looking over Wanda’s food, Y/n smiled at how perfect it turned out.
“At least they got her’s right,” Y/n thought.
“Does everything look good?” The waiter asked, waiting for approval.
“Yeah everything-,” Wanda glanced at her girlfriend’s food with a disapproving look ready to say something but Y/n had interrupted her.
“Yeah, everything looks good. Thank you.” The waiter smiled and walked away. Once he was out of sight, Y/n sighed at her food.
“You should’ve let me say something dekta.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to argue with Wanda.
“I really don’t like complaining to them Wanda. Wait staff already have a lot on their hands.” Although Wanda knew they were both right, she was still unhappy to see Y/n unable to eat.
So as Y/n drank her water, Wanda switched their plates. Y/n almost disagreed, but the look on Wanda’s face silenced Y/n. “Now eat, let’s not waste a lovely date night now.”
Y/n smiled and took a bite of the steak, the juicy and flavorful feeling filled her mouth. As they continued the date, Y/n gave Wanda a couple pieces of steak as a small thank you.
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“Dekta, I’m home!” Wanda placed her keys in the bowl and walked into the kitchen, dropping the grocery bag on the counter.
“In here, babe!” Y/n yelled from the office. Once Wanda put away the groceries, her eyes finally set on the gift waiting for her at the kitchen table.
Walking to it, Wanda smiled at the bouquet of flowers wrapped in brown paper. In the middle, a note read ‘For my beautiful and lovely girlfriend, Wanda. Love, your dekta.’
She picked it up, enjoying the smell. Right beside it sat the Sokovian treats that she had mentioned craving the other day.
Already opening a pack, Wanda walked into the office, a gift in hand. Y/n was in the middle of playing video games, her back facing Wanda.
“Pause the game and close your eyes, dekta.” Y/n paused the game.
“Am I in trouble?” Wanda giggled as she placed the gift in Y/n’s lap, giving a small peck on her forehead.
“You’re not in trouble. But open them.” Y/n opened her eyes, mouth slack at the sight of a new gaming controller. The plastered smile on her face made Wanda smile even more.
“I hope you like the color.”
“Like it?!!” Y/n was flabbergasted by the gesture, immediately pulling Wanda in for a massive hug.
“Thank you so much, babe! I can game so much better with this.”
“Maybe then you can aim.” Y/n pouted at the slight jab from Wanda but still kissed her nonetheless.
“I’ll have you know, I blame the drift on my old controller.”
“Yeah, yeah. Give me another kiss so you can play your game.” Y/n pulled Wanda in for a deeper kiss, feeling happy for the unexpected gift.
As Wanda’s smile broke the kiss, she gave her girlfriend another peck on the lips and went back to the kitchen to grab her snacks. She ate them in their office as she watched her girlfriend still miserably lose in Overwatch.
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In their shared bed, Wanda sat in her spot, reading the new book assigned for the month. Laying beside her, Y/n watched a new show on Netflix, making sure to keep the volume low to not disturb Wanda.
“Babe, can you mess with my hair?” Before Wanda could utter yes, Y/n had already laid her head down on her lap, settling herself in a comfortable position.
Without a word, Wanda used her free hand and combed her fingers through Y/n’s hair. A soft groan escaped Y/n’s lips, as she said, “What page are you on?”
“Only in the second chapter, she’s being transported to a new place after killing the wolf.” Y/n hummed in response and continued to watch.
While Wanda combed through Y/n’s hair, she began to notice how her hand hadn't felt plastic frames. Realizing that her girlfriend had been unable to see the show this whole time, Wanda stopped her book. She briefly put it down to notice her girlfriend’s glasses were on the desk across the room.
Rolling her eyes, she continued to read as her magic floated the glasses right in front of Y/n. As if it was a silent command, Y/n put on her glasses, a small smile on her lips as she could finally see clearly.
Y/n placed a small kiss on Wanda’s thigh as a thank you. Together, the two continued to enjoy each other’s activities in the presence of each other.
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Love is not always grand. Love is mostly kind. Feeling considered is something the heart will forever crave. And Wanda will always consider Y/n.
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emphistic · 1 day
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Greedy
A/N: requested by @charbunxxi — i did something a little different, lmk if you would rather me repost a more accurate version to your request
The first thing Sukuna thought about after getting off his shift was you. You were the only thing he thought of while working, too. And, on the drive home, he almost crashed his car due to the fact that you were the only thing on his mind.
Some might say he's obsessive. Some might say he's deranged. Some might say he's a man deserving of nothing.
But then there's you, who says he's just a man in love.
He's a man who makes you breakfast and coffee — the way you like it. He's a man who draws you baths and washes your hair. He's a man who carries your bags after having gone shopping — with his card, obviously. He's a man who arrives at the apartment and — even then, still looks for home. He's a man who looks for you.
However, this time — unlike all other times, after slipping off his footwear and coat, he is unable to find you.
Maybe you were taking a shower? No. Maybe you were watching TV in the living room? Nope. Maybe you were doing laundry? Not even close.
When Sukuna finally succeeded in his search for you in your shared bedroom, he facepalmed. "'m so fuckin' stupid," he grunts out, as he crawls into bed.
You had fallen asleep while trying — but failing — to stay up in order to greet Sukuna after he returned home from work; but, he had had a longer shift than usual, and forgot to tell you.
He didn't mean to wake you. After all, it's not his fault that your pet cat just had to let out the world's loudest meow, announcing his arrival.
"You've got to be kidding me," he whispered, glaring at the little nuisance laying in the bed, cuddled up in your loving arms. The loving arms where he should be, not some ugly, good-for-nothing feline.
"My bad, baby. Swear, didn't mean to wake you—" He goes in to place a kiss on your cheek, but you simultaneously swerve away from him.
"No," you softly whine, shoving your head into the pillow.
"The fuck you mean 'no'? You seriously gonna deprive me of my well deserved kiss? After working a twelve hour shift?"
"No kisses." You mumble, your voice muffled.
Sukuna blinked at you, once, twice, thrice, until he finally concluded that you weren't just fucking around with him, and you were actually denying him of something totally essential to his well-being.
How was he meant to go on without your kisses? How would he live, breathe, eat, sleep, without your affection?
He tried to remove you from the pillow, but you instantly shoved your face back. "Noo."
"Sweetheart, I love you, y'know that already. And I wouldn't force you to do anything against your will. But, you don't understand, baby. What you're doing is completely and utterly cruel. This is wrong, on so many levels." He tried, again, to peel your face away from the pillow. And he succeeded, this time. But this time, you had a nasty pout on your face.
"You wanna know what's cruel? The fact you haven't showered, and yet, still have the audacity to crawl into bed. I'll have you know, I just replaced the bedsheets, and now here you are — dirtying them up."
"Babe, please—" He started.
"You are stinking up the whole goddamn apartment, Sukuna."
"You don't gotta be this way. We can talk it out."
"Sukuna—"
"C'mon, pretty girl. Just one? For little ol' me?"
You grumbled, but complied, albeit begrudgingly. "Fine, only one. But you have to take a shower after—mmph!"
Sukuna grabbed your face in his hands and tackled you down onto the bed, smashing his lips against yours so zealously that even the cat jumped out of your arms and off the bed.
-
It, indeed, was not just one kiss. But, it wasn't a total loss. Sukuna did end up taking that shower. And he gave you a reason to, as well.
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