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springlock-suits · 8 months

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Um. *twirls my hair* For this day I wanted to draw Funtime Foxy and or Ballora as real/showbiz inspired animatronics but then I realized I didn't. Want to. And might not have the time to depending on how the inspiration hits and if I'm going to add Baby to be a proper ladies night. So. I wrote a fic one-shot 👉👈

Bear in mind, I am an artist first. And failed English class on multiple occasions. So have fun with this I guess

Fnaf-tober | Day 4: Ladies Night

Fnaf-tober by miiilowo

Content: Willry if you squint, mostly in the form of Henry's thoughts. Gender.

This is about 1000 words, so one of my more lengthy fics, if not the new record holder

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Henry reread the design notes in front of him again. He scratched his beard a bit in concentration. The ginger man was currently looking over William's work on some circus themed animatronics, they were only concepts right now, silly little doodles made by a man who happened to enjoy the aesthetic clowns and the like. However... he couldn't help but notice a small, inconcensistent detail. Had William made a mistake? Maybe he should call him to make sure he's reading this right.

No... he can't do that.

Henry sighed and took a sip of the tea on his desk, perfectly sweet, though unfortunately has long since become room temperature. Henry huffed a laugh as he took another sip, William always called Henry's tea "hummingbird nectar". Always scrunching his nose in that cute way of his when he saw Henry drinking a cup of a sugary concoction. Henry shook his head, focus, what was he doing again? He looked back down, right, William's notes. Calling him. Can't do that. Henry sighed again, William had taken a break from work this week to take care of his kids while Bella was away on a camping trip with her girl friends. William would be back for work this Friday, and correcting a detail on some concept work truly wasn't that important. Especially since the "funtimes" won't see the light of days for years, if ever.

Henry nibbled on his pen, and looked up at the time. 1pm. Would William be busy? Michael was at school, but little Evan and Elizabeth were home. Maybe they were taking an after lunch nap at this very moment and William was just as bored as he was and wanted to talk about his animatronics some more. Henry rapidly tapped his pen on the desk, thinking. Charlotte was still at school. His little Button had mentioned recently that she wanted to see Uncle Will and her siblings again. He remembered how he tried once to explain to her that William is not her uncle, and even if he was his children wouldn't be considered her siblings, she just puffed up and crossed her arms, stating that she obviously knew that, but she had adopted them, so they're family now. William had laughed and ruffled her hair, saying he couldn't argue with that logic, and Charlie had absolutely beamed at that. Henry smiled at the memory.

He shook his head, getting distracted again, what was he...? Henry jolts up when he remembers. Right, of course, Charlie wanted a play date. He should call William to ask him about it. And if the conversation happens to steer towards other things, well, that'd be convenient, just some light chatter between friends. Henry holds the phone to his ear, having quickly dialed the number.

Ringing...

"Hello?" comes the sweet sound of William's voice. Henry realizes that he's been silent on the phone to the point of becoming uncomfortable. "William! I ah, hope I'm not being a bother right now- I was just uh wondering if you were free at some point this week. And your kids. For a play date. Charlotte wants a playdate." Henry quickly rambles out, embarrassed. William chuckles on the other end of the line, and Henry hears the faint whispering of Elizabeth, excited at the thought of playdate. "You're not bothering me Henry, Evan just went to bed, and Lizzie here is practicing her makeup skills on me. Of course they can have a playdate later, how does after school sound? Or after Charlie finishes with her homework I suppose."

Henry doesn't even take a moment to think, "Yes yes that's perfect, my little Button will be excited to hear the news." Henry paused. "Practicing her makeup skill on you?" William chuckled, and Elizabeth seemingly shoved her face right in front of the phone as she now loudly spoke. "I'm making Daddy pretty! We're having uh,, um,,, a." The toddler struggled to remember a word. "A LADIES NIGHT!!" she shouted triumphantly, proud of herself. William quietly told her not to be so loud, as she might wake Evan or hurt poor Uncle Henry's ears. Henry hummed. "You and William and having a ladies night Lizzie?" Elizabeth nodded, and then gave a quick "Yeah!" when she remembered Henry couldn't see her. "Me and Daddy are having a ladies night, because we're the only ones in the house right now other than Evan and Evan is sleeping." She shushed the phone for emphasis. "And we're both ladies so we're having a ladies night!"

"I see," replied Henry, not seeing. "That reminds me of something actually, could you hand the phone back to your father, dear?" Elizabeth nods and William gently takes the offered phone from her, and watches as she quickly becomes distracted with rummaging in her mother's makeup kit again. William smiles as he puts the phone back up to his ear. "Was there something else you needed Henry?"

Henry quickly shuffles through William's notes again. "Oh yes, um, I was just looking through your notes and wondering about... the funtime fox character? It looks like you switch between using he or she for. uh... the fox.".William hums, "Did I? I suppose I didn't notice." he chuckles. Henry nods, "Right then, so I was just wondering what you meant to use for the character, so I can correct it." William smiles, "There's no need for that Henry, he and she both sound correct to me for the fox. He is above all else a performer after all, I imagine she simply finds it easier to use whatever fits best at the moment, and whatever fits best for the performance." Henry paused for a moment. "Like... your Springbonnie?" William beamed, "Yes yes like Springbonnie! Though not exactly, Springbonnie entirely doesn't care for such things." William paused, "Say I've been thinking of a new funtime character too! A fox like the other one, their name is Lolbit... "

Henry smiled as he listened to William ramble on about his latest idea, he ended the call quite some time later when Charlotte excitedly bounced up to him after getting off the school bus, talking about how she finished her homework while on the bus and proudly displaying her work. She was, as expected, very excited to visit Uncle Will's house when he told her about the playdate.

When they arrived. Henry couldn't help but notice that William had yet to wash off the makeup his daughter had put on him.

#fnaf #five nights at freddys #this is embarrassing im sorry #*looks away*#my fic #William afton #Henry Emily #willry #<- just a smidge #william projects his gender feelings into his projects without knowikg he has gender feelings #henry is confused but supportive #miiilowo fnaftober #ooh oopises i definitely rushed though this again. things are happening fast #i hope my writing of Henry to be easily distracted and forgetting what hes doing came across right #ah fuck i edited the read more. well i guess we're posting this now lol #darlingsfnafau

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hai-nae · 11 months

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im gonna be honest, designing mandos is my guilty pleasure. ive got well over 10 of em, they aint ocs or anythin, i just think they are neat to create. but if i ever made em ocs, it's these two ive been i been mullin over for like 2yrs. (thank you bts for rekindling my focus into startin their revamp pff) i'd make em din's personal bodyguards, seems fittin. if i make it that far into my au i prolly will 🤷

#star wars #the mandalorian #din djarin #my art #my fics #everyday i think about sharin wips but i talk myself outta it im tryin to be better bout actually sharin again #grogu #baby yoda #ooh whoops forgot to flip din back ah well

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rosielav · 1 year

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Someone liked my fic masterpost in the year of our lord 2023. I made that in 2017 😭 and stopped writing fan fic shortly after lmao

#Listen if you want some cringe fluff I've got you #But I'm not into shipping 'real people' even if it's actually a persona not how they really are #I defo had it justified in my head until I saw some..... Very upsetting posts and I was... Ooh boy I was outta there #People were shipping members of polygon the game website??? And I was like oh fuck it's real #Yall are out here shipping coworkers sexually not just two guys who talk about butt fucking each other #So I was like ah fuck this is too much I can't justify this any more goodbye #But God what i wouldn't give to be in a Fandom I could write fic for #Should I write fics about podcasts I've listened to????#If you see this yell at me about it lol

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vvh0adie · 1 year

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how do I get Namjoon and Megan to dominate my 4’11 ass?

I need to be thrown around by a Titan and Amazonian.

#ooh imagine the fic😳#of sloth #love ah blk women to ♾️…

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chuluoyi · 2 months

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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 11:07 P.M 」

divorce scare apology fic🤞🏻 yes people, in the spirit of april 1, it’s gojo who is having dreams :)) and i promise you it’s straight up comfort fic~

a part of gojo's love entries

you’ve known something is bugging satoru as he hasn’t been teasing the heck out of you for these past three days.

and you were proven true when tonight, on your marital bed, he said—

“so… i’ve been thinking…” he started, seemingly deep in thought, playing with your hair. “oh, more like it’s because of this one bad dream…”

“what are you on about?” you raised an eyebrow. okay, you knew something was up with him, but him being a bit skittish made you a bit worried.

“umm, yeah. so, the other day i had this dream about us in tokyo district court—”

“district court—?”

“—getting a divorce, yeah.”

your eyes rounded, and satoru could feel himself almost regretting his words seeing your stunned expression, so he added a band-aid—

“no, it was just a dream! i’m not divorcing you, okay?!”

however, your expression had soured, as you looked down, visibly heartbroken. alarmed, satoru immediately pulled you to his chest.

“oh, ooh— there, there,” he soothed you, stroking your hair. “sweets, no. never. okay? i’m just telling you, just like what you did the other day.”

you had a dream of him cheating on you once, but this was wholly different.

“you’re the worst,” you accused, and despite yourself, you felt an ache in your chest. “how could such thought even cross your mind— that you dream about it?”

“if i can pick my dream… i’ll pick the memory from our honeymoon— precisely when i ripped your black and pink lingerie off and made you scream my name, you know that.”

you huffed, burying your face in his chest. “hmph. explain.”

satoru smiled, finding you so incredibly precious. silly wifey.

he proceeded as he pat your back. “nothing really, i’m still bitter too! no way in hell! but then i started thinking… what would you do in 0.001% chance of us being divorced?”

you pulled away, growling. “…so there’s still a chance—!”

“noooo! that’s statistically impossible! aren’t we having a late night talk? we’re always talking about imaginary scenarios at night, aren’t we?!”

what was the point of this? it was only upsetting you with each second.

“how could you ask me that?” you glared at him resentfully. “if we’re divorced, then—” you grabbed his hand and placed it on your belly. “what about baby? do you not want to see him anymore?”

and in that moment it seemed like he just realized it too as he sheepishly scratched his head, mouth gaping. “ah—”

his response caused your hormones to stir, and combined by your disbelief, you spitefully threw his hand away and turned to your side, refusing to face him.

“if you dare to divorce me, i’ll move out japan at a moment’s notice,” you spat out, crossing your arms. “i won’t let you see my baby— and i’ll put a restraining order on you too, just so you see.”

“whoa, wait—”

“or i can also jump from yasohachi bridge and then become a curse—i’ll haunt you to your dying days!”

“—?! you can’t do that!”

“oh, i can also remarry! i’ll marry ichiji so fast and by the time the baby is born, your kid will have his name instead!”

“ichi— hey! that’s insulting! i would’ve forgiven if it was nanami, but ichiji?!”

“shut up! you’re— you’re annoying!”

in hindsight, this wasn’t something you should get this much worked up for. satoru was obviously just being his dense self and you knew it, but somehow the thought of him suddenly not by your side anymore hurt you— and perhaps your unstable hormones played a part too.

. . . but then his strong arms wrapped around you in that instant, enveloping you in his warm and reassuring embrace from behind. “hey… sweets, don’t be mad…”

“…”

“if you do, baby will also be—”

“you are making us mad.”

“okay, okay.” satoru sighed, his right palm reaching out to caress your five-month baby bump, and his voice was tinted with slight regret as he replied, “sorry…”

you melted a bit, but still gave him the cold shoulder, showing how cross you were that he brought it up in the first place.

and both of you stayed that way for a while, and you started to get sleepy, until you heard him muttering—

“still… whatever you do,” his voice sounded strained, and it made you awake again. “even when i’m not here… you can’t get yourself hurt, alright?”

“what does that mean?” you finally turned towards him, your eyes shone with slight panic. “what do you mean with you not being here?”

“nothing, sweetheart.” satoru grinned, pinching your cheek. “just saying—since i’m away often, don’t do anything reckless, you can get hurt.”

“don’t put it as if you’re going to go some place far away.” you didn’t know what you were spouting now, but you were tired and just didn’t want to pursue this conversation any longer.

you bit your lip, not looking at him. “or… i’ll get sad.”

seeing you so vulnerable and open like this made satoru realize that as much as he needed you to stay sane, you also needed him. the clarity stirred something within him, causing warmth to rapidly spread in his chest.

and he felt soft. so soft for you. and he adored you, more than anyone else in this wretched world.

“aw, look at my baby girl.” your husband cradled you close to him with a wide grin, patting you soothingly, his heart fluttering. “how can i leave you be a single mother? i’m here, yeah? always.”

and you believed him. otherwise, you were willing to risk it all just to get him home, by your side.

you smushed your face into his chest, ignoring your burning face. “hmph, being a single mother isn’t that bad. i can still drain your wealth.”

“huh?! wait, you just said you’ll be sad without me!”

and you thought, being in his embrace is the most comforting place of all.

epilogue

“by the way, i just realized…” satoru fixed his frown on you accusingly in the next morning. “how is your taste in men so bad? why ichiji as your first pick?”

“uh,” you were at a loss of words, totally not expecting this discussion on a brand new morning. “because… he’s kind? he’s easiest to sway—”

“so you’re saying… you can seduce him easily?!”

“…sort of? but you’re right, i should go for nanami. he’s way good-looking. or his apprentice… what’s his name again? ino takuma—”

“nanami? ino?! wait a minute…! y-you’re my wife… but you’re also thinking about which man is easier to seduce and which is more attractive?!”

“uh— you’re the one asking first!”

“still! so you do think about them! about weaker, lesser men who are not me!”

“nanami is not—!”

“hoh?! so it’s nanami, huh!?”

“don’t you dare to start anything, gojo satoru,” you hissed. “you said my taste in men is bad. so that includes you too.”

“wha?!”

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heartsburst · 2 years

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complex (demo) by katie gregson-macleod on repeat

#frankie yells #stranger things #force of gravity #this song is just mike!!!! so mike!!! like it's literally the first song in his playlist and aughaughaughaufgh #it's so relevant in so many spots and it hurts hurts hurts #ouchies #i can't even be coherent about it i feel like i am shaking mike like an 8-ball #HE. I AM HAVING THOUGHTS ABOUT HIM #also 21 questions by waterparks omggfg it just it just fits force of gravity byler so well and oh ah ow ouchies ooh ah augh #my brain is a mess over this fic #but that's probably bc i read 100k in less than 24hrs....#truly unhinged behaviour what the fuck #aaaaaaughaughaughaughjaufghg

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arminsumi · 8 months

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Scary Movie Night

G. Satoru — さとる ⋅ fem reader

🔞 mdni / nsfw / smutty

NOTE : i have no idea, i just wrote and wrote and then a 4k fic came out. i was supposed to be watching scream and totally got sidetracked with this daydream of watching a horror movie with stsg and then you and gojo just start making out when he leaves 🥴

SUMMARY — the three of you planned to watch horror movies all night, but instead you started making out with Satoru on the couch after a long tension built up between you.

WARNINGS — not proofread pls ignore errors, cheesy, spicy make out, dry humping, smutty, sexual tension, heavy flirting and teasing, something between u and Suguru 🤭, lighthearted jealousy, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, princess etc), gojo is so bratty, kinda sub!gojo stuff but he's also a bit dom??, lap straddling, Suguru walks in on you two

WORDCOUNT — 4k

🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)

"AAA ~ !! "

And the first character of the movie dies, of course, you already knew that because Satoru so kindly spoiled it minutes earlier.

"Seriously? I could scream more convincingly than that."

"I need proof." Suguru jokes teasingly, arm draping sultrily over the couch riiight around your shoulders. He stuffs some caramelized popcorn in his mouth. How can he make even the act of eating popcorn look so sultry and attractive?

"Shut up." you shake your head and smile. "This movie's so cheesy, which one of you picked it out again?"

"Satoru."

"Hey! Cheesy isn't bad. And besides, the killer's a hottie."

You chuckle with Suguru. "So we're watching horror movies because the killer is hot?"

Satoru shrugs like it's obvious, scooting closer to you as inconspicuously as he can. But he's not smooth like Suguru; you notice the increased proximity and roll your eyes.

"Yeah, why else would you watch a horror film?" Satoru says.

Suguru responds, "Ah... maybe because you want to get scared?"

"Eh!" Satoru waves his hand dismissively.

You decide to tease him a bit just to get a reaction out of him. He's so easy to tease. "I get it. Satoru's too scared to watch something that's actually scary."

He glares at you immediately. You laugh, Suguru stifles his laugh and habitually rubs his index finger back and forth across his upper lip. (And he even manages to make that attractive.)

"I'm not scared of anything! I can watch any horror movie, no problem." Satoru boasts.

"Okay, big boy, let's put in something that's actually scary." Suguru teases.

"Ooh, how about the Grudge?" You suggest.

"Nah, too scary for me." Suguru admits.

"Can't handle a real scary movie, huh big boy?" Satoru mocks spitefully.

Suguru looks over at him and raises his brows very high. There's a tension between them, but then it breaks when Suguru decides to swap out the movies. The cheesy one is tossed, and hello the Grudge; you're nervously fidgeting and curling up in anticipation when the intro starts rolling.

"Be right back, getting refills. Satoru don't eat too many sweets you're gonna go into a sugar coma." Suguru sighs right after he says that, because the white-haired menace shovels a handful of sweets into his mouth and chews.

And he chews as loudly as possible right next to your ear. Chew chew chew.

"Satoru, I swear to god."

He giggles mischievously, stealing a sideways glance at you.

Why does she look so good tonight? This isn't fair.

The movie's starting, Suguru's trying not to make too much noise as he rifles around in the kitchen for refills. Such a sweetheart, he's refilling your drink without you even needing to ask.

Before his best friend can reassume that suggestive arm-draped-over-the-couch-but-really-over-your-shoulders position, Satoru does it; you feel the warmth and slight plush press of his toned arm against the back of your head.

Suguru doesn't think much of it and just sits back down normally. Though you do feel a bit sandwiched between them. But that's not uncommon in your friendship; they've been sandwiching you between them since highschool.

Satoru audibly swallows, but covers it up by making obnoxiously loud noises; shifting his legs, tucking them, untucking them, putting them over your lap and cheekily smiling until you scowl and push his legs off and then he pouts. He pouts so genuinely that you apologetically allow him to put his thigh over yours, just how he likes to do when the both of you are sitting side-by-side.

The movie's rolling. All three of you have your eyes glued to the screen. Satoru can feel you start to scrunch your shoulders up, so he teases (and talks during the movie, like he always does).

"You gettin' scared, princess?" he smirks. "Should I hold you — "

"SHHH!!" you and Suguru hush him in sync.

Satoru rolls his eyes and shuts up, but only for a little while. Then he pipes up again.

"Man, this isn't even scary, we should put something else in — "

"SHHH!!"

He shuts up. And then, the funniest thing happens.

Satoru starts getting scared. Suguru notices it, but you don't; and it makes him quietly smirk. He would never expose his friend like that right in front of his crush, though. So he doesn't tease and just casually watches the movie, completely immune to the horrors.

You can feel Satoru tensing up, but then as if he notices you noticing, he relaxes his muscles. Then he clears his throat loudly.

"SHHH!!"

"Sorry! Jesus I can't even clear my throat? Bleh."

"Satoru, quiet."

He pouts. Now it's silent again, except for the movie playing and the rain beginning to hit the window softly. The room is dimly lit, and the atmosphere isn't eerie but horror movies always change that.

It's raining, raining, raining, the movie is playing, the three of you are sinking into the couch, invested.

Then there's a small, sudden thunder crack and it makes Satoru jolt like a cat.

"Haha." Suguru stifles his laugh.

Satoru pokes hard at his cheek. "Shut up."

You tease, "Gettin' scared, princess?" you mimic mockingly.

"Yeah right! I can feel you trembling besides me." Satoru grumbles, unexpectedly defensive.

"Oh yeah. I'm just so terrified. Hug me, Satoru, I'm scared." you joke sarcastically. But sarcastic or not, his heart lurches.

You don't notice until you're halfway through the movie, but Satoru was the one trembling; very subtly. You can even feel the thighs of his muscle tensing up — he's still resting his leg on top of your thigh, unmoving. Why would he move? He's comforted by your body warmth. He needs that right now.

There's another thunder crack, and it makes both you and Satoru jump this time.

"Haha. Wimps." Suguru laughs, playfully mocking the both of you.

"Ah shut up!" you furrow your brows.

"Y/n, if you're scared you can cuddle m — "

" — meee, you can cuddle me, baby." Satoru interrupts Suguru, resulting in a funny side-eye moment between the two of them. Suguru shakes his head.

Satoru's scooting even closer, pressing his body against yours. Side by side. Warm. Firm and soft. Basically cuddling. You're sure you couldn't be any closer, but then Satoru manages to become even closer.

Your words echo in his head and for some reason, get him feeling hot beneath the hem of his pajama pants.

Hug me, Satoru, I'm scared.

Seriously? Did you realize how hot you were? How dare you say something like that?

He craves more intimacy with you. And he's no stranger to just randomly rearranging your body or playing with it, he's always been touchy since high school. Like a cat, he only gets physical and comfortable with calm people like you and Suguru.

So he takes his thigh off your thigh, right? And then two big hands grab your thighs, press them together and put them right over his lap.

"What the hell...?" you laugh under your breath.

"Isn't this comfier?" Satoru murmurs sensually, lips grazing your cheek.

"Augh, get a room you two. Gonna make me nauseous." Suguru grimaces.

"You're just jealous!" Satoru giggles, trying his best to not look at the TV screen.

"SHUT... up and watch the movie. Your talking is distracting me." Suguru complains.

"Ughhh, but it's so boring I don't even wanna — " he pulls up the blanket over yours and his head. " — watch it anymore. Oh hey, this is intimate, isn't it? Hehe."

"Satoru! I wanna see the movie!"

"No you don't, you're scared shitless."

Suguru's just sitting to your left, shaking his head as he listens to you two flirt under the blanket as if it magically enclosed you into a space away from the world.

"I can hear you two." he grumbles. "If you're gonna make out, at least do it quietly."

"We're not making out!" you squeal embarrassedly, even though Suguru was clearly joking. There was no sign of making out happening under that blanket.

"...yet." Satoru winks, but you miss it because it's so dark now with the blanket draped over the two of you.

You can almost feel him blinking at you. Even if it's dark and impossible to see you, Satoru will still try to; he's just always been like that, ever since you first met him. In fact, on the first day you met him, he wouldn't stop staring at you, as if he was captivated or fixated on some aspect of your face or behavior. Completely spellbound, starstruck, heart-eyed...

Suguru excuses himself to the bathroom so you two can have your little moment.

You ripple the blanket off your head to look at him as he leaves. "Bring back those pretzel snacks."

"M'kay, angel." Suguru hums.

"Thanks, my boy."

Satoru looks at you very dramatically.

"What?"

"What the hell? I'm right here! You know I'm the one who's had a crush on you all these years, not him! RIGHT SUGURU?"

There's a hesitation, then Suguru confirms from the bathroom even though he didn't hear a damn thing. He just agreed because it's his best friend asking for a confirmation.

"YUP THAT'S RIGHT."

"See! What, why are you laughing?" Satoru starts to smile because you're starting to break down into laughter.

He's facing you now. And it makes the both of you aware of just how much bigger he is, and how much smaller you are. Daddy long legs aside, he's just bigger than you; the broadness of his shoulders, the size of his hands — even his ears, which he remembers you used to tease him about in high school. He's got those cute ears that poke out a bit.

"Satoru..." you murmur against his face.

His heart pangs. "Huh?" he's so caught off guard, expecting you to lean in for a kiss. So he surreptitiously wets his lips with a swift swipe of his tongue.

"...you know, I'm sorry for always teasing you about your ears in high school. Looking at them now, they're really cute." you admit, hand coming up to caress his ear; fingers just grazing his sharp undercut.

His stomach knots up, and he goes silent, too stunned to respond. "Oh... thanks..."

You're side-eyeing the movie for a moment, and poor you; it's at just the right moment for a terrible jumpscare.

You reactively grab for Satoru's shirt and arm, squeezing tight and nearly yelping because you were caught so off-guard. Your heart is racing and so is his; but not because of the movie.

"I hate this film!" you whine into his chest, and he thinks he's in heaven right then. Is his crush really holding onto him during a scary movie? Um, hell to the yes. This is his dream. This is exactly what he wanted out of this experience, as cheesy as it is, he doesn't care that it's cheesy in fact he likes that it's cheesy.

"Tell me about it..." he huffs under his breath, and it fans your face and he can feel it come back to him. That excites him so much.

"And it's all your fault we're watching it, 'cuz you had to show off your 'manliness' or whatever! So Stupid!"

"Yeah, but, it got you in my arms, so it wasn't such a bad idea." he flirts with a slight nervous shake in his voice.

"Huh?" you look into his eyes. Ooh boy, he's holding it in. He's refraining. He's tying his hands behind his back, metaphorically; but not for long...

"What? I've got a pretty girl clinging to me 'cuz she's scared of a horror movie. And it's a rainy night. Bonus points." he smirks.

"Oh shut up... stop flirting with me or I'll — "

" — you like it, don't you? Being this close?"

You look at him in surprise. Where did that serious tone come from? It's laced with something sexual that just raises the excitement in the air between you and him. He's on edge. He has to kiss you. He's thinking about it so hard that he's sure he'll just snap at any moment.

"Y-yeah..." you admit.

You're suddenly so conscious of the closeness. The slight press of his biceps as his arms ensnare you, how you're practically sitting on top of him — when did that happen? His breath smells like the sweets he's been snacking on all night.

His breath fans your face and now he's really thinking about it as he stares at your lips.

"You sooo wanna kiss me." he cheekily teases you.

"Ew, cheesy." you cringe at him. You playfully shield yourself by putting your hand over his lips. His pretty nose peaks over the edge of your palm.

When you cover half his face like this, you realize just how striking his eyes are. Even in the dim light, they're capable of holding your whole attention. The movie is just another background noise.

"Mmf."

"What was that, loser? Can't hear what you're saying. Speak up." you tease.

"Mmf mm-hmmf-hmf? hmf hmf." it sounds like he's offended, and then he's snatching your hand away and climbing on top of you.

He's soaking up your every giggle. And underneath his playfulness, he's trying to show off his strength. Not like you notice, you're just enjoying it; being pinned under him like you're the tiniest thing on the planet to him.

Now he lifts his hips away from you, so you don't feel how hard he's getting. He can feel himself throbbing in his pajama pants. Such cute pants for the fact he's got a big cock underneath them

There's very little space to think when he's so chokingly close to you. His scent pervades your senses. His whole essence invades your space. It's just Satoru Satoru Satoru, nothing else is in your head. And for him, it's just you you you, nothing else is in his head, either.

His eyes roam up and down your body in one small moment, it excites his fantasies. Now he's wondering not just about what your lips taste and feel like, but also about what your body tastes and feels like; he knows one thing's for sure, and that's your softness. He's hugged you like he's trying to crush your bones in the past, and muttered praises about how impossibly soft your little body is in his.

"See that?" he murmurs, blurting out his thoughts without thinking, "Our bodies fit together perfectly. 'sure our lips would, too."

"Wow... where did that come from... you just gave me butterflies, Satoru." you chuckle nervously against his lips.

He's so tempted. He's right on the edge. Why's he holding back? He's forgotten by now.

"Good..." he mutters suggestively against your lips, eyes beginning to become lidded with sultriness as he leans in for a kiss.

And oh wow... that's a kiss he won't forget for the rest of his life. It's soft. He melts against you like butter in the sun. He was so right; your bodies fit together perfectly, and so do your lips.

" 'Toru..." you mumble his sweet nickname into his mouth and it nearly makes him moan, but he holds it in and kisses you like a gentle boy.

He's trying so hard to mask his horniness, but it's showing through; he's starting to shake from how bad he wants you. This kiss is enough until it's not; and then he turns up the heat. His lips glide over yours, wet sounds fill the room and the horror movie keeps playing in the background.

Kiss kiss kiss. He's kissing you like he's scared he'll never be able to after this moment, like this is the only time he'll have the courage to kiss you. And that courage and confidence falters mid-kiss, because he wonders worryingly if you crave him as badly as he craves you.

"Don't pull away... " you mutter against his saliva-wettened lips.

He breathes excitedly, eyes lighting up at your words. "Nah, if you want more kisses... 'gonna have to come get 'em." he pulls back, and you immediately miss the feeling of his torso pressing against yours.

"Teasing bitch, damn!" you complain, "Come back — kiss me more — oh you're so annoying!"

He giggles, lips feeling tingly. His heart is beating so hard he can feel it all over his chest and cheeks. And those poor cheeks. He hasn't blushed this boyishly since the last time you gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"Come get your kisses ~ " he teases, beckoning you with his finger. Oh you hate when his confidence swells so suddenly like this, he becomes a menace. Well... 'hate'. You love it. He knows it. That's why he does it.

"Don't wink at me, you freak..." you crawl on top of his lap, and he didn't expect that even though he should have.

So now your face drops in surprise and amusement. "Oh... oh. Getting a lil' excited, big boy?"

A noise comes out of him, his face stuck with this embarrassed smiling expression. "Uh... uhah. Haha. A little bit? Shit don't blame me, you're fucking hot."

"Mmm, am I?" you lean close, lips grazing across his lips, eyes staring into his eyes. He feels electrified.

"Wow... uh..."

"Speechless, 'Toru? That's so unlike you." you tease him in such a low voice that he leaks a little precum. And you can feel it.

"W-wow... what... no... I'm not... holy shit... haha..." and then he laughs it off, nervously placing his hands on your hips. "D-don't straddle me like this, you'll make it worse."

"I'll make what worse?" you tease dirtily.

You give him so many butterflies right then that he starts feeling a bit lightheaded.

"My... uh... nothing..."

"...your? Continue. What were you gonna say? Now you've got my attention and we're all alone..." you keep teasing and it keeps making his heart flutter.

Wow. Call me lucky. She's straddling my fucking lap and teasing me? Am I dreaming?

"Wow... you're so speechless." you chuckle.

"Fuck off... what d'you expect... you're the one sitting on my dick..."

"... oh, sorry." you mutter a teasing apology and begin to move away, but his hands grip tightly and refuse to let you go.

"Stay."

"Ooh, now you're dom? Really thought you were sub for a second there." you cheek.

"Cheeky bitch..." he mutters before crashing his lips haphazardly against yours.

And surprisingly, the second kiss feels better than the first. It's electric. Your bodies are on fire and all the two of you are really thinking about is taking this to the bedroom.

Subconsciously grinding on his lap, feeling the outline of his cock, even feeling the wetness a bit as his tip digs between your thighs. You're starting to feel lightheaded now, too, with how he's kissing you.

"Trynna... t-turn me on or something...?" you giggle into his mouth.

His big hands come to cup your cheeks, trusting that those hips won't attempt to move off his lap again.

"... yeah..." he breaths heavily, looking at you so deeply that you feel like he's staring into your soul.

The moment is so hot and steamy that you feel like there's visible heat clouds hanging over the two of you. But then the moment is interrupted —

"Are you guys done making out — OH HAHA WERE YOU ACTUALLY MAKING OUT? I was just kidding — WHAT THE FUCK WHY ARE YOU GUYS ON TOP OF EACH OTHER! THIS IS HORROR FILM NIGHT NOT PORN NIGHT!" Suguru starts laughing, clutching his stomach.

"Party pooper!" Satoru frowns over at him from underneath you. You're mortified and laughing like a seal, slowly getting off Satoru's lap which makes him whine.

"What the hell! That's funny, were you two seriously fucking in front of a horror movie. Satoru, that's not classy at all."

"Shut! Up!" You throw a pillow at him, and he comes over to throw a snack packet at you, cheekily smiling. "We were not fucking!"

"Sooo... just dry humping?" Suguru teases.

"SHUT UP!" you and Satoru yell in unison, both completely embarrassed. Suguru laughs so hard that his cheeks hurt.

"And anyways, take this damn movie out, it's creepy! I'm not gonna sleep tonight..."

"...aw, big baby's scared of horror films after all. I knew you were bluffing. Y/n, will you sleep with my best friend tonight? I think otherwise he'll be sucking his thumb and not getting any rest."

"Oh you're sooo dead, come here." Satoru glares playfully at him and climbs over you to get to Suguru.

And the boys start playfighting, and you shake your head and get up to take the movie out yourself.

"I'm getting my own apartment one day, I swear. Living with you two is a nightm-AAAAHH!!' you whine, seeing the creepiest thing yet on the TV.

They laugh at you together, and it reminds you of high school so much at you feel a wave of nostalgia.

"No more scary movies!" you declare. "Never again!"

"Aw, but they brought you and Satoru closer together. I think next time you guys are too shy to kiss or fuck, just put in a horror film and it'll get the atmosphere right."

"Suguru, be careful what you say. Remember you don't pay rent."

Satoru cackles. "That's right!"

"Wow, what the hell... I'm never letting you borrow another hoodie." he retorts, purposefully bringing up the hoodie thing just to catch you and Satoru off-guard.

"WHAT! You what?! What??" Satoru is in between being playfully jealous and genuinely jealous.

"Suguru!" you cover your face out of embarrassment. You feel lightheaded from all the butterflies that the both of them cause in you.

"I didn't say anything." Suguru acts nonchalant, tearing into the snacks that were supposed to be for you.

"You! Gave her! Your hoodies!? This isn't gonna be a polyamorous thing, I'm possessive you know that!" Satoru's playfully battering his friend and his friend isn't reacting to it, which makes it all the more amusing. He's just languidly chewing on snacks.

"She asked for them." Suguru exposes.

Satoru stops and looks at you like he's been betrayed.

"Suguru!" You squeal, "Nono, Satoru he's lying — "

"YOU CAN HAVE MY HOODIES, WHY WOULD YOU WANT HIS!!" Satoru's getting louder and funnier by the minute.

"I'm sorry I didn't know I could ask for your hoodies." you blabber.

Suguru's watching you and Satoru like you're a comedy show, dusting the sugar coating of the candy off on his pajama pants.

"Of course you can have my fucking hoodies you idiot! I'll give you this one right now, damn it!" Satoru says.

"STOP TAKING YOUR SHIRT OFF — " you cover your eyes.

Suguru laughs, "As if you weren't planning to take it off earlier?"

"Exactly! Here, take it." a shirtless Satoru is shoving his red hoodie onto you.

"You two are ridiculous. I'm going to bed."

"TAKE MY HOODIE."

"NO."

"SO YOU'LL RUB YOUR COOCHIE ON ME BUT NOT WEAR MY HOODIE?"

"HAHAHA WHAT?"

"SATORU!! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!!"

Suguru's caving in with laughter after Satoru says that. His laughs always become soundless after a while, it's the cutest thing. His whole face is stressed into amusement.

"You love me!" Satoru's darting behind the couch for protection.

"You're so dead!"

"You're turning me on with this serial killer role you're playing right now!"

"GOJO SATORU!"

Suguru looks at Satoru, "Oh no, sh-she government named you, boy. Better run." he speaks through his laughter.

"I haven't done anything!"

"YOU SHIRTLESS FREAK, YOU EMBARRASSED ME IN FRONT OF THE ONE PERSON I WANNA BE COOL IN FRONT OF!"

"Aw." Suguru blushes for you a bit, "Cute."

Satoru stops, looks between you two, and gets riled up again. "What the hell!"

"I didn't mean it like that!"

And it goes on and on like that, until the three of you are too tired to keep laughing; and you're collapsing tiredly on the bed with Satoru after chasing him there. He said a lot of embarrassing things, but you got him back for each one.

You catch your breaths, and Satoru looks over at you, suggestively wiggling his brows.

"You scared from the movie? Need a big strong man to hug you 'n kiss you?"

"Satoru, kindly shut the fuck up."

"Wow, is Nanami rubbing off on you? You sound like him."

"You're a menace."

"My dick's a menace, too."

"Hahah, yeah right."

"I'm serious!"

You giggle, looking at him enticingly, "Then, wanna prove it to me?" you say just barely above a whisper.

Satoru's face gets hot, and what do you know he's already got a tent forming in his pajama pants.

"Yeah... come here. I'll show you."

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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marvelobsessed134 · 5 months

Text

Want her to unwrap me

This is part of my 12 days of fics. Merry Christmas Eve everyone!

Pairings: Dom!Wanda Maximoff x Sub!Fem!Reader

Warnings: light degradation, fingering, oral (r receiving), rough sex, vibrator use, mommy kink, squirting.

Summary: In which your girlfriend walks in on you singing an explicit version of Ariana Grande’s Santa Tell Me

You were cleaning the kitchen counters with Christmas music blasting through the Bluetooth speaker. Recently you’ve been obsessed with the original explicit version of Santa Tell Me by Ariana Grande.

Little did you know, your girlfriend was just trudging through the door of your penthouse with bags of gifts for the other avengers.

As you sang the song, you changed the pronouns.

“Want her to unwrap me like oh ooh ooh.”

Those words struck Wanda like a lightning bolt to a metal pole. Hearing you sing such filthy lyrics during a season that was so wholesome, made her ever the more horny.

The witch sat the bags down on the floor before creeping up behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist. You jumped a bit, but relaxed knowing it was just Wanda.

“Hi baby.” You smile, letting her peck you on the cheek.

“Hi sweetheart. Interesting song you’ve got playing.” She purred and your face went beet red.

“Oh! Um- you didn’t hear all of it did you?” You asked, embarrassed.

She chuckled, “I sure did. So, do you want me to unwrap you?”

A couple minutes later you were in a Christmas ribbon lingerie set. It was red and connected by a halter. Had a big bow over the chest and a long ribbon covering your pussy like a pair of panties would.

You were standing against the kitchen island as Wanda had instructed you to. The witch was very fond of the scene before her.

“My, my. An early Christmas present? This all for me, baby girl?” She asked, her eyes wandering over your body making your pussy more damp.

“Yes mommy.” You whispered.

“Good girl.” She smashed her lips to yours, passionately making out with you. You moaned into her mouth, wrapping your arms around her neck as you kissed her back.

She pulled the ribbon off and groped and sucked on your nipples. “Fuck, mommy.”

Once she paid attention to both sides, she picked you up and laid you on the counter. She pulled the crotch of the lingerie to the side and dived into your soaked pussy. Licking and suckling on your folds and clit, and everywhere in between.

You gripped her hair as she ate you out, “Oh mommy.”

“Good girl, go ahead and cum for me.” Her voice was dark and sent you over the edge. You threw your head back and moaned as you released your juices all over her face.

“Good girl, oh taste so good for mommy. Bend over the counter now.” You quickly got off the counter and scrambled into position. You could see in your peripheral vision that the witch was pulling something out of her pocket.

“Todays a special day detka, because I got you an early Christmas present.” She put the small vibrator up to your clit and turned it on.

You jumped at the feeling and held onto the counter for dear life. You then felt her fingers teasing your entrance before pushing into you.

You moaned and cried out as she fucked you hard. “So tight, this little pussy was just begging for me wasn’t it?”

“Yes! Oh fuck Wanda!” She didn’t care that you used her name during sex, even though her title was mommy. It was just too hot hearing you moan her name.

“You gonna cum, slut? Gonna cum for the second time?” She rasped in your ear.

“Yes! Gone cum so hard! Ah-“ you cut yourself off, clenching around her fingers feeling overstimulated as you squirted all over the place.

“Holy fuck that’s hot!” Wanda groaned. Turning off the toy, she took her fingers out of you and turned you around.

“Open.” The redhead instructed and you obeyed, taking her fingers and sucking your cum off of them.

“Good girl. Cmon, let’s go wrap these presents.”

#marvel x reader #marvel smut #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #top!wanda maximoff #top Wanda #12 days of fics

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

hi hun!! i have another in a week :]] it's a little less cute than sunshine reader, but i read the fic where reader swore at someone and everyone was shocked and i thought it was so funnyy

i was thinking a.. hothead!reader who's got a sailor mouth and quick temper, so naturally she curses a LOT. and the boys dare her to try not to curse for just one day, and she accepts it, but without them even doing anything mischievous to tick her off, she drops something and she's like "fuck- shit, damn it!" and the boys are just giggling their head off and constantly reminding her to put money in the swear jar

ooh and maemae, i love the way you write descriptions omgg <333 especially when you write from james' pov, he's such a sweetheart!! ahh you're such an amazing writer, your stuff gives me all the warm fuzzies :] i hope you're taking care of yourself in the midst of writing all these requests!!

- ✏️

Thank you my love!

join the party

poly!marauders x hothead!reader ♡ 677 words

You know your boyfriends are plotting something. You eye them suspiciously as Sirius whispers to James, both of them giggling like children.

“What,” you say flatly.

James doesn’t even bother trying to hide his grin. “Nothing, sweetheart.”

You huff, biting your lip before you can call him any name that’ll make you lose your prize. It’s nine in the morning, and you’ve only got about sixteen hours to go with no cursing. Twelve if you go to bed early as a measure of self-censure.

Remus had raised an eyebrow at you after a particularly colorful stream of expletives the night before, asking as you made your contribution to the swear jar, “Do you think you could go even one day without swearing like that?” You said you could, and Sirius had pounced on the opportunity for a wager, betting you that you couldn’t go the entire next day without using a single curse word.

You’re sure the boys were hoping you’d forget overnight, but you weren’t accustomed to losing, and damned if you weren’t going to get your prize. Sirius had so little faith in you that he’d agreed to letting you pick what movies you all watched for the next month if you won the bet. The next month. That meant a month-long reprieve from those stupid fucking heist movies they all loved so much.

You’re also certain that, failing their first plan of your poor memory, your boyfriends are going to be cooking up some other scheme to make you falter. One of their famous pranks, to be sure. They tease you incessantly for your short fuse, and they’re bound to try and ignite it any way they can today.

You wonder what it’ll be. Dog breath potion slipped into your water bottle? Stink pellets tossed into your room? Or maybe something so simple as salt in your coffee?

You look down at the mug Remus handed you a minute ago, sniffing at it. They always use Remus when they want to be inconspicuous; it’s so hard to suspect him. But he wants you to lose the bet as much as anyone.

You stand, carrying your still-full mug into the kitchen.

“Not this time,” you mutter.

Remus looks up from his paper, frowning at you as you stomp over to the sink. “Dove, what are you doing?”

“You must think I’m so gullible,” you drawl, pouring the hot coffee down the drain. “There’s no way I’m ingesting anything you—” the handle of the mug slips from your grasp, the dish shattering in the sink “—ah, fuck!” You look up to see Sirius’ eyes widen, glee sparking to life, and realize what you’ve done. “Shit. Damn it!”

Remus puts a hand over his mouth while Sirius hoots, and James simply collapses in giggles, disappearing behind the couch.

“Tha—that was too easy,” Sirius cackles, using his forefinger to wipe under his eyes. “We didn’t even do anything yet!”

“Sweetheart, I’m almost disappointed,” Remus says, shaking his head even as he grins from ear-to-ear. “I thought you’d make it to the afternoon at least. Get your money for the jar.”

“That’s, what?” James' voice comes from behind the couch. “Three dollars?”

“Five,” you say gravely, holding up your favorite finger on each hand. “Fuck you, you assholes.”

“Pretty sure that’s six, babydoll.” Sirius cheeses at you. “Gestures count, don’t they Prongs?”

“A dollar per hand,” James agrees, now recovered enough to sit up on the couch.

You seethe at them, and Remus comes into the kitchen to help you clean up your mess, patting your shoulder consolingly.

“We’ll put it towards date night,” he says.

“Good idea.” Sirius kicks his feet up on the table, making a show of lounging in his chair. “I’m thinking tonight, we order in from that Indian place and watch The Italian Job. What do you think, lads?”

You bristle, but Remus sees the comeback sizzling on your tongue and squeezes your shoulder warningly. “Save your money, dove. Want me to make you some more coffee? Seems like you might need it today.”

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kaaaaaaarf · 9 months

Note

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💙

Aww thanks for this, Lynx!! Okay, here goes. 💖💖

1. The Killing Time (Unwillingly Mine) - aka Murder Husbands! The first fic I ever tried to write and my favourite of all my Remuses. Wolfstar are just so fucking unhinged. It's truly a joy to write. 2. Back When We Were Dinosaurs - aka Museum. These wolfstar are so dear to me!! The fic just gives me the shot of fluff and joy I need some days. It's also extremely personal, as I'm writing about Toronto and places that I both love and have been to. Both of them have aspects of my own personality as well. It's the hardest of my fics to write, because it's so important for me to get it right. 3. When You Open Your Legs series - Okay, so this might be cheating, since it's a whole series BUT my Hatefuck boys are so precious to me. The first in the series was the first fic I ever published, and my first foray into writing smut. I never intended it be more than a one shot, but they would just not leave me alone!! They begged to continue being cunts to one another and fucking about it, so the sequel was born. Now I have 3 more I'm actively writing....life is funny. 4. Ah-Ooh (werewolves of london) - one of my short one shots! This one just delights me, I don't know. I love the idea of Remus in the shack playing his old rickety piano and singing Warren Zevon. 5. Only Get (My Rocks) Off - Part of my Hatefuck extended Universe! Completely separate story from When You Open Your Legs, this one shot just tickles me. HOA violations as foreplay will never not be funny to me.

#my fic #lynx tag #i am working on new chapters for museum and mh not to worry #my brain is just broken atm #fic: only get (my rocks) off #fic: ah-ooh #fic: hatefuck #fic: museum #fic: murder husbands

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drs-fan · 17 days

Text

LN4 | FWB

hiya um i wanted to try writing a go so here's my first fic bc i want to celebrate Lando's first win

love it hate it idk but hope u enjoy

warnings: angst, alludes to sexual activity (no actual smut), not proofread, some swearing, [name] used

word count: 2k

They were introduced by a mutual friend at a party.

“Hey,” he said, half tipsy, as your friend introduced you, “Nice shoes.”

“Thanks. They’re new.”

“Ah.”

Silence. Your friend had gone off, leaving you two alone to ‘mingle.’

“Um so…”

“Yeah…”

“Hi.”

You both burst into embarrassed laughter.

“I have no idea why she thought this was a good idea, but nice to meet you.” You put out a hand for him to shake. He shook it. His hands were warm and large.

“I mean, you’re pretty cute.” He still hadn’t let go of your hand. It fit nicely in his, he thought, lost in your glittering eyes which crinkled at the corners as you smiled.

“Generally, I think, if you think a girl looks nice, you’d say like ‘you’re beautiful’ but I guess I’ll take ‘pretty cute.’”

“I didn’t mean – I mean, you’re very nice looking.” He let go and rubs vigorously at the back of his neck, flustered.

You laugh, leaning into him. He smelled nice. “Thanks. You’re getting better at it. You look nice too.”

Leaning against the bar, he asks, “So, do you live in Monaco?”

He looked better than nice. He was hot. “Yeah, I work here and there, but now it’s Monaco.”

“You like it here?”

“Hmm. It’s fun, but a bit small. You keep running into people you’d rather not meet.”

He chuckles, “I get that. It’s hard getting around unnoticed.”

You roll your eyes, “That’s most likely because you’re famous – and you drive that Jolly.”

“I sold that Jolly, it broke my heart, but I don’t drive it anymore.”

“Why not? I love the Jolly – it’s so cute.”

He shakes his head, taking a sip of his drink. “It’s not quite the lady killer, is it?”

“It would kill me – if someone came up to me and offered a ride in their jolly, I’d –“ you click your tongue, bending your knees and pointing at the floor. “No question.”

He spit out his drink as he laughed, making you laugh as well. Both of your loud laughter makes people look over. “You would?”

“Oh definitely. That Jolly is hot.”

“What about for the Lamborghini?” He steps closer, hands fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“Hm. What Lambo?”

“The Miura.”

“Ooh, hot. But depends – who’s driving it?” You smirk, not avoiding his eyes.

“You, if you’d like.”

Your hands travel along his arms, and you hear his breath hitch as you say, “I’m holding you on that promise, Norris.”

“No problem.” He smirks back.

“For the time being, dance with me?” You drag him by the hand to the dance floor, fingers intwined with yours.

For the next half hour, his hands travel up and down waist and hips as you sway to the beat, while yours are interlocked behind his neck. He looks gorgeous with his curly hair bouncing around. You run your hands through your hair, making him close his eyes leaning into your touch. Lando pulls you in, grip tightening around your waist and says into your ear, “Hey, you wanna get out of here?”

Even though his apartment was littered with your makeup, your clothes, and your favorite snacks, you two hadn’t yet put a label on it. ‘We should take it slow,’ he said, ‘Don’t rush things yet.’ You agreed, though halfheartedly. It wasn’t your style, having a casual relationship.

After every race overseas, your feed would be full of photos of Lando with his hand too low on another girl’s back. Of him dancing with pretty girls with better bodies, better outfits, all while you were lying in his bed, in his shirt, wrapped in his sheets that no longer smelled like him.

Often it would be:

“Who were you with?”

“No one, just some people I met.”

Or “Who was the girl? You seemed friendly.” “Just a friend.”

He was delightful when he came home, acting like he was your boyfriend – buying you the coffee you liked or cuddling up to binge watch Netflix – but he refused to be seen in public together.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he would say with a pout, “The fans, they’re too much sometimes.”

They could barely go out together, with you leaving his apartment 30 minutes before he did or vice versa. Public events were a definite no-go and even your work events you had to go alone. He also decidedly avoided the topic of you coming to watch the races.

“Are you embarrassed of me?” You asked, sitting up on his bed, as he once again refused to bring you to a race, almost 10 months after that first night.

“No, baby, but I –“

“Stop calling me baby, because I’m apparently not your baby.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what, Lando? Do what?”

“Try to make me feel bad. It’s our decision to make, not just yours.”

“If it’s our decision to make, why do you always get to decide?”

“I told you – I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Yes, that and you don’t think I’m good enough to keep around. Noted, Lando.” You jump out of the bed, throwing on your clothes, and walk out the door.

It was your birthday. You were sitting at a small restaurant, sipping red wine while watching the sun go down over the horizon. He promised he would make it. It would have been a big deal to finally be going out in public together, but it’s now 7:48. 48 minutes and counting.

You could sense the stares of the waiters, once full of pity but now impatient, waiting for the poor girl to leave so they could serve the table. 50 minutes. At the hour mark, you sighed and got up, paid for the wine, and left. The walk back to your apartment was long, and your heels were digging into your skin. Your skirt kept riding up and rain started to pelt down on your skin, washing away your teartracks. You look up to the sky and laugh out loud, throwing up your arms, “All this for what?” Shaking your head.

He came knocking at your door at 11PM that night.

“Hey, Lando.”

“Hey, look, I’m so sorry. Something came up, I thought it wouldn’t take long, but they held me up like an hour, then I had to –“

“Yeah, let’s not do this again. I’m tired, let’s talk tomorrow.”

“Look, [name]. I’m sorry.”

“I know. You were sorry when you couldn’t make it to my work event. You were sorry when you had to cancel on meeting my sister, You were sorry when you couldn’t invite me to any of your races. I’m sick of your sorry. Go away, Lando. Please.”

“I missed you. I came as fast as I could.”

“Well, not fast enough. Today was my birthday, Lan.” Your voice broke, and you looked away. “You couldn’t make time for my fucking birthday.”

“I’m so sorry, babe, please.”

“I’m tired,” You shake your head. “Tired of all this, being your dirty secret. I loved you, but this is too hard.”

“I love you, [name].” He grabs your hand as you try to close the door. “I love you.”

“Don’t lie.” Your voice falls flat. “You love having someone to come back to, you don’t love me. You can find another me.”

You push him away and close the door, bolting it. You can hear him still, his apologies muffled by the door.

You came down with a bad cold that day. Unable to get up, you stayed in bed until the fever passed through. Delirious, you thought you heard Lando’s voice calling outside. You slipped in and out of your dreams and your pillow was drenched with cold sweat and tears. Next morning, feeling a bit better, you opened the door and was greeted by a thump as a body hit the floor, hard.

“What the fuck?”

The body jolted upright. “Good morning.” It was Lando, looking disoriented and dishevled, blinking up at you.

“Oh god, I thought you were dead. What are you doing h-” Your sentence was cut off by a coughing fit.

“Are you okay?”

“No. I’m not. I need to get some food and pills – I ran out of ibuprofen.”

“Wh- are you sick?” “Yes, Lando. I was stood up by my date, so I had to walk home alone, in the rain, in my heels. Please move.”

“I’m so sorry.” Were those tears? “I’ll go get the food and meds and stuff. Please stay here.”

It was too good of a deal to argue. “Fine.”

He came back hands full of bags. “Here’s your ibuprofen. This is for your coughing, this one’s for the fever. This one just in case your stomach doesn’t feel well. They said it might be a problem. I don’t know so I just said I’d take it.” He sifts through the other bag. “Here’s the soup you like from the Chinese place down the street. If you don’t feel like soup, I also have porridge. You take your pick, but you need to eat something.” He shakes the third bag. “This is like, snacks and stuff. I also have chocolate and stuff but I’m not sure if you should be eating that right now. You need water.”

He leaves to get water from the kitchen, leaving you bewildered and surrounded by medication, food, drinks, and snacks. He comes back, with a wet towel and a cup of water. “I can feel the heat radiating from you. Come here.” He dabs at your neck and arms with the ice-cold cloth, making you wince and shift away. “Baby, you’re going to burn up again if I don’t do this. You eat up.”

You stiffen slightly at the nickname but let it pass, taking your first bite of soup. You’re both silent as you eat, and he continues to fret over you like a mother hen.

“I’m fine, Lando, please just sit down.”

He sits, still fidgeting with your blankets.

“I’m sorry, [name].”

You sigh. “I know you are. Don’t you have work to do, Lando?” It wasn’t unkind, but the bite in your voice made him flinch.

“You’re more important than work, baby.”

“I wish you would have made that decision 6 months ago. I’m sorry too Lando, but I don’t think we’re going to work. Thank you for all this though. I’ll take it as your last apology.” You smile weakly, “It’s not going to mend the bridge. This was your choice, you wanted us to be no more than fuckbuddies.” He winces again at your crass words. “It’s true, and you know it.”

He looks down at his hands, “I know. I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair – and I’m not ashamed of you, you know that right?” He looks at you, and you stare back, eyes brimming. “You’re an amazing person. I don’t deserve you.” He wipes away the single tear rolling down your face. “I’m going to miss you.” He twiddles his thumbs uneasily. “Would it be okay if I stayed today? Just for today. You’re sick and I don’t want to leave you like this.”

“Okay. Just for today.” You give in, savoring his scent for the very last time.

After washing up, you snuggle into your bed together.

“Did you stay here yesterday as well? I thought I heard your voice.”

“Kind of. Between eating and sleeping. I was worried.”

“You’re a creep.”

“Hey, I was concered.”

“That’s stalking, that is.” You smile, and he smiles back, reaching over and pulling you tight into his chest and kissing you on the top of your head.

“You’re going to catch a cold – you need to race this weekend.” Your voice comes out muffled.

“I wish you could come with me.”

“Well, I can’t, Lan.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I.”

You’re lulled to sleep by the sound of his heartbeat. When you wake up the next day, the only thing left of him is his hoodie he was wearing, hugged tightly to your chest.

a/n: im new idk how to do this

#f1 imagine #lando x reader #ln4 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula one imagines #formula 1 fic #first fic #lando norris angst

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coldfanbou · 7 months

Text

Mile High

The replacement fic for day 18 is mile-high sex with Sana.

Length 1.3K

Sana x Mreader

After boarding the flight, Sana waited around for the plane to begin flying. She intended on doing one thing, and that was joining the mile-high club. The horny woman sat back and waited until her long flight was properly in the air. Sana tried to look like she was paying attention to the flight attendant's instructions; she had been on so many flights she could probably give her own safety presentation. Sana tapped her foot quickly, getting irritated as she waited for her chance. One soon presented itself, though. Sana had chosen a flight that would take place at night. She couldn’t have anyone seeing her walk into the cockpit. Your co-pilot ran out of the cockpit and headed straight to the bathroom. Sana took her chance and hurried into the cock pit, closing the door behind her before anyone could see her head in.

Hearing the sound of footsteps behind you, you turn on the autopilot before looking at the intruder. You turn around and see Sana brushing her skirt with her hands. “You can’t be in here, Miss.”

“Aww, I can’t?” Sana asks as she steps closer to you. “I just wanted to meet the pilots and treat them to something for doing their jobs so well.” She says while lifting her skirt to reveal her panties. They were sheer lace and were open along the middle, making access easy. “So where’s your friend?”

“He’s, uh, sick in the bathroom.” You explain to Sana that your co-pilot at something that didn’t agree with him, and he was currently in the bathroom having a terrible time. Sana rubbed the back of her head; she planned to be double-teamed.

“Then I guess you’re going to be the one who gets all this,” Sana says while removing her shirt blouse. She takes your hand and presses it against her breasts. Sana moans softly, keeping her smile focused on you. “So what do you say? What to join the mile-high club with me?” You nod your head slowly. Sana bears her teeth, happy at your answer. She straddles your lap and tosses her blouse onto the floor. The young woman reaches behind her back and unlatches her bra. She watches you as she takes one strap off, giggling as you marvel at her. Sana takes off the other strap while holding her bra in place. “Are you ready?”

“I’m ready.” Sana giggles again and lets go of her bra, letting it fall between you. Her perky breasts have nice brown nubs atop them. They were already hard, you note. “Can you see how excited I am?” Sana raises herself, letting you get at eye level with her tits. You glance at her hard nipples and don’t notice you're slowly moving closer to them. Sana’s breathing quickens as she feels your breath on her tits. “Just a little closer.” She says in hushed tones. Once your lips meet her small bud, Sana begins running her hands through your hair, holding you close to her chest as you suckle on her tit. She moans lightly; some laughs mixing in as she feels your hesitant tongue tap her nipple. After some time, Sana pulls you off her breasts and kisses you. You feel her tongue move across your lips; it’s her way of asking for more. You grant her access and feel her invade your mouth.

Your hands wander Sana’s body, her smooth skin letting your hands glide across it. They reach her ass, cupping each cheek. You give them a slight squeeze, making Sana jump in your arms. “Naughty boy. I guess you can’t wait.” Sana hikes up her skirt and begins undoing your belt. You pull your pants down a bit, just enough for your cock to be free. Sana gives you a big smile, “Ooh, nice and big.” She says, giving your cock a squeeze with her small hand. She strokes it, her hand gliding along your shaft as she silences your moans with a kiss. She speeds up, making you struggle to stay quiet despite the kiss. Sana laughs, seeing her quick handjob put you near the edge. “Enough playing around; let’s get to the good part.” Sana rubs her slit against the head of your cock, coating in her juices. “Ah, it’s finally coming.”

She says with a smile. Sana presses the head against her entrance and lowers herself onto your cock. You feel her puffy lips give way to her warm walls. They hold you tightly as you push deeper into Sana. The pleasure almost feels like it’s too much. Sana looks to the cabin's ceiling, letting her moans fill the small room as she feels you enter her. “That’s it,” She moans. As Sana starts riding you, she looks through the windows and takes in the night sky. You take the opportunity to latch onto her breast again; this time, you’re not so hesitant and tease her properly, moving your tongue around her nipple before running your tongue over it. Sana moans louder as she feels your cock hitting new parts. Sana drives herself onto your cock, getting every inch inside her. The pleasure for her is great, and combined with you suckling on her breasts, Sana feels like she’s on cloud nine. She rocks her hips quickly, making you both groan. As you near your climax, Sana begs for you to cum inside her. “Fill me up,” She repeats as she bounces on your cock.

You can’t hold on much longer, and that time is further reduced when you feel Sana’s walls clamp down on your cock. Sana begins to move like a maniac, bouncing on your cock while rocking her hips wildly. “Shit, I’m cumming. I’m cumming.” She moans. Sana grabs onto your shoulders as she impales herself on your cock, making you cum inside her. The grin she has on her face is enormous as she feels the rush of warm cum fill her womb. “Ah! It’s here. It’s filling me up.” Sana groans as she continues to rock her hips.

Minutes go by before Sana climbs off of you. She kneels in before you and grasps your cock. “I have to clean you up at least a little.” She says before swallowing the head of your cock. Sana’s tongue deftly swirls around your shaft. Your moans continue as you recover from your previous orgasm. You warn Sana you're going to cum again, but she continues. She pushes your cock into the back of her throat; you feel it wrap around the head of your cock. The tight and warm space feels amazing. The added pleasure from her tongue swirling around your shaft makes it feel that much better. As your orgasm nears, Sana feels your cock begin to throb and pulls back, leaving the head in her mouth while she quickly strokes your shaft. You start to fill her mouth with your seed before Sana takes you out of her mouth and lets the final spurts of cum paint her face. She enjoys the warm liquid hitting her. Once you’re done, she opens her eyes and stares at you, “How do I look? Sexy?” She says in a teasing tone; she already knows. Sana can feel your cock grow harder in her hand.

The two of you decide to go more rounds, finally stopping an hour before the flight is supposed to land. Your co-pilot has been stuck in the bathroom nearly the entire flight, only coming out in the last twenty minutes to see Sana sitting in his chair with her face covered in cum and without her shirt. “Aww, here comes the missing piece,” Sana says while staring at him. “It’s too bad you couldn’t join us; I really wanted to be double-teamed,” Sana tells him. He stands there awkwardly, wanting to say something but struggling to come up with the words. The look on his face tells you everything; he’s cursing himself for getting sick on the flight. Sana stays in the cabin far after the other passengers have left the plane, her face still having some cum splattered on it and her clothes a mess.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #twice smut #sana smut

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astralnymphh · 8 months

Text

veiled affections ⚝ | ellie williams

☆࿐-ˊˎ farm!ellie x fem!reader

⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆

✧˖ ° 🕯 bright blessings!

AN: quick little smut to hold me off before i work on a bigger project/series fic!! more casual and less proofread like my last one but still pretty good ifya ask me <3

tags/cw: NSFW!! SMUT!! 18+ MDNI, usual playful bickering, one second of cuddiling, poetic ahh writing, very mild foreplay, hella dirty talk, lotsa swearing, oral (receiving) spitting, clit stim (receiving), petnames (babe, baby, good girl)

WC: 2k+

designated song: stargirl interlude - the weekend & lana del rey

synopsis; swept under your fossil gray wool blanket, a body deprived of slumber and living the effects of back-bending chores all around the farmhouse has you fatigued and yearning to supply the last ounce of energy with a bit of literature. eventually, ellie will set that book on rain check, and your fatigue, ..and her boredom. honestly, she'll definitely be the one to steal your energy instead of the book.

radiance incarnate is what lies behind the glass pane just ahead of your bed-post. lunar light outstanding the dark night, never lacking a few stars that flecked the sky above the nocturnal forest, at least what you could perceive through a regular sized window. fusing with the comfortability of your mattress and cloaked in a warm wool blanket makes for a nice end-of-the-day reward while you immerse yourself in the realm of 'the odyssey'. ellie's not in bed. not in the room. she's presumably downstairs finishing up something, so not a clue of her coming is on your mind.

you wriggle around the soft bed altering your position to have one leg bent and the other draped over, the book upheld by the bulk of your thigh making it easier to flip through. page by page, word by word, space and time diminishes around you and is replaced by this entrancing world of mycenaean greece portraying the aegean sea. the room was dimly lit and still, minus the muted sounds of an owl and crickets chirping beyond the wooden walls. serenity lasts for a good half hour before an upsurge of hard rubber footsteps wake the floor by the bedroom door to the right of you.

"hey babe- ooh, what'cha reading?" ellie's voice grapples your focus to her profile, attired in her white shirt, grubby denim and converse that look like they've been dragged to hell.

"the odyssey." you respond as she begins to lurk closer, arms crossed.

she swipes her tongue across her lips, saying, "y'know.. savage starlight might be more.. fun to read?" in an obviously sarcastic note, creasing her brows together accompanying a brass smirk.

"to you, maybe. I actually enjoy this a lot." you cave the book over your chest, sitting like a roof, "you just don't have a mature taste."

"whadda'ya mean? comics are for everyone, and actually easy to understand." she clambers atop of your hips, descending her face upon you, "unlike the odyssey."

"pshh, the odyssey is a classic." you highlight.

"you're just mad that im right."

you pucker a pout, slowly lifting the book between your noses till ellie knocks it down plumb on your collarbone.

"ah-uh," she intently strikes spires into your eyes with her persuasive peer, narrowing those lids in an undeniably tantalizing way, "can't ignore this now."

"you're right." you spat out and divided the space with your book again.

"c'mon.." she prys the book from your limp grasp, leaving it astray to the bed adjacent to you, "I'm here now, aren't I?" a humbly intimate whisper croaks from her toothy grin.

you banish your sight to the headboard above, pondering the words that would wisp from your lips, "I have a few pages left, babe, then we'll do whatever.."

"mmk, 'gonna lay on you though." she giggles and shuffles along the length of you, interlacing your limbs together and smushing her cheek on your stomach. her arms swathe your hips and tuck underneath your butt.

the book diverged from your fingertips finds its way back, cuddled between your thumbs and eclipses ellie's head from your vision. your pupils root back to the muster of sentences lining the page, with a certain breath gusting onto your mildly exposed midriff.

a scant minute survives before a husk is heard, "mmph- so warm.." the tip of her nose drags on your skin as she faces downward, marking an indulgent smooch to your abdomen.

that brought a melliferous smile to draw out, instilled with admiration from her speckled kisses. it anchors your attention unwillingly when these kisses continue but you'd rather void it and tread on with reading as ellie treads on with a rampancy of taunting kisses. normally, this'd be blasé, but tonight, it's turning your tides.

ellie muffles, "wann' kiss every inch.." her nibbles subside in target of your navel, nuzzling on the pouch of your belly and biting your shorts' band, "fuck.."

"els."

"mhm?"

"what're up to?" the book slants down.

"you."

"elsies.."

"just showin' my love.." her tone airs up and turns raspy.

"I think it's more than that." you dig at her transparent peak in sensuality and prod her foot with yours.

ellie can't necessarily disprove this, she was blatantly horny but wanted to keep that 'under the covers' till you shared the feeling outwardly. a shameless smirk paints her mouth regardless, "y'know what I really wanna do?"

"what?"

a gnaw at her lower lip fracts the answer briefly, uttering, "I wanna eat your fucking pussy." and blunt she was, verdant eyes fastened to yours. she's so eager for you, clawing at your loins.

a shudder bolts the extent of your nerves and you clench around nothing but a throb at the contents of her question, visibly ruffled up by it, "babe.."

"can I?"

nary a gloom of doubt inhabits your mind, the way she's laying on your body, patient to taste you revs you up like a torrent of arousal. oh my fucking goddess. it's making you go wild.

"yes.."

"shit- m'kay, lemme just.." ellie wrinkles up the sheet in her fist, tossing it overhead till her head was obscured by it. the amber hue of her hair is subtle under the thin pearly sheet as she slithers down between the interstice of your thighs.

maybe the now carnal environment made it inconvenient to carry on with the perusal of your book, but you're elevating it back up from your sternum regardless. the vivid thought of her eating you out while you read is a bit elating, is it not?

ellie's cunning lips park at the epitome of your core, locking her biceps under your slack legs and dangling her still shoe-clad feet off the beds' brink.

"can't wait to see that beautiful fucking pussy.." her veiled voice has strings of raw ardor plucking in her throttle rippling onto your clothed entrance with a muggy pant on every word.

an unheard gulp passes through to the trench of your chest, sending out a reflex of sweet sensations to your pelvis, whimpering, "mhh- ellie.."

"shhhshhh.. i got'chu.."

she begins to pleat your panties over themselves and slip them off your legs, whizzing them away to some lifeless nook of the tucked-in sheets.

"fuck.. shit-" ellie heaves in awe, even day after day of seeing you bare, it's so titillating to her, drool is abandoning her lips.

the paragraphs living on the pages merge into an unintelligible blob as your vision drowses and the only sensation you can detect is her breath lathering your exposed slit. an open 'ptui' is heard prior to a wet glob landing on your clit and evoking a jolt from your body.

"so sensitive.." she pokes fun at your reaction, slapping her digits down on your sappy pussy and rubbing the spit through your folds, which to much avail, juts your body again.

"fck!" you hack out a swear at each writhe and prod.

"yeah, like that?"

the grip on your book tightens, causing it to tremor in your shaky hold.

"gonna taste so fuckin' good, mmh.." she murmurs to herself but you catch the gist since immediately after her lips envelop your clit and enlist deft torpedo laps to it.

a heap of pleasurous pricks throb in your cunt and garner a gentle mewl from your chords, whining, "gh- mhhhn.." tenderly in growing bliss.

ellie laps your clit in brisk flicks while sucking it up with noises similar to kissing resounding through the sheer fabric cascading over her head.

you observe the cover moving with every mild thrust of her head, creasing and shuffling with the halo of her hair. a hand prowls from the sheets' hem and searches for anywhere to rest, to which you beckon it to your breast.

she realizes this and gives it duo squeezes for good measure and her unemployed fingers knead the squishy flesh of your ass, all while smirking.

"mmhh~ I wanna see you.." you mumble into the whafted-shut book, knocking off the already sliding sheet with your knee to reveal a flushed ellie with her nose buried in your crotch, her pretty face poised between your thighs, stuffed in your cunt.

her irises hark this newfound horizon before her and diffuse an intense glare that shudders your soul, sinking her lips deeper into those parted folds and drinking up your sticky deluge.

her mouth disconnects with threads of saliva and slick following, "this pussy tastes s'fucking divine, you know that right?"

"y-yeah.."

"could go down n'you for breakfast, lunch n' dinner.. fuck- baby.."

ellie retreats her keen tongue, dipping into your entrance and soaking up the lewd coating of your walls. oral sounds of her mouth practically having a make-out sesh with your puffy lips overflow the room and bounce like an echo betwixt your ears.

"ohh my godd.." your moans enhance and amplify in the sea of ebbing relief and flowing pleasure.

her pecan speckled skin tinted with rose is glazed with a sinful slick from how far she pushed her face in, a terribly arousing sight to behold when she withdraws to praise her own work.

"how's m'pretty girl doing?"

"s-so.. closee.."

"want' you to moan my name when you do, yeah?"

"o-okay.."

"I wanna know how fuckin' good I make you feel." her sharp curses stay unyielding in her expression.

"mh-mhghmm.." your throat clogs up in anticipation.

ellie pours over your bare stature one last time before gripping the back of your knees and pushing them up till your feet meet the sky.

"that's better."

her lips smash into your cunt once again and prove to be frothing with a craving for you, clenched brows and grunting into your groin intently. she explores every attainable inch like she knows it, licking up your pre-cum like it's the last fucking meal on earth.

"oh- fuck!" you wail out, webbing your fingers in her frizzed up locks by habit.

her inhuman speeds catch you out of the blue, binding her tastebuds with your natural taste and delighted in every millisecond of it. she hoists onto her knees and hovers over your bottom half, wriggling her tongue over your entire opening and sending that abused clit into overdrive.

"el-ell.. ellie! i can't fucki- ah!" a high squeak blazes from your gullet.

she blurts out, "cum on m'fuckin' face." submerged in your folds.

"els.. mh!"

it's the end for you when she starts purposefully moaning on your bud, finally ushering your climax to dull your senses and numbfuck your consciousness. your reality is painted with a globe of starlight just by the heavenly feeling of it.

"good girl..-fck, there there..." ellies gingerly tone conflicts with her devilish play, drinking up the breach of cum gushing from your orgasm.

"oof.. jeez.." you recline your legs once her hands flee, huffing your way down from the celestial heavens.

ellie clambers up and collapses next to you, a smug and prideful visage staring back at your profile.

"did ya finish those pages?"

"erm, no."

she butts off a laugh, "eh, well.." her palm advances your bangs, hooking them behind the conch of your ear, "ended up having more fun, yeah?'

"i- yeah.. I guess.."

"you guess?"

"coulda been a lot better."

"whaaaat?" she mimicked an offended countenance.

"like it's nothing to write home about-"

"u're just trynna rile me up!"

"what if I am?" you boldy tease, tutting your skull side-to-side.

and that's ellie's one weakness, teasing. her brows hike, hollering "ohhh- I see how it is!" and rolls on top of you and thrusts her pelvis down with clear intention, "c'mere-"

"fhmm--" her willowy finger seals your lips, heeding the provocation you've cast into her mind.

"you're on."

⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆

hoep you enjoyed <3

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kairiscorner · 9 months

Note

making miguel blush by touching his muscles and teasing him w over dramatic “ooh” and “ah’s” 🤭🤭

i like the way you think anon :> (tbh this is what i had in mind for reader in the jealous miggy fic, MAYBE I'LL WRITE A BONUS SCENE TO THE ORIGINAL FIC, WOULD Y'ALL LIKE THAT ...)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

one way to get you to shut up. – miguel o'hara x reader

miguel never usually lets anybody touch him, let alone get up close and personal with him; but you were always the only one he permitted to get closer to him, to be within a closer proximity, because... your presence was calming, comforting to him—dare he say being in your presence is proof that he interacts with other human beings and doesn't stay cooped up in that dim, dark office of his like a hermit. though the worst part about being in your presence is that you knew every way to push his buttons, to send him over the edge with your snarky, cocky demeanor. maybe you meant to, maybe you didn't, but the way you spoke to him whenever he let you touch him... hell, the way you even did touch him was so hypnotic, enticing... it was hard to deny, it did something to miguel.

"wow, miggy... you have quite the biceps." you'd purr to him with a cheeky grin on your face as you ran you soft fingers up and down the curves of his bulging muscles. miguel nodded, knowing you had much more than that to say about his build. you sighed as you soon brought your other hand to caress the grooves and bumps of his arm. your hands made their way to his broad shoulders, with you whispering all sweetly how massive his frame looked. you gently ran your fingers over his chest and gave a small, "ooh..." at the feeling of his pectoral muscles that were underneath the nanotech suit. you repeated this cycle of teasing miguel for his beautifully sculpted frame, making sure every bit of him was touched and admired greatly, mainly with little "ah"s and "ooh"s.

his breath kept hitching in his chest and throat, his commanding voice that was about to tell you to shut up, to get your hands off him in a low growl was silenced every time he heard you praise every bit of his excellent figure. his breath came out all raggedy and labored, his exhale shook as it left his body, in unison with you sighing as you teased how delectable his muscles seemed underneath that suit. "c'mon, miggy... give me a fun time, would ya?" you asked him with a giggle as miguel seized your hand that reached out for his face and stared down at you with a hint of red in those dashing, yet deadly, eyes of his. his face remained stoic as a statue as he leaned in closer to you, his breath hot and beating against your face as he practically snarled his answer: "don't be too bold with me now."

and with that, you had finally been silenced. miguel's face was flustered and had a forced expression of sternness on it—but deep down... he had yearned for you to touch him again, to praise him for his one of a kind body that you loved feeling up and sneaking glances of, and feeling your lips against his as you told him you... loved him, not just for his body, but for who he is. even if the guy he is was pretty intimidating and no-nonsensical, he yearned for the day when you could quit the teasing (or keep teasing him until he melts out of sheer embarrassment) and just... kiss him already, make him yours; his body, his mind, his heart, his life—he'd give it all to you in a heartbeat.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @capnshtfce @fictarian @yuridopted0 @luvstarrstruck @melovetitties @arachnoia @ophanimgold @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @simsrandomstuff @fable-library @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok

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matthewtkachuk · 4 months

Text

bad at love

Breaking your brother's only unspoken rule—don't date his teammates—has never been an issue in your adult life. Until now.

pairing: jt compher x reader

warnings: angstttt, smut, a minor car accident with mentions of injury (broken bone/concussion), and the usual (alcohol, swearing, etc. etc.)

word count: 4.9k

a/n: hiiiiii @comphy-and-cozy i'm your super secret fic exchange writer! sorry this is a day late and a dollar short. one of these days @wyattjohnston is going to perma-ban me from participating in exchanges. until that date she remains my ever loyal editor. mad thanks to @thomasschabot for reading it first and telling me they loved it even though they're contractually obligated to do so and for physically being there when the fic idea popped into my head <3

It’s not the first time you’ve shown up at your big brother’s house with a face full of tears and a couple bags full of all your worldly possessions. Despite your best efforts and well intentions—if you had to guess—it likely won’t be the last.

It is the first time you’ve done so with him being a married man, and so it’s your sister-in-law whose comfort you really seek and are expecting to pop up behind the slowly opening door in front of you.

Unfortunately for you, and for the poor soul you really don’t know that well, it’s not Kenzy who opens the door but the over-the-summer pick-up from Colorado.

If it had been any of the other, more tenured of your brother's teammates, you might have been waved inside with nothing more than a sympathetic glance and an unspoken ‘again?’.

Instead, JT’s look of utter confusion has quickly evolved into something more akin to a quiet rage, and you’re reminded that he is a big brother himself. The look is familiar to you, having inspired a similar one on Dylan’s face more times than you can count.

It’s been a really fucking long day, and you don’t have the emotional bandwidth to have any sort of reckoning with some guy you barely know in your brothers drive way.

JT’s in the middle of some sort of sentence that begins and also ends with “What—” as you none too gently push past him in order to finally gain entry to the house.

The mix of sympathy and feigned disinterest that greets you on the faces of your brothers teammates who occupy the large sitting room has your stomach rolling uncomfortably. It seemed like the entirety of the Detroit Red Wings were always around to witness your spectacular failures. What must they think, watching you disappear with the next great love of your life, only to reappear once again with bags packed in a manner of months?

You could hazard a guess at what your brother thinks, the variants of ‘I told you so’ that live and die on his tongue without ever leaving his lips. He wraps you up in an infamous Larkin hug that serves to fix a tiny crack of your broken heart, and so you revel in it like you used to revel in the comfort when the pain you felt was because of falling off the monkey bars when you were a kid.

But, he has a house full of hockey players to entertain and Kenzy has a glass of wine with your name on it. Dylan returns to the living room and you slide out to the back porch with your sister-in-law, briefly catching the eye of the one who let you in. You don’t see the telltale signs of judgment reflecting back at you, but maybe something else entirely.

Outside you pour your soul alongside the Malbec. Curled up on the wicker chair under a blanket you tell Kenzy about Owen and the promises he failed to keep. She oohs and ahs at the appropriate times, commiserating without belittling you.

By the end of the night your heart—and the bottle of wine—feels a little lighter. There’s a little less shame as you make yourself at home in the spare bedroom that might as well permanently be yours.

Owen visits you in your sleep, breaking your heart again and again until his face morphs into one with a ginger beard and kind eyes.

Those kind eyes become a fixture in your post breakup life. If he’s not hanging around your brother's house, he’s bumping into you at the local coffee shop you frequent when you’re in Detroit. If he’s at neither, he’s obviously at the games you attend in support of Dylan alongside Kenzy.

At Dylan’s, you barely speak to his teammates and friends beyond simple pleasantries. At your coffee shop, it starts at small talk but grows to be considerable conversations that dip just below surface level.

It’s at Little Caesars Arena where he really endears himself to you though. Warm ups are arguably your favorite part of the games you attend. You like to look out at the signs, from the heartwarming to the obscene—picking out your favorites and giggling about the latter with your sister in law.

Dylan’s always been really good about tossing kids pucks, and his big bleeding heart only grew larger when he got the red C strapped to his chest. Some of the other guys, even some of the so-called vets are less good about it.

JT’s just like Dylan, maybe even a little kinder hearted. He takes the time to read the signs that are meant for him, never turns down a trade for a puck and even gives a stick to a kid whose sign says he came all the way from Denver to watch him, his favorite player, play in Detroit.

It warms your heart.

So much so you don’t even notice you’re staring until Dylan’s slamming himself into the boards in front of you to startle his wife. She rolls her eyes and calls him a name not worth repeating while you try to pretend like you weren’t just fixated on his teammate.

The thing is Dylan has never outright said his teammates are off limits. Not since you were a teenager making eyes at his USNTDP teammates anyway.

The memory keeps you from looking JT’s way the rest of the warmups, but once the puck drops your eyes can’t help but wander.

Wandering appears to be your specialty, considering you’ve gotten yourself lost in the underbelly of the arena.

Your first mistake was leaving Ken’s side—she was your ferryman, guiding you down the River Styx, and without her, you were lost in Hell.

Were you overdramatic? Maybe. Were you lost with no hope of getting out? Still overdramatic, but definitely a possibility.

The walls begin to look the same, and you’re half worried you’ve accidentally fallen into a back room or something stupid when you stumble upon the one who caught your eye earlier.

‘Stumble upon’ is a gracious way of saying you absolutely smack into him and fall on your ass.

He hauls you up effortlessly with one hand and your skin burns beneath his grasp.

“What are you doing?” you both say in near unison before he laughs.

“I was getting my shoulder checked out, what are you doing all the way over here? Are you lost?”

Regardless of what he was doing, JT obviously has more of a reason to be found wandering the halls of the arena. And he’s right, you’re most definitely lost but you play it off like he’s crazy.

“Me? Lost? No, I know exactly where we are,” you bluff.

JT’s eyebrows raise and he nods slowly. “Which is…?”

Well, he’s called your bluff but he also gave you a key context clue. “Near the athletic trainer, obviously.”

He laughs again and it has your cheeks feeling hot.

“Okay fine, maybe I’m a little bit lost and maybe I was contemplating how I’d be trapped down here forever before you knocked me over.”

“I’m sorry, but you ran into me.” You roll your eyes and begin to argue, but he doesn’t let that happen. “Doesn’t matter, I can help you find your way out.”

You swoon dramatically, only half joking as you reply “My hero.”

Now that you’re no longer focused on navigating your way out of Pan’s Labyrinth, you’re free to focus on your close proximity to JT. Based on the way his eyes dart between meeting your own and staring at your lips, you assume he’s just as aware.

Is this not what you’ve been wanting since you knocked on Dylan’s door? But that’s part of the problem, and you’re sure JT is thinking the same. Not only is your brother his teammate—and you’ve always been off limits to your brother's teammates to your chagrin growing up—but he’s JT’s captain, too. There’s a million ways this thing could go wrong and blow up in both of your faces.

You could get caught, and be forced to sit with Dyl’s disappointment. You could hurt the one person in your life who consistently showed up for you and loved you and cared for you.

Not to mention you could risk it all for nothing—could crash and burn spectacularly as you were wont to do. Could fuck it all up with not only your brother, but JT too and be left with nothing. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d gone behind your brother’s back, but you had a sneaking suspicion things would be worse than they were when you were 15 to his 16.

Ultimately you decide fuck it, because what’s life without a little risk?

Tentatively, you slide your hand over the rough beard covering his jaw. When he doesn’t flinch or move away from you, you lean in closer.

He’s not pulling away, but he’s also not moving closer, letting you make the first move.

It’s probably a terrible fucking idea, but you’ve never been accused of being someone who makes good decisions when it comes to romantic partners.

The first press of your lips to his is cautious, barely a brushing of your mouths, just to get a taste. Quickly you become a woman obsessed. Unable to get enough, the kisses turn frenetic, bordering on sloppy.

He reciprocates in kind, his mouth hot and heavy on yours while his hands grasp and pull and hold. His very essence consumes you, taking over all of your five senses and pulling noises from you that you didn’t know existed.

If your arm burned from his grasp earlier, your entire body has caught fire.

You’re unaware or probably more accurately uncaring of your public nature, despite your earlier hesitance. Now you just want more and more and more of JT, as much as he is willing to give and maybe even a little more.

He seems to be on the same page, entire body wrapping around you and pulling you deeper and deeper.

Unconsciously your hands begin to pull at the waistband of his pants and it’s then that the two of you finally separate.

You’re worried you’re going to find regret in his eyes and excuses on his tongue, but he’s just looking at you intently.

“Not like this,” he says. “Not here.”

“I don’t want to wait,” you protest, but he shushes you with his mouth.

“It’ll be worth the wait.”

And worth the wait it is.

It's sexy at first. Clandestine meetings in dark hallways, sneaking in and out of JT’s apartment that’s on the same floor as Jake Walman’s, covert texts and quiet phone calls where you get off on the sound of each other's voices.

It doesn’t take long for you to want more, though. To fantasize about not just what his calloused hands can do to your body, but what it would be like to hold one in your own while walking down the street. To show up at a home game and have everyone know you were there to support not only your brother, but JT too.

It’s a fantasy that is only stoked by the comfort you feel walking around JT’s apartment in just his t-shirt with his number on the shoulder. By nights spent together at his dinner table, on his couch, in his bed. By sweet texts and stupid memes and random photos of things that made him think of you.

You don’t dare speak your desires out loud though. For fear of JT not wanting the same thing or for fear that he would, you’re not quite sure.

It’s a tough situation to be in. One where you’re worried you're heading to a fork in the road that has JT on one side and your brother on the other.

You have no delusions about the two paths eventually forging back together again, know that you’ve come dangerously close to that intersection marked with a big fat caution sign.

Probably you should speak to JT, get on the same page about where you’ve been and where you’re going. Following that, assuming he secretly yearns for the same thing you do, you should probably then come clean to Dylan.

Probably you should do a lot of things, but unfortunately what is done in the dark always comes to the light and sometimes it happens quicker than you can make your mind up.

A road win presumably has JT in a good mood. He’s texted you letting you know he’ll be home before midnight, requesting your presence in his bed.

It’s an easy yes, considering you’re already in the aforementioned bed. It’s nice to get out of Dylan’s house, of the suffocating feeling that you’re intruding in someone else’s home, on someone else’s life.

There’s really nothing particularly sexy about the way he finds you, but his eyes darken upon finding you curled up in his bed just the same. You’re not attempting to recreate a sexy pose from a boudoir photo shoot, and one of JT’s shirts and a pair of boy shorts aren’t exactly fancy lingerie.

That doesn’t stop him from dropping his bag dramatically and stripping from his dress shirt and pants.

“Awfully presumptuous,” you say as if the very fact that you’re in his bed in not much more clothing than he is.

He shrugs, “Not presuming anything. I’m fine if you just want to sleep, but I’m sure as shit not going to sleep in those dress pants. Bad enough I had to sit through a plane ride like that.”

His tone is teasing, but the implication that he would be just as fine falling asleep beside you as anything else pretty well takes all the fight out of you.

“C’mere,” you say instead of a catchy comeback, lifting the covers and inviting him into his own bed.

He wastes no time sliding in beside you and curling up around your body. “Hi.”

You snort and hide your face in his neck. “Corny.”

“I’ll show you corny,” he says, but you shush him by pulling his face closer to yours until your lips brush.

“Thought I was presumptuous,” he says upon breaking the kiss.

You roll your eyes—“Shut up.”—and kiss him again.

He doesn’t manage to keep his mouth shut, but at least this time it’s to slip his tongue into your mouth.

The temperature of the room rapidly increases—between the weight of his body covering your own and your body’s reaction to his fervid kiss, you feel the need to lose at least one item of clothing.

“I need—“

Luckily he quickly understands what you’re trying to accomplish by pulling at the hem of your shirt, lifting off of you long enough to assist in removing it from your body.

He makes a noise of appreciation at the bare skin revealed to him before diving back into your lips, this time with one hand cupping your right breast.

Appreciative noises of your own build in your throat when that hand slides down your body to dip into your underwear. It’s teasing touches at first, until you reciprocate by cupping him through his boxer-briefs.

Finally you both shed that last remaining layer, uncaring of where they end up in the bedroom. There’s a brief pause while he rolls on a condom and then he’s entering your body like it was made for him and him alone.

There’s no rush about his pace, just gentle thrusts and soft moans and sweet praises.

Sex with JT is so good, better than with anyone else you’ve ever been with. He’s the very opposite of a lazy, selfish lover. It’s like your needs and your pleasure come first, and you certainly do too.

The positioning of your bodies is so intimate, bodies close, mouths slotted over each other with intermingling breaths.

You worry you’re getting too caught up in that intimacy, possibly running in a direction not quite warranted and so you seek to depersonalize it a touch.

“Let me,” you say softly while gently pressing a hand against his shoulder, indicating you want him to lay on his back. He moves willingly, even helping you climb atop him.

It feels just as good with you on top, and the bit of distance between your upper halves means you can breathe a bit better.

It’s easy to get lost in the feeling, to tilt your head back and focus on your movements and the feel of his bruising grip on your hips.

Feeling the pressure build in your stomach, you slide a hand down your abdomen to where your bodies meet while the other grasps your breast just for something to hold on to. The added friction to your clit is pulling you closer and closer as you move on top of him.

He’s staring up at you with lust filled eyes, mouth open in a mix of awe and pleasure. A look of almost disbelief on his face. His hands are still on your hips, now helping the movement of your body on his when your body lights up like the fourth of July with your orgasm.

It’s hard to keep moving while in the throes of pleasure, but it’s like JT can read your mind, gripping your hips and thrusting up into you until he finishes too.

Your whole body tingles as you collapse on top of him, relishing in the feel of his arms wrapping around your body. Leisurely you kiss for a minute, until your heart rate returns to normal and you feel like you’re not likely to fall over when going to the bathroom to clean up.

When you return, you’ve slipped on one of his shirts once again. There's a soft look on his face as you crawl into bed beside him. It only cracks when you quietly whisper, “should we order pizza?”

“I think you’re the girl of my dreams,” he laughs.

The room is quiet, filled with only the sounds of your breathing and occasional kissing as you wait for the delivery.

Finally the doorbell rings. “I got it,” you tell JT and pull on a pair of discarded sweatpants before pulling the drawstring so they don’t fall.

You don’t bother to check the peephole, certain it’s your food which turns out to be a giant mistake.

Not only is it not your pizza, it’s also the last person you want to catch you with sex hair in oversized clothing that obviously belongs to the guy you’ve just had sex with.

Dylan’s mouth has dropped so far down it would be comical if it wasn’t also horrifying.

“Dylan I–” you start to explain yourself but pause midway through. How could you even begin to explain?

“I can’t believe this.” He shakes his head, hands curling at his side. “Actually no, I can’t believe this from JT, I can definitely believe this from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you snap.

Your brother laughs sardonically, “Well you’re not exactly known for making the right decisions when it comes to relationships.”

JT exits his room, no doubt lured by the loud voices and the lack of food. “Hey man, come on, let's talk about this like adults.”

“Like adults?” Dylan is incensed in a way you’ve never seen before. “Now you want to talk about things like adults? The time to talk was before you started sleeping with my sister behind my back.”

“I’m sorry you found out like this–” JT continues to try to defend himself, defend you while you stand there speechless.

Dylan interrupts, “Sorry I found out or sorry you got caught?”

JT goes to respond but Dylan cuts him off again. “I trusted you dude. I told you she was off limits, and not only did you ignore me, you went behind my back.” He then turns to you. “And you? My teammate? Seriously? You couldn’t have chosen literally any other douchebag to treat you wrong?”

That snaps you out of your stupor. “JT doesn’t treat me bad!”

A different kind of look crosses your older brother's face then. “Well when he does, don’t come running back to my house and crying to me.”

Dylan slams the door and you sit in the quiet of the room for a minute with your ears ringing.

The reality of the situation hits you.

“I can’t stay there, God not only am I a fuck up but I’m homeless too.”

“You can always stay here,” JT offers and it really bothers you that you can’t tell if he wants you to, or if he’s just offering because of his hand in the most recent blow up of your life.

“I’m pretty sure his baby sister shacking up with his teammate he doesn’t want her with isn’t exactly going to win me any favors with Dyl,” you reply.

“Well I’m pretty sure he’d rather you be here than living on the street.”

Ordinarily you think that would probably be true but the look on his face when you opened JT’s door is seared into your mind. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

In the end you do move your things into JT’s apartment. Kenzy is the accomplice to your crime, helping you pack your things while the team has practice, wrapping you in her arms and telling you that he just needs some time.

“He loves you,” she says.

You’re not so sure.

That’s probably overdramatic. You’re sure he loves you, and you sure hope he forgives you. You’re just worried that this time you’ve both done and said things you can’t take back and you’re not sure how things will move forward from here.

It’s not all bad though.

Living with JT is surprisingly easy, even right one might say. You fit directly into each other's lives like perfect puzzle pieces. His strict routines of practices and morning skates and games—both home and away—allow you the space to complete your own work on your own time. Cooking pregame meals together and curling up beside him when he takes his pregame naps quickly become some of your favorite activities.

You dance around the feelings talk, never quite broaching the subject. But it can’t feel this right if it’s all one sided, all in your head, right?

He’s even kind enough to let you drive his SUV even though the price tag makes you nervous every time you’re behind the wheel. You’re not a bad driver, as evidenced by the fact JT lets you drive the Audi, but you are possibly on this side of over cautious as a result of a bad car accident in high school.

Three home games after your fight with Dylan and approximately zero words or text messages exchanged between the two of you, you find yourself in the passenger seat.

“I could have taken the bus,” you protest weakly, almost knowing exactly what JT’s response will be.

“Over my dead body,” he laughs, eyes flickering over to you before focusing on the traffic in front of him. “Just pick me up after practice or text me if you’re still out and I’ll find a ride.”

“I’m not gonna leave you stranded at the arena, of course I’ll be there after you’re done.”

It’s oddly domestic, kissing JT across the console and then sliding into the driver’s seat that he vacates. You wait as he grabs his gear and walks away, you do really love watching him walk away.

The moment is cut short by catching a glimpse of your brother's vehicle. He’s not in it, obviously already inside the arena, but the sight of it makes your stomach clench all the same.

Thoughts of Dylan and his disappointment and worry that he’ll never forgive you flood your mind the entire drive. So much so that when the next light turns green, you let off the gas without realizing that there is a larger SUV running the red.

It all happens so fast. The screeching of tires, the crunching of metal, the pop of airbags going off and then a blinding pain in your wrist.

In the end, you’re pushed into the wrong lane of traffic, the other vehicle damn near in the passenger seat you occupied only fifteen minutes ago. There’s a distinct ringing in your ears and you offhandedly wonder if this is what it feels like to get boarded.

“Are you okay? I’m calling 911.” The words sound like they’re underwater, and it takes you several seconds to realize they’re being spoken to you. Turning your head to the side, you try to get the words out to say you’re fine, but you’re blocked by the airbag that has gone off near your head.

Emergency services come quickly, a perk of living in Detroit you suppose. Embarrassingly, it takes the jaws of life to peel off the driver's side door to get you out. A cop takes your statement and then you end up in the back of an ambulance. Despite your assurances that you’re fine, one raised eyebrow from the female paramedic and the idea that you’ve probably broken your wrist has you agreeing to the ER visit.

It’s then that someone asks you if there’s anyone you want to call. Heartbreakingly, your first thought is Dylan and your second thought is you’re not sure he’ll pick up.

Your third thought is JT and his SUV that you’ve probably totaled.

One of the paramedics helps you dial the equipment manager’s number, the one you were instructed to only ever use in case of emergencies. If ever there was a reason…

When he picks up the phone, you have to explain that you’ve gotten into a tiny fender bender and if you could please speak with JT and yes I mean JT not Dylan.

“Are you okay?” JT all but demands when he picks up the phone.

“I’m totally fine,” you fib, and then concede based on that same female paramedic once again raising an eyebrow. “Okay so I might have broken my wrist but–”

“Which hospital are you going to?” he interrupts.

You tell him, but try to say, “It’s okay you don’t have to–”

He interrupts again, “I’ll be right there.”

He hangs up quicker than you can ask how he’s going to get there without the car that you’ve wrecked.

True to his word, he’s sitting on a chair in your hospital room when you return from getting an x-ray. He stands abruptly upon your entrance and takes the three strides to stand in front of you before hesitating, like you’re made of glass.

You take matters into your own hands and slide your good arm around his back, careful to not jostle your injured wrist. There's a slight tremor to his body that you feel run through yours.

“I’m okay,” you say comfortingly, rubbing your good hand along his back before pausing. “Your car though….”

The tears are already starting to pool in your waterline as he pulls back.

His hands slide to cup your jaw as he speaks seriously, “I don’t give a damn about the car. It can be replaced, you can’t.” A tear slips out before you can stop it and he brushes it away with his thumb before kissing you softly. “I care about you. So much. And that phone call scared the shit out of me.”

Despite the less than stellar background and circumstances, his words have your heart leaping in your chest. “I really care about you too,” you whisper and kiss him again.

“Where is she?” you hear coming down the hall and it occurs to you that your brother is still your emergency contact.

“Did you tell him?” you ask JT who promptly shakes his head.

You don’t even have time to step back from JT’s embrace before Dylan comes crashing into the room. JT wisely pulls away and gives Dylan the space to place his hands on your shoulders and scan for any signs of injury.

“I’m okay,” you reassure him but the words feel hollow considering they’re the first you’ve said to him in more than a week. “Broken wrist they’re gonna cast and probably a concussion. Can’t say the same for the car.”

Eerily similar to JT, Dylan replies, “Cars can be replaced–”

“But I can’t,” you say in unison with him. “I know, JT said the same thing.”

It’s like Dylan remembers his teammate then, eyes sliding over to where JT stands and then back down to your slowly purpling wrist.

The room is silent except for the sounds of medical equipment and the faint sounds occurring outside the door.

“I’m sorry,” you say in unison with your brother again.

“No, I'm sorry,” he says first. “I’m your big brother and I’ve seen you get your heart broken too many times. I’m always going to worry about you but I was out of line.”

“I’m sorry we went behind your backs and I’m sorry you found out that way. We should have just talked to you, I should have just talked to you.”

“Truce?” he asks, like you’re 10 and 11 again, fighting over something silly and trivial.

“Truce,” you confirm, hissing when you knock your broken wrist as you pull him in for a hug.

Later, when you’ve gotten over the guilt of totaling JT’s barely used Audi and the cast on your wrist is long gone, it’ll be a fun story to tell at parties. About how it took an idiot running a red light for you to define your relationship with JT and to reconcile with your brother.

#nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #nhl x reader #jt compher fic #shelb writes

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