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sutorus · 7 months

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✰ HC: BEING IN A SITUATIONSHIP WITH THE JJK F*CKBOYS

DESCRIPTION: my hcs on what it’d be like to be in a situationship/fwb situation with the jjk men hehe

FEATURED: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem + afab reader, this is fully self indulgent i'm just taking my own shiddy experiences and coping via hot anime men, suggestive content/smut, pretty standard manwhore behavior, slightly toxic, not wholesome, kinda crack tbh, some mentions of degradation as a kink, objectifying women, just like the real thing lol!

A/N: LONG BUT READ! this will Not have an ending where you get together at least not rn these are just my hcs all in good fun ur just having fun ok ur not heartbroken everything is okay. they are not good boys here they are normal regular boys

GOJO SATORU

has way too many hoes. way too many

so much so that he gave up on remembering their names and just saves their numbers like “osaka w the hand kink”, “big tits shibari”, “slut from trig”, “hostess best bjs”

has someone’s boobs with his name written on them in sharpie as his wallpaper

says i love you when he cums inside and you never know if you should believe it

throws you off when he agrees to meet your friends only for him to flirt with them in front of you

takes you to the best clubs with bottle service, lets the girls sit on his lap and laughs when you get mad

pays for your ubers everywhere every time

into the weirdest shit like wearing your underwear laughing like a lunatic the whole time he’s fucking you then after he cums gets sulky and embarrassed

lays it on thick with the pet names, gives zero fucks if that confuses you even further

very public with you and it makes you wonder how many other girls put themselves through this humiliation just for the d

gets jealous about you being with other people and needs to prove himself by eating it from the back or something

fwb with gojo is just a huge mindfuck honestly he doesn’t take anything seriously and this is no different sorry! it’s fun tho!

GETO SUGURU

keeps it extremely platonic because he likes to tell himself he has a conscience

too busy for regular chit chat ignores your texts all day then hits you up when he wants to fuck

even more of a whore than gojo is which is why he makes sure not to lead anyone on he just does not need the trouble

answers all your personal questions about him with one word answers

he lets you choose the movie for netflix and chill at least! but will never remember it or the fact that it’s your favorite :(

cleans you up after sex and brings you water

has female hygiene products in his bathroom which is both a red and a green flag

lets you stay after sex and you just lay there on his bed watching him do stuff on his computer but he will not be talking to you

never calls you baby or anything when he’s fucking you just goes oh fuck yeah right there fuuuuck your pussy

genuinely respects you and has nice decent sex with you unless you tell him that you’re kinky

in which case he fucks you just how you want it and gets off on how turned on you are

not one of those guys who gets jealous of sex toys and holds the wand on your clit for you

likes to make you cum over and over and over again

fwb with geto makes your heart clench because he’s just such a gentleman but you got way too much competition to even think about it

NANAMI KENTO

a professional in every sense of the word

uses sex as stress relief

thinks he's too old for this shit but you make him feel alive so he fucks you like he can empty all of his frustrations into you

invites you to his apartment serves you expensive liquor and lets you initiate things most times unless he’s too pent up

can actually have very nice conversations with you

never has the “what are we talk” because he makes it clear he’s too busy for a relationship

lets you spend the night if it’s too late but solely for your safety/logistics

does your taxes for you but will not call you anything beyond an “acquaintance”

texts you happy holidays but does not know when your birthday is

gets tested consistently even though he’s not fucking anyone else and always uses a condom unless you beg him not to

eats you out because he thinks it’s relaxing and spends hours prepping you

the sexual tension is soooo thick when you two fuck all you can hear is grunts and growls and moans and wet slapping sounds and it’s so hot

has some random turn ons like gets bricked up when you’re wearing lipstick or stockings

fwb with nanami is very enjoyable and easy it’ll get complicated if you develop feelings because he does not want to date but who cares yolo am i right

FUSHIGURO TOJI

broke ass deadbeat dad why are you into him

absolutely nasty sex

you know if he had a girlfriend he’d respect her too much to do the things he does to you

dick game so bomb that you’re scared he’s gonna give you a child even when he’s wearing a condom

wants to fuck you every way he possibly can on every fuckable surface with zero regard for your physical integrity

eats his cum right out of you

ego is so big, grins so wide and fucks you so hard when you stroke his muscles

loves to eat pussy but only after he’s fucked you because he likes it tight and hot with minimal prep

doesn’t follow you on any social media but jerks off to your instagram pics

has like 3 different phone numbers and you don’t know why

has only let you come over once, didn’t let you shower after

no pet names but calls you a dirty whore and other degrading shit

loves it if you cry on his dick

doesn’t give a fuck about your safety sorry you’re on your own

has never told you his last name

one time you asked to see a picture of his son and he didn’t speak for 3 whole minutes

fwb with toji is the nastiest sex you’ve ever had truly it’s just sinful and everyone’s dark hidden fantasy half of it you couldn’t tell your closest friends because it’s just too much

a/n sorry

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hyomaslut · 9 months

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──★ ˙🌟 ̟ !! gold star redemption program. 18+!

☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ ʙʟᴜᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴋ's ғᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇʀ

✿ ─ synopsis: you are the new manager for team blue lock and you have a great idea to make the players get along better. after all, positive reinforcement worked really well on dogs, why not men? ✿ ─ characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, shidou ryusei, itoshi rin, chigiri hyoma + kunigami rensuke referenced ✿ ─ cw: smut, fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, aged-up!characters(18+), pet names, kissing, penetrative sex, oral receiving/giving, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, overstimulation, rough sex, deepthroating/face-fucking, non-exclusive relationships, lots of jealousy, pda, use of foul language, suggestive themes, shidou is an asshole, rin threatens murder, somewhat proofread ✿ ─ notes: okay so every is going to ignore the logistics and mental gymnastics done to put all these guys on the same team and have any of this go on, right? cool. this work was requested by @anastasiablossomlove pls enjoy!

managing team blue lock was no task for a person of average conviction. anyone with less of a spine would be easily trampled and consumed by the members, all with big personalities and even bigger egos. you took to the role with exceptional organizational skills and a positive attitude that didn’t falter, even under the cold glares of the less compliant men of the team (cough cough itoshi rin cough cough barou shouei). before the end of your first week you had drafted up detailed and individualized meal plans, unique to each of them. by the second you had worked with the coach to create special training regimes that works towards their fitness goals while providing challenge and variety. right under their noses you dug your pretty fingers into every part of team blue lock, finding every issue and soothing every conflict, turning a group of somewhat wild animals into a well functioning machine with you at its core.

and not a detail slipped your eye. you could always tell when kunigami had pushed himself too hard in the gym by the stiffness in his shoulders. honestly you doubt you would’ve been able to convince him to let you help him if he wasn’t just as sore as you predicted. but the minute your palms were pressing into his back he was groaning in relief, “you’re an angel” grumbled under his breath. he’s a bit less embarrassed the next time around, blushing while asking you to fix him like you did last time.

you quickly took responsibility for doing chigiri’s hair before every practice and game. after seeing it fall out of its style and flap wildly in his face whenever he reached top speed on the field, you decided he needed something a little more reliable to keep it out the way so his eyes could stay on the ball. though when his hair was this soft, who could blame you for taking a bit longer than necessary, brushing through the knots and gently scratching at his scalp. plus, he didn’t seem to mind all that much, always red faced and all smiles, leaning into your touch. the thank you kiss he plants on your cheek lingers long enough to leave a matching blush on your face as a token of his appreciation.

being the backbone of their system earned you respect, acknowledgement, even affection from the overly friendly members of the team (cough cough bachira meguru cough cough shidou ryusei). no one could deny the benefits of having you around, always offering all kinds of helpful advice and showed not a shred of judgment when listening to their problems. and you weren’t exactly ignorant to the fact that your constant support was causing some of your new friends to become especially attached to you. maybe to someone else it would be a bigger concern, but in your eyes, this was only another opportunity to do more for your team.

that’s why you implemented the gold star redemption program to help motivate them. it was quite simple to follow, you had a chart with all of their names along with cute, slightly wonky doodles of them, and a list of ways to earn gold stars. from goals and assists to being on good behavior, whatever way they earn their stars, team members can then cash them in for certain prizes from you. the list had looked something like this…

2 ☆ = snack or drink of your choice 4 ☆ = a home cooked meal 5 ☆ = a kiss <3 7 ☆ = a massage <33 10 ☆ = private training session <333

the objective was to give incentives towards cooperation. not to mention, it’s always good to strengthen bonds with your team members. it seems, however, that you underestimated how much of your time this new system would take up. or maybe you just overestimated how easy it would be to keep up with the greedy desires of so many egoists at once.

ever since your arrival, anyone with eyes could see that isagi yoichi carried a torch for you. you let him talk your ear off for hours about tactics and players, never tired of his company or too busy for his rambles. it gets his heart thumping obnoxiously loud in his chest. so yoichi makes it his objective to dote on you as much as possible to try to make up for all the time you spend fussing over everybody else. always staying after practice to help you or walking you home. so when you start handing out stars for that kind of stuff, isagi is already making a steady income. he considers himself a gentleman, so at first he spends his stars on meals. and he’s more than happy to eat your cooking, stirring up all kinds of wifey fantasies in his head and enjoying his lunches with you. but at night, when he’s lying in bed, the big ticket item at the bottom of the prize board haunts him. and when he can’t take it anymore, he slips into your tiny little office that you share with the coach, a self-satisfied smile on his face when he lets you know that he just finished the stat sheets you asked him to fill out, earning him his tenth gold star. enough for one private training session.

in all the times you thought about sex with isagi, you’re not sure you ever pictured it to be like this. bent over your own desk, tennis skirt bunched up around your waist, your star player too eager to sink into your pussy to even push down your underwear. they stayed tugged to the side, thoroughly soaked from the way his hips meet yours in sloppy desperate thrusts. “i knew i needed to fuck you when i saw this skirt,” he confesses, eyes fixed to the point where you connect, mesmerized by the way his cock disappears inside you, “you’ve been tempting me all day, so be a good girl and take my cock, okay?” before you can respond he hooks a finger into the elastic of your panties to let it snap back against your skin, drawing a small yelp from you. he changs the angle to fuck you harder, deeper. you wonder if this could be the same sweet yoichi that carries your things and bashfully tells you your outfit looks good.

apparently that yoichi doesn’t exist once he’s balls deep inside you, all that’s left is the side of him you’ve only caught glimpses of when he’s dominating his opponents on the field. and if you thought that it was a chance encounter, you’re sorely mistaken as week after week isagi makes sure he earns his ten stars and you get to know just how mean he can be. his grip is always tight around your hair, whether it’s pulling and steering you into the position he wants or guiding your head down to take more of his dick. god forbid he asks you nicely for something like he always does when you’re not ‘training’. one time you even had the gall to suggest the idea to him and lived to regret it as now if you want anything from him, isagi is only accepting the most convincing of your begs. “c'mon princess, mind your manners, if you wanna cum then you’re gonna have to ask really nicely.” and no teary eyed puppy dog look will get you what you want, even when he makes getting your words out so difficult. truthfully, he never intends to be so hard on you, but having you crying and begging for his cock is the only way to soothe the devil on his shoulder that tries to tell him to take you for himself. in the aftermath, you start to recognize your yoichi again, sheepish in his apologies for how rough he was with you, kissing away the tears that run down your face. he’s lucky you’re too fucked out to charge him for them.

there’s not a world where you offer bachira meguru sexual favors in exchange for playing soccer and he says no. he was already gonna do that anyway, and now not only does he get to make even more of a game out of it, but his reward for winning is the cute little manager he’s had his eyes on for far too long? consider him sold. bachira knows it would be most fun for him to save up and have sex with you as soon as possible, but all of a sudden he has five and he’s itching for a kiss. one he decides to give you right before practice starts… in front of the whole team. but can you blame him? he’s already been waiting forever to feel those pretty glossed lips on his, you couldn’t really expect him to make it through the next few hours when he’s so close to getting what he wants. and you could maybe understand that, but was it really necessary to go for a full open-mouthed wet almost make out that left you panting when everyone’s eyes were already on you? you suspect not, but bachira doubles down, telling you it was of upmost importance that he got it in, else he wouldn’t be able to focus. he neglects to tell you that he overheard reo in the locker room talking about what he was gonna do now that he had five stars. shidou already made it very clear that he would be first to ten, so bachira had to be crafty in order to secure at least one first from you.

meguru was certainly one of the more needy players, right under nagi that required some form of encouragement every step of the way to get anything done. bachira usually does what you tell him to, but not without whining about deserving a prize for being good. quite frankly, you dread having to ask anything of him, because he is determined to be fully compensated for even the smallest of requests. even a task as easy as grabbing something on a high shelf was met with a cheeky smirk and a request for a kiss. and don’t think he’ll budge either, holding the item hostage if he thinks he can squeeze two out of you. it didn’t make it any easier that bachira didn’t possess a shy bone in his whole body, openly showering you in affection when the others were around, holding your hand and nuzzling his face into your collar. it was enough to make even a professional like you blush. he acted as if he was oblivious to the jealous stares of his friends, but the smug cat-like smirk he sends them and the way he only holds you tighter when you try to shyly brush him off gives him away. it may come as a surprise considering his reputation for being a bit delusional, but bachira tries to root himself in reality for once. he frequently reminds himself of the nature of your relationship and tries his best not let his imagination run wild with anything that would be beyond the boundaries you’ve clearly set. things like picturing himself taking you on dates, coming home to you at night, introducing you to his mom. they were all too dangerous to let his mind settle on them for too long.

and what better distraction than burying his face between your thighs. it’s hard to think of much when he hasn’t bothered to stop lapping at your cunt long enough to take a breath in a couple minutes. suffocating was the least of his concerns when the clench around his fingers lets him know your orgasm is just around the corner. meguru swears that your pathetic little whimpers and the slick dripping down his chin are like a straight hit of dopamine to his brain and he’s at real risk of addiction at this point. lidded amber eyes travel up to watch your expression twist into one of pleasure as you gasp out his name. now that catches his interest. when your vision clears and your brain is functioning again after that intense high, you search for his comfort as if you had done any of the hard work. but all you’re met with is that signature wild look that he gets when he brushing past the enemy team’s defense straight towards his goal. it’s your only warning that he’s far from tired and even farther from sated. “if i can keep going, so can you baby. i know you have more for me. jus’ need t’see you make that face one more time.” you have no room to protest, his tongue already finding your clit and working towards bringing you to the edge once again. by your fourth time cumming, you’re sobbing for a break and debating whether you should charge him four times over or give him a star for each one.

someone who was on board with your system from the second that you explained how it worked, was shidou ryusei. what better way to celebrate another one of his blood pumping, heart stopping performances than racing to the locker room to blow a load in his favorite girl while his teammates debrief with the coach? to him it was simple, you fuck him, you feed him, you take care of him, you spend time with him. shidou is, by all of his definitions, dating you. while some might be turned off by the idea of dating someone who isn’t offering exclusivity, he didn’t see it as much of an obstacle. not when he spent star stickers like a gambler on a slot machine, having you multiple times a week if the economy allowed it. and if he’s short a few, no worries, ryusei is quite the negotiator. it starts one week when he’s only missing a star or two, promising he’ll pay back the difference, you know he’s a good customer. it’s probably not a good idea to give in to him though, as the next time he wants a private training session, he’ll insist they’re only nine stars for him. he has made all kinds of fake coupons from 50% Off! to Buy One Get One Free! to even a homemade punch card in his own terrible handwriting. shidou was the first one to ever get a star taken away when he tried to give you an arby’s gift card in exchange for a blowjob. he didn’t try that tactic again.

the worst is when he tries to haggle in the middle of sex. your legs are thrown over his shoulders and his tip is kissing your cervix when he chooses to whine about not being able to kiss you because he has no stars left. he worked too hard to get good star credit, he can’t go into star debt!! “ and with his lips just hovering over yours, his hot breath fanning across your face, how could you say no? in a moment of weakness, you have unfortunately given an inch to shidou, infamous mile taker, and now it’s hard to get him to pay for any of his kisses, especially while he’s fucking you. you thank god that at the very least no one knows he’s been getting them for free… if only shidou would allow your life to be that easy. even worse than giving him an inch, you expected shidou to keep a secret. and you thought his big mouth was something you liked about him. until he’s using it to brag to everyone that he’s your favorite, practically your boyfriend, all because you let him get away with a smooch here and there. let’s just say you had to give out a lot of free kisses to smooth over the problem his bragging habits created.

honestly ryusei was starting to cause a lot of confusion outside of the team with his antics. what with his always hanging off your arm, giving you as much affection as you’d tolerate, calling you sweet nicknames. the people in your life were actually starting to believe you two were dating. not that shidou does anything to discourage such rumors, only grinning and agreeing every time someone mistakes you as a couple. hell, he was starting to get you confused, saying things during your training sessions that certainly didn’t fit the transactional nature of the act. “holy shit you’re so tight- love this pussy, l-love you so much. say my name. c’mon baby, say you love me and i’ll make you feel so fucking good.” and only because ryusei always makes good on his promises do you allow yourself another moment of weakness.

itoshi rin didn’t have much interest or faith in you upon first introduction. he sized you up as some nobody doing this whole manager thing as a fun extracurricular, so as long as you stayed out of his way he didn’t care what you did. with his luck, he shouldn’t be surprised that you were immediately in his way, extremely often, rambling to him about ideas and strategies that he had no intention on listening to. although even he could admit, he understood why the others were so easily charmed by you. he was wrong about how seriously you took your job. not that it changed anything. at least that’s what rin tells himself, but in reality your relentless efforts and endless dedication to supporting all of them was something that spoke to him, made him a bit soft for you. it didn’t help that you were his type in every sense of the word, your attractiveness doing nothing but make feigning indifference a lot harder for rin. your seemingly endless patience didn’t help either. you always responded in kind to all of rin’s harsh words and cold stares, never let his sour attitude deter your subtle acts of service like getting grass stains out of his uniform and making sure he stays unbothered during his yoga. against his will, he was slowly warming up to you, but you were still caught off guard when rin started cashing in his stars, even if it was just a meal. he had lots of them sitting idle on the chart waiting to be used, so you supposed it was only natural for him to get some free food out of it. but you were even more taken aback when a couple days later he requested a massage from you with insistence that he only asks because he’s been extremely tense as of late. which wasn’t entirely untrue. rin had been very tense. just not from anything soccer related like he’d like you to believe. he was tense from the stress of his budding feelings for you combined with the dread of knowing he probably will never have you all to himself. at least not with this stupid reward system in place.

he despises it. he absolutely hates going about his day knowing there are other guys, his shithead teammates, that are getting your time, attention, and affection for the price of a couple of stupid fucking stickers. he misses the days when shidou’s incessant bragging about how many times he was able to make you cum or bachira’s unnecessary details of what your pussy tastes like didn’t bother him. now his blood boils to hear them talk about you like that. that kind of anger makes it clear to him that being your friend was simply not an option anymore. which is how he settled on getting a massage from you. he would satisfy this overwhelming craving he has for you and go back to normal and be able to focus solely on becoming best in the world again without thoughts of you plaguing his mind. that was his hope going into it, but feeling your warm touch on his bare back, melting away years of untreated knots and neglected aches in his body, he could almost blush at the intimacy he feels. especially when that foreign kindness he loves so much is on display as you reassure him that there’s nothing to be embarrassed about and that you’re proud he finally put his pride aside long enough to let you help him. you’ve got him, hook, line, and sinker now. no use in struggling so hard, he supposes, as some part of him knows he’s doomed to fall sooner or later. perhaps it’s time to surrender. he fought a good fight, but his greed for you was candidly too tough of an opponent.

and to rin, surrender looked like asking you when’s the soonest he could book a private training session. you don’t think you could look any more shocked. rin had a quick turn around from someone you doubted even liked you, to someone reserving as much of your time as his stars could buy. the more often he was with you, the less time you spent giving those lukewarm brats the treatment he wants reserved for him. and he wishes he gave in a lot sooner when he feels the wet heat of your mouth around his cock for the first time. how fast he would’ve folded if he knew how pretty you would look on your knees for him. rin tried to be gentle and let you set the pace, but between hissing out curses and barely biting back moans, that same greed to get more from you has his hand twisting itself in your hair and pushing down on the back of your head. he couldn’t help it. and it was so worth it to watch you choke and sputter around his length but never pull away. he knew you weren’t a quitter. “shit, feels good… don’t stop,” he all but gasps, hips instinctively jumping to reach further down your throat, grip tightening when you try to come up for air. after a long moment of breathing through your nose you relax enough to let him ease himself the rest of the way in. rin sighs in relief when your nose finally presses against his pelvis. the way you look up at him starry-eyed and full of adoration made his chest feel heavy with desire to be the only one you ever look at. it drives him crazy that any guy on the team can see you like this, and that heartache has rin fucking your face to forget it. “fuckkk. don’t look away, eyes on me, g’nna cum in that pretty mouth.”

you couldn’t deny that your new attempt at encouraging the team had its kinks. while overall the amount of arguments that broke out between players lessened to keep on good star-earning behavior, you could tell that it came with its own set of tension creating problems. you also couldn’t deny that being pulled in every direction by men vying for your attention was both very time consuming and extremely gratifying, but you think you manage it well. save for when they were already pumped up with adrenaline from a game, that is when real issues arise. especially when a player from the enemy team thinks it’s a good idea to try and hit on the cute little lady holding the clipboard. fatal mistake.

it starts with your favorite pot stirrer, bachira, calling out from his position, making everyone else on the team aware of the situation. “no shot dude, she don’t want you! focus on losing!” you’re confident you can diffuse whatever is about to go down before you notice rin leaving the ball alone in centerfield to beeline straight towards you. threats are flying from his lips on approach, quick to get in the guy’s face, planting his hands on his shoulders to shove him back. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing? i’ll kill you if you don’t get the fuck away from her.” you think maybe you have a shot of getting rin under control if you just- your eyes widen in horror as a flash moves in from your peripheral. there are no words, just shidou drop kicking this poor stranger at top speed. you cringe as you watch shidou knocks this guy off his feet, cleats first, taking rin down with him. what a way to earn a red card.

this was a fun project and request tysm!!! i just went about it in the interpretation i found most interesting, i really hope it was to your liking!!!

#divider credit to @cafekitsune #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk smut #blue lock #bllk #isagi yoichi x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi smut #isagi yoichi smut #bachira x reader #bachira meguru x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryuusei smut #shidou smut #chigiri x reader #kunigami x reader #miwa sins

4K notes · View notes

writingmingyu · 4 months

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Put a Shirt On, Kim Mingyu

Pairings: FuckBoy!Mingyu x afab!reader Summary: Your fwb Mingyu sent you a message and you can't ignore it Genre: College AU, Smut, Minors DNI Warnings: Protected sex - use of a condom, reader is a little mean and a little selfish Word count: ~1.9k

Author’s Note: Happy New Year! I saw this photo and I had an idea (I mean who didn't look at this photo and have ideas 😈) This was fun and something new, we always talk about taking clothes off this man but when do we ever put them back on??? And so it escalated from there.

I hope you enjoy as always ^_^

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

*1 new message*

You reach over to your nightstand to check the message.

It is an image of Mingyu, your fuck buddy. It is cropped so you can only see his bare shoulders in the mirror selfie. You up? The caption says.

You roll your eyes. As much as you like hooking up with Mingyu, sometimes he could be a complete douchebag. This was why you were only fuck buddies and you hadn’t taken the relationship any further. Sometimes you thought he could be the kind of guy you wouldn’t be embarrassed to bring home to your family, other times he did shit like this.

No, put a shirt on and go to bed. You reply. Refusing to look at the image he had sent. He had annoyed you by saying something dumb the previous day so you were not going to appease him by coming over right now.

A few minutes go by and there’s no response, usually Mingyu would take the bait and keep up the banter but there was nothing. So you take another peek at the photo.

It was slightly blurry and he had cropped it in such a way that you couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing with his other hand…you had a rule with him - no dick pics. But that didn’t mean he didn’t send you ones implying his dick was out.

For example, in this image, you could imagine him just standing there, naked in front of the mirror, holding his cock proudly. What an asshole.

But still, you couldn’t help but linger on the photo. Picturing the muscles he’d concealed from the photo, how large his arms were and the feel of them as they were tensed as he fucked you senseless. His large body encompassed you completely as he provided you with numerous orgasms.

Great, now you were horny. You hadn’t even been thinking about Mingyu since he pissed you off. But he knew exactly what he was doing sending you a photo like this.

You put the phone down. Determined not to give in and take matters into your own hands.

Settling into your bed, and pulling out your favourite vibrator, you are ready to begin but a new text flashes up on your phone from Mingyu and makes you curious.

Make me.

Make me. As if those words ever lead to anything but badness.

You put away your toy and reached for some sweatpants, it was time to pay Mingyu a visit.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“Y/N, what a surprise,” Mingyu said when he opened the door, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Shut up,” you respond, pushing your way into his dorm room and heading towards his drawers.

“You know that’s not where I keep the condoms.” He says casually, closing the door.

“I know,” you open the first drawer and pick out a t-shirt. “Sit down.”

Mingyu is confused but he sits on the edge of his bed anyway, enjoying the bossy tone you were using.

You close the drawer and turn to finally take in the sight of him. He was still shirtless, wearing a pair of boxers, presumably thrown on to have a little modesty while opening the door. You let your eyes soak in the view that his cropped photo denied you, if only because you were about to cover it up.

“What game are we playing today?” he asks as you walk over and straddle his lap.

“It’s not a game,” you say, grinding your core down against the bulge in his boxers as you scrunch the shirt up in your hands, “you said to make you put a shirt on, so I am. Put your arms up.”

Mingyu lets out a laugh but does what he’s told. You hadn’t really considered the logistics of this, as when Mingyu raised his arms, it was slightly out of your reach to put the shirt on. But you weren’t going to give up.

You raised yourself up, purposely brushing your whole body against Mingyu’s as your fingertips brushed against his wrists trying to get the t shirt over his hands.

Seeing your struggle, Mingyu lowers his arms a little, allowing you the reach to pull the t shirt down over his arms, you move down his body slowly, stopping to make sure the shirt goes over his head before bringing the rest of the material down over his torso.

“There,” you say when you’re finished.

“Happy?” There’s a small smile playing on his lips.

“Yes,” You shift your hips towards him, his cock pulsing against your core.

“I’m sure you could be happier,” his hands reach for your hips to grind you down against his length again.

You let out an involuntary moan before taking Mingyu’s hands from your hips and placing them on the bed. “Don’t touch me, I’m still annoyed at you.”

“I know, but you came over, so you can’t be that annoyed right?”

“Maybe I’m just horny,”

“Join the club,”

You both sit staring at each other for a few seconds, it wouldn’t be the first time you had taken your frustrations out using Mingyu. But this would be the first time you would be using him to work out the frustration you had against him. And you didn’t think he deserved the pleasure.

“Take your boxers off,” you stand up heading to his bedside drawer to grab a condom.

You return to stand in front of Mingyu and he has done as you asked. He’s still sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands, his cock standing proud against his clothed stomach.

You open the condom and roll it over his cock. “Wipe that smile off your face,” you say as you straighten to pull your bottoms off. “This is for me,”

“Sorry,” he replies trying to keep his face neutral, but he was enjoying your bossy side a lot. You usually didn’t complain too much when he took charge of your hookups, in fact, you preferred it because you didn’t have to think too much. The only time you were vocal is when Mingyu was first learning the best way to make you cum, but he was a fast learner.

“And if you cum before me,” you moan as you sink down onto his cock. “I won’t speak to you for two weeks. And that’s no fun for anyone.”

“It’s not,” he agrees, breathing heavily as you begin to ride him. “If I’m good will you forgive me?”

“We’ll see,” you use Mingyu’s shoulders to keep yourself stable as you move your hips in a steady rhythm, making sure the tip of his cock hits your favourite spot every time.

Mingyu does as he’s told and doesn’t interact, he just watches as you take your pleasure from him, trying not to think too hard about how hot you look and how the sensation of your walls clenching around him is driving him crazy. He loved when you were on top, taking charge with your tits bouncing in his face. It’s a shame he couldn’t see them in their full glory, as you had opted to keep your shirt on, but that was probably helping him in his quest to keep it together until you got your release.

It doesn’t take long before you feel your orgasm building, you reach down to stimulate your clit, your other hand digging into Mingyu’s shoulder as the pressure builds. You had never left a mark on him before, that was one of his rules but this time you think you might have pierced his skin through the material of his shirt, but you didn’t care.

“F-fuck Gyu, your cock always feels so good,” you whine as you get closer to the edge, looking down at him. His body tenses as he tries to hold off his own orgasm, the material of his shirt stretched to its limits due to his ridiculous size.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he sighs, closing his eyes, as you bounce faster on his lap.

“Look at me,” you demand, “watch me cum.”

Reluctantly, Mingyu reopens his eyes. His hips involuntarily bucking into you and sending you over the edge. You moan out his name as you cum, one hand still rubbing your clit as you ride out your high. The stimulation and the sight of you proving to be too much, Mingyu cums too, he curses under his breath as his cock pulses within your walls.

Neither of you say anything as you wait for your breathing to return to normal, Mingyu lies flat on his back and you rest your hands on his chest, enjoying the feel of his muscles rising and falling as he breathes. Part of you wants to lay on top of him because his torso always looks so inviting but it would be too intimate so you stay upright.

“Is all forgiven?” Mingyu asks as he sits up, removing the condom after you stand.

“I guess so,” you reach for your discarded clothes. Turns out that taking your frustration out on Mingyu was just what you needed. And you couldn't be sure, but you think he liked that you were a little mean to him.

“So you’ll come over tomorrow night?” He had a wicked grin on his face that caused your stomach to flip.

“No, I don’t think you deserve that.” You say turning your back to him and reaching for the door. Trying to stay composed before you ended up staying longer.

“I'll come to you then,”

You roll your eyes. “I think you've done enough coming recently don't you?”

“It was still after you!”

You laugh despite yourself, “That's true you did hold off. Proud of you.”

“Thanks, it was tough. Ya know, you're really hot when you're mean.”

“Aww does baby have a kink?” You had turned around again and were leaning against the door.

“Shut up,” Mingyu blushes and comes to stand next to you. “I thought we didn't kink shame.”

“And I thought you liked it when I was mean,”

“Touché,” he leans down to kiss you on the cheek. That was another rule, you didn't kiss on the lips. It was silly but somehow it helped you remind yourself that Mingyu wasn't your boyfriend. Yet when he kissed you on the cheek it was the most intimate gesture in the world. “Thanks for coming over,”

“It's not like I wanted to. But you know I can't ignore a challenge.”

“Hmm I don't know seemed like you really wanted it.” He smiled.

“Whatever,” you push him away so you can open the door. It was late and you wanted to go to sleep. “I'll text you?”

“Sounds good,”

“Also if you ever send me another photo like that again I will have to block you. It's full torso or fully clothed. Got it?”

“Got it,”

It’s only a minute later when you get another photo through from Mingyu. This time, it’s a photo of his chest, still covered by the t shirt you had just put on him. My new favourite shirt. He captioned the photo.

You rolled your eyes before leaving him on read. It was taking all your strength not to go back there and get him to wipe the smug grin off his face and rip his shirt while you were at it. But maybe you could revisit the idea when he inevitably came over tomorrow night…

#Mingyu Smut #Mingyu x Reader #SVTHub #WritingMingyu #Kim Mingyu #SVT Fanfic #SVT Smut #College AU #Mingyu #SVT #FWB #x Reader #Fanfic #Mingyu Fanfic

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charliemwrites · 4 months

Text

A Thought™️ that I had last night and shared in the Discord server, that I’m now going to share here more fleshed out.

CW for implied/mentioned dubcon, kidnapping, unhealthy relationship dynamics, objectification, and reader anxiety. Oh and Simon being Mean.

You belong to Johnny — one of his toys, essentially. Like a cock ring or a vibrator but better because you also serve as a little companion pet. Someone that Simon got for Johnny to pour all that overflowing love and tenderness into when he just… can’t handle it. When he starts wanting to hurt Johnny in Very Bad ways past the lines they already walk, only because Johnny wants to dote on him.

So Simon got you as a gift for Johnny.

And he gets to dote on you, chatter to you, soothe you, fuck you. It’s a weird “relationship” you two have. Johnny pouring so much into you while you awkwardly try to reciprocate and tolerate. A bit like a child’s beloved long-suffering pet. Simon lets Johnny drag you everywhere, dress you up, babble on about you. Put in all that attention and energy when Simon is needed (or simply just focused) elsewhere. Johnny’s happy as a peach, Simon gets a bit of a break, and you’re a soft-spined thing that’s stopped crying and whining for the most part so wins all around.

You and Simon’s relationship is nonexistent. Just a matter of logistics. You’re one of Johnny’s toys that Simon got for him, end of. You interact with him only so far as 1, following the rules of captivity; 2, keeping Johnny happy; and 3, being used as a reward or punishment to be given or taken away.

And the two of you are respectively fine with that. You follow Johnny around, speak almost solely to or through him. Are not acknowledged by Simon unless Johnny’s showing you off.

Until Johnny is gone for a Period of Time. A mission, most likely.

While he’s away, you treat it as a sort of vacation and just avoid Simon, don’t even ask when Johnny will be back. Until one day you’re going about your business, kind of bebopping along in your own little world. And almost run directly into Simon.

Blink in surprise, hurriedly skirt around him, pulse skipping. “Excuse me,” you say, soft and melodic (a voice you specifically use to soothe and neutralize) and then pad away quickly.

It flips something in Simon’s brain. Like a cat seeing a bit of interesting movement. Locked on, tail swishing.

You’re just so… shy. Even with Johnny you’ve always been a bit reserved, but with Simon you studiously avoid eye contact with his very person - in a way he can’t even get Johnny to do in the deepest subspace. You’re just this quiet little thing that lives in his house, and it’s like it only just occurs to him.

Simon starts finding ways to hem you in against counters and walls, making you squeeze past in hallways. You try to be so so careful of his Sacred Personal Space because Johnny’s gleeful shared stories (and shown you evidence) about how Simon “handles” touching without permission. You’ve no interest in being on the receiving end of any of that, thank you very much.

But then Simon starts showing up all over the house to watch you like a specimen — you devoid of Johnny. You’re so normal and functional. Snacks and tv shows and novels. Bird watching in the windows. Napping in Johnny’s room. Cooking and cleaning up after yourself.

He starts taking up all the space you just got back. Fills up a room with his presence alone. Squishes you in on the couch until you’re nearly falling over the arm just to maintain that sliver of no-contact.

Gets to the point that he even growls at you when you pass too close, just to hear you squeak and watch you dart off with a mumbled, “sorry!”

“Make us a cup of tea,” he says as your futzing in the kitchen on morning.

You’re so used to being ignored that you don’t respond, mouthing words to some ditzy song stuck in your head. He grunts in annoyance and takes two long strides towards you — not that he needs to, your head snapped up halfway through the first.

“Oop,” you breathe, scrambling away from the counter.

“The hell are you going?” He ask, voice purposefully gruff.

“I, um… I thought… that you needed something…?” you explain, pointing at the cabinets you were just in front of.

“I need a fucking cuppa.”

You blink.

He reminds himself that you’re not trained like Johnny. But that doesn’t mean you’re getting away with anything.

“Do I need to spell it out for you?”

A double blink as you seem to process. “O-oh! Uh, sure. The black cup right?”

You shuffle back to your previous spot and reach into the cabinet, up on your toes because Simon put it a shelf higher than usual. Seem to actually be waiting for a response as you hold the mug up in question. He just stares.

And there goes the nibbling - a nervous habit that tears up your bottom lip. Still, you keep going, filling the kettle and tapping your fingers nervously at the sides as you wait.

“Earl Grey?” you ask.

He grunts. You look a little frustrated about that, if you should take it as a yes. Decide that it is and fish a sachet out while the water’s heating.

While you wait, you try to continue what you were doing before - making yourself a little parfait - but Simon’s stationed himself in such a way that you can’t get to the cutting boards without asking him to move. And you really, really want some of the fresh fruit he bought yesterday.

“Um…” you start.

He crosses his arms, seems to loom without ever taking a step closer. You fidget, fingers twisting in the long sleeves of your jumper.

“I need — could… could you…?” You’re flushing brighter and brighter, eyes darting all over so fast he’s surprised you’re not dizzy. “Could I get by… um, into that cupboard… please?”

He takes a single half step to the side. Your eyes actually get a bit shiny as you blink, confusion and anxiety welling up. But you keep it together enough to awkwardly angle yourself, get the cabinet open just a sliver, and maneuver a cutting board out.

Simon realizes you’re holding your breath the entire time, until you’re once again a safe distance away. He snorts softly as you pluck a tiny paring knife from the block and get to work on cutting up your assortment of fruits.

“Who the hell said you could have a knife?” he demands.

You pause, give him a truly baffled look. “Um… no one said I couldn’t? I just, uh, use them sometimes. Johnny’s taught me tricks. Or-or tried to anyway…”

It’s the most he’s ever heard you speak. Your tone catches between appeasement and genuine confusion. You finish cutting a strawberry into cubes, then send him a worried glance.

“Am I… not supposed to…?”

Because you know that it doesn’t matter how things normally are. What matters is how Simon wants things to be.

“Put that down.”

You do. He strides towards you and as always, you’re quick to make way. He takes up the knife to finish paring and jerks his head at the the stove.

“Tea’s almost done. Take care of it.”

You jump as the kettle starts to whistle, murmur a quick “oh, shoot!” as you hurry to finish making his tea. By the time you’re done, he’d cut all the fruit and stolen a handful as a toll for his “help”.

Hasn’t actually put any of the fruit in your waiting yogurt, though. And the dishes are still there on the counter, along with detritus of unwanted bits like strawberry tops.

He takes a sip — made just the way he likes.

“Next time, dont make me repeat myself,” he barks.

You jump nearly a mile, blueberries rolling across the counter.

“Y-you repeated yourself?” You ask, hurrying to catch the berries before they hit the ground.

“About the tea,” he explains impatiently.

You blink for a second. “Oh! I thought you were on the phone. Sorry.”

He grunts. And doesn’t leave. After a moment, the pressure of his stare seems to get to you.

“Was… there anything else…?” you wonder.

“I’d tell you if there was,” he replies, flat.

You swallow, press your lips together, then continue with your task, shoulders a little tenser than before. When your parfait is finished (and dishes are in the machine) you escape to the dining table to eat in peace. He gives you two solitary bites before he’s at the corner next to you, and your spoon clinks against the bowl in surprise.

Well.

Isn’t this a fun game?

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #mean Simon ghost Riley #simon riley

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puckinghischier · 19 days

Text

Bouy

nico hischier x fem!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader

summary: reader gets dragged to the bar by jack to meet all of his teammates, but finds herself drawn to a certain swiss captain

notes: part 2 to locksmith!! probably some inaccuracies about various player’s personalities, but all in the name of entertainment, right? i didn’t proofread either, oops. don’t know if i’m happy with how this turned out but here it is nonetheless. hope you enjoy!! 🫶🏼

part 1, part 3, part 4

[4.6k]

The bar that Jack picked is surprisingly busy for a week night. It’s not overcrowded, but it’s busy enough to where you’re having to hold on to the back of his shirt so you don’t lose him. He leads the two of you over to a set of tables tucked away at the back of the bar. Jack is greeted with shouts and hugs as you drop your grip on him and simply stand back, letting him have his moment. You recognize a few of the faces, no names coming to mind, but most of the faces you’ve never seen before. You should know the names and faces of who you’re assuming are Jack’s teammates, but the truth is, despite your relationship with the Hughes family, you’ve never been one to follow hockey very closely. You don’t come from an area where hockey is a big deal, and though you understand the logistics of the game and you’ve traveled to watch all three brothers in some of their biggest games pre-NHL, your knowledge of the league’s players pretty much begins and ends with Jack, Luke, and Quinn.

“Long time no see, hallway sleeper,” you’re pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice in your ear. You turn to see Nico, no hat this time, soft, brown hair on full display. He was still wearing a white t-shirt, only his sweats have been swapped for jeans this time.

“Long time no see, locksmith.”

Nico laughs, and for the second time today you allow yourself to think about how lovely the sound is. “You know, all in a day’s work.”

“Sounds like someone really should have a conversation with the big heads at the NHL. Their poor players work so hard, only to have to pick up second jobs on their off days in order to pay the bills. Shame on them,” you joke.

“I know! Maybe it’s time I go on strike, put my full attention to helping pretty girls break into their apartments full time,” he responds, a small blush forming on your cheeks.

“Well I don’t know about all that, I need my own personal locksmith on call at all times. You can’t abandon me in my time of need!”

“Wouldn’t ever dream of it,” Nico places his hand over his chest, feigning offense. You glance over his shoulder, eyeing the bar, thinking about the vodka cranberry that’s calling your name. He turns and follows your eyes. “Did you want to go get something to drink-“

“Neeks!! What’s up man! We missed you today!” Jack cuts Nico off as he turns around, sticking a hand out in-between himself and his captain. “The kids were asking where you were, you totally have to come with us next time!”

“Yeah, man. Next time, for sure. Just needed a rest day, y’know?” Nico responds, slapping Jack’s outstretched hand.

The two begin their own conversation about the charity skate while you stand in the background. You know Jack isn’t ignoring you on purpose, but you’re getting a little tired of just standing around, deciding that you need that drink sooner than later to loosen yourself up a bit and prepare yourself for the endless stream of socializing you know is about to come your way.

“Hey, J, I’m gonna get a drink, okay? I’ll be right back,” you interrupt the conversation, knowing Jack would be worried if he looked up and you were nowhere to be found.

“Oh shit, Y/N I’m so sorry, I totally forgot to introduce you to everyone. Neeks, this is Y/N, Y/N, Nico.”

“Yeah, we met earlier. When you decided to lock the door on your way out this morning and Nico seems to be the only person with a spare key to the place,” you deadpan, watching a confused look glaze over Jack’s features.

“I left the door unlocked, I swear! I even double checked as I was leaving, because Lu-“ Jack suddenly pauses. “Luke must have locked it when he went to grab his beanie he forgot. I’m so sorry, Bouy,” Jack apologizes, letting the nickname he gave you when you were kids slip out of his mouth.

“Bouy?” you hear Nico’s confusion, looking between the two of you, clearly confused.

“We’re not even going there right now, just a stupid nickname from one summer as a kid, not even important. What is important is that I get a drink, ASAP,” you say, once again trying to make your way to the bar.

You walk away from the two men, sights set on an empty spot near the end of the bar. Admittedly, getting a drink seemed way easier in theory than in execution, because no matter how hard you tried, you cannot get the attention of the bartender. You’ve tried waving, yelling, and following her as she makes her way down the line of patrons, but to no avail. You give up with a huff, turning around and leaning your back against the bar, trying to brainstorm how to get a drink in your hand sooner rather than later. “What if I just go take someone’s drink, what would they do then?” you speak aloud to no one other than yourself.

“I would advise against that. Who knows what concoctions some of these people are drinking.”

You whip your head around to find no other than Nico himself standing to your left. You begin to think him sneaking up on people is a habit of his, seeing as this is the second time he’s both surprised you and caught you talking to yourself today.

“You’ve got to stop sneaking up on me, Jesus.”

“Sorry. You just seemed so lost in that head of yours. I’d ask you what you’re thinking, but I’ve learned if I stand here long enough you’ll just say it out loud,” Nico jabs, amusement once again present in his brown eyes. It seems that’s a common occurrence whenever you’re in his presence.

“If you think I speak my mind now, just wait until I actually get a few drinks in me. You’ll be begging me to shut up,” you joke, turning slightly to see if the bartender is anywhere near your area.

“How about we test the theory. Need help?” he asks, challenging your words.

“I mean, be my guest, but I’ve been trying for what seems like forever,” you grumble, moving over slightly to make room for him at the bar.

You watch him stick his hand out, the bartender almost immediately looking over and nodding, signaling she’ll be right over. Your jaw drops. You were a little pissed, honestly. How in the hell did he just do that? You turn your head to look at him, eyes narrowed.

“How in the hell did you just do that?” your mouth mirrors your thoughts.

“Oh y’know, I have my ways,” he says, eyes twinkling, smirk on his lips.

“No, I demand to know. There’s no way I’ve been standing up here for the better part of fifteen minutes with not even a glance in my direction, yet all you have to do is stick your hand out two inches from your face and suddenly you’re next in line,” you spit out, your tone showing your frustration at the situation.

Nico opens his mouth to respond, but a voice from the other side of the bar sounds before he can get a word out.

“Hey, Neeks, what can I get for ya? Your usual?” the woman serving drinks asks, using the same nickname Jack calls Nico.

“Nah, just a Michelob for me tonight. Got morning skate tomorrow,” he tells her, seeming familiar with the woman. She turns to you, giving you the opportunity to really look at the girl. She was short, but not shorter than yourself. She had platinum blonde hair that was tied back into a high ponytail, a pen stuck right through the middle of it. She was wearing a bright green cropped tank top with black leggings. Her make-up was the perfect combination of natural, yet bold. She was….really fucking pretty. Like, intimidatingly pretty. The kind of girl that would make even the most confident of women feel slightly insecure, to no fault of her own.

“Is that all or…?” she trailed off, looking at you expectantly.

“Can I just get a vodka cranberry? Double?” you asked, suddenly regretting your decision to not even wear make-up tonight.

You hear her scoff through a “Of course, coming right up,” before looking at Nico once again, then hurrying off to grab Nico’s beer and your cocktail.

“Is there something wrong with a vodka cran up here? Why the attitude?” you spit out, annoyed that she clearly found an issue with your choice of drink.

“You just have to ignore Jess, she’s a bit of an alcohol snob. Thinks everyone should drink top shelf or not even bother drinking at all,” Nico gives you the girl’s name.

You were going to respond to the fact that the two are on a first name basis, but your drinks arrived before you had the chance. You looked up to thank the girl, Jess as you now know, but shut your mouth when you saw the exchange happening before you.

“Just add it to my tab, Jess. Both of them,” Nico tells her, grabbing the bottle of Michelob sitting in front of him.

“Sure thing, Neeks. If you need anything else just give me a shout. You know where to find me,” Jess lets her hand linger, briefly brushing against Nico’s. You look up to her face, seeing the sultry look in her eyes, her chin slightly dropped. She’s looking at Nico like he’s a meal and she hasn’t eaten in days. Glancing over at the man standing next to you, you notice his entire face is flushed red, up to the tips of his ears.

Your brows shoot up in both surprise and understanding. These two have slept together! Her actions a dead giveaway, albeit subtle. Girls recognize girls, you know? It surely explains why he was so quick to get her attention when you couldn’t even get so much as a glance. You’re fighting against every single muscle in your face to not break out into laughter, finding this amusing for some reason.

“Yeah, gotcha. Thanks, Jess,” Nico replies to the girl, stepping back a few inches from the bar.

You turn and follow him in the direction of the tables from earlier, trying your hardest to not get lost in the crowd of bodies you’re having to weave through.

“So, you didn’t tell me that all I had to do to get the bartender’s attention was sleep with her,” you said, stopping Nico in his tracks.

He turns to look at you, eyes wide and face red, seeming a little embarrassed. You worry you’ve already stuck your foot in your mouth much too early into the night.

“How did you- What makes you think-“ he fumbles over his words.

“I’m a girl, silly. I know when another girl is giving a man the ‘you gave me one of the best nights of my life and I want to do you again’ eyes. Nothing to be ashamed of, she’s gorgeous,” you interrupt, amused at his embarrassment.

You actually think its kind of sweet he seems embarrassed. You half expected him to meet your comments with a smirk and puff his chest out a bit, proud that he’d scored such a beautiful woman, but he’s not. You’ve met plenty of Jack’s previous teammates over the years, most of them cocky assholes that care about nothing more than who they can sleep with next. Never missing the chance to boast to all of his buddies about the blonde chick he managed to sneak into his room last night.

Nico’s response was the complete opposite of that. He almost recoiled at your words, looking like he wanted to crawl under the nearest table he could find and hide there until the end of the night. It’s a refreshing contrast to what you’re used to. You start to feel a little bad for even bringing it up.

Nico stands still, staring at you like he’d rather be anywhere else at the moment, beer forgotten in his hand. You can see the wheels turning in his head on how he’s going to get out of this situation. “Hey, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s none of my business. I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m just used to Jack’s other friends that never shut up about who they sleep with. My filter has a few holes in it I need to patch up I guess. I haven’t even had a drink and I’m already sticking my foot in my mouth-“

“I haven’t slept with her.”

Your mouth snaps shut mid-sentence. You stare at the man in front of you, noticing how he keeps fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable. He keeps shifting his weight from foot to foot, switching his beer from left to right to run whichever hand is free through his hair. His eyes keep darting anywhere but your face, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

“Well if you haven’t then she sure wants to,” you try to backtrack a bit, hoping you can humor your way out of the mess you walked yourself into.

“Yeah, I’m sure she does. Just like she wants to sleep with the rest of the team,” he scoffs out. “Don’t get me wrong, Jess is nice and all, but she hits on all of us. It’s worked on a few of the guys. I’ve seen her drop a few of them off at practice in the mornings, but she never lets it go farther than that. Some of the guys prefer…arrangements like that, but it’s not really my style,” Nico replies, shocking you with his sudden honesty.

“I find it hard to believe that beautiful blondes aren’t your type, but I’ll let it slide for now,” you narrow your eyes, not sure how else to respond to his unexpected candor.

“It seems that my type is talkative strangers, but I’ll let you know if it changes,” Nico tells you with a smirk, his shift in personality giving you whiplash as he walks off without another word.

———————————————————————————

“So, where exactly are you from, Y/N?” you get asked for the fourth time in about 5 minutes from the man sitting to your right. You can’t exactly remember his name, only that he’s drank about 4 beers in the time you’ve been sitting here. Considering Jack went down the line and literally rapid fired names at you once you returned to the tables, you forgive yourself for not remembering.

“Dawson, she already told you three times, dude. She’s from Tennessee!” the man to your left shouts across you a little too loudly. You flinch a bit at just how loud these guys can be, having been shuffled around from conversation to conversation for the past hour, each man reaching a volume you didn’t know was humanly possible.

Jack will come by whatever table you’re currently at about every 30 minutes and tug you in whatever direction he sees fit, going on and on about how you just HAVE to meet so and so because they’ll love you. You love that he’s trying to include you and integrate you into the group dynamic the team has going on, but you really wish he would just let you mingle on your own.

His teammates have been nothing but welcoming and kind, but most of them are more than a few drinks deep and have been talking about whatever upcoming game they have and what strategies they need to improve on, leaving you left out and unable to add anything to the conversation.

“Virginia, actually. But close! I lived right on the border of Tennessee and Virginia, so it’s almost like I’m from both,” you shout back, explaining your origin…again.

“Wait, Virginia and Tennessee border each other?” Mr. four beers questions, Dawson you’ve just learned.

“Mercer you idiot, of course they border each other. Have you ever even looked at a fucking map?” the man to your left responds, reaching behind you and slapping Dawson on the back of the head.

“Ow! I’m from Canada, Johnny! How am I supposed to know? Do you know what Canadian states border one another?” Dawson fires back at the man to your left, Johnny.

“Provinces.”

“What?”

“Canada has provinces, not states, Dawson,” Johnny says, a blank look on his face as he stares at Dawson.

“Fuck you. And your Harvard degree,” Dawson crosses his arms and puffs up like a kid. It’s amusing really, watching the two bicker like siblings.

As the two continue to go back and forth, you can’t help but let your eyes wander around the bar, searching for a pair of brown ones. You haven’t spoken to Nico since he walked away from you earlier, after he all but told you that you were his type. His words took you by surprise, having only known the man for a few hours. You can’t lie and say you didn’t find him attractive from the moment you saw him standing in his doorway this morning, but you can’t let yourself go there, can you? You’ve been in the city less than twenty-four hours. You haven’t even fully unpacked all of your clothes yet, and here you are, unable to get your best friend’s captain off of your mind.

Just as you try to shake the thoughts running through your head, a pair of eyes find yours, causing you to sit up a little straighter. He’s standing at a table with Jack and a man that you remember to be named Timo. He’s Swiss, too, you learned when Jack introduced the two of you. He told you that he and Nico played together before they both found themselves with the Devils, the pair having hockey history.

Nico glances away, only briefly, before finding your eyes again, noticing the two men arguing on either side of you. He raises his eyebrow, as if asking you if you need help, but you just shrug and give a little half smile, rolling your eyes as if to say ‘boys, right?’. He lets out a chuckle, his shoulders shaking slightly. You see him exchange a few words with Jack and Timo before stepping away from the table, walking in the direction of the table you’re sitting at.

Just as Nico is only a few steps away, you feel your phone buzzing from where its laying on your thigh. You look at the screen, your mother’s name flashing across the screen. Realizing you hadn’t called her since your plane landed earlier in the day, you decide you should probably take the call.

“Sorry, guys, I gotta take this call,” you slide out from in-between the two hockey players, still arguing away. They don’t even notice your departure, too lost in discussing geography.

You look over to see Nico stop in his tracks, a confused look on his face. You hold up your phone and point to the screen, mouthing the word ‘mom’ before walking over to a secluded corner of the bar for some quiet.

“Hey, mom. Sorry I forgot to call earlier. It’s been a long day,” you sigh, leaning against the cool brick wall.

“Oh, sweetie, it’s okay. I just wanted to see how you were settling in. See how the boys were,” she pauses. “Where are you? What’s all that noise in the background?” she questions, slight concern in her voice.

“You know Jack, he wanted to come out and ‘celebrate’ the fact that I live in Jersey now. Tried to get out of it, but Jack never misses a chance to go out. Still have a ton of unpacking to do. I hope to have it all done before too long, though.”

“I should’ve known Jack would be ready to party as soon as you got there. You were always his favorite tag along,” she chuckles, referencing all the time Jack would drag you to various outings and events during the summer.

“Yeah, well this tag along is ready to make her way to her bed for the night, but I have to drive Jack home, so I’ll probably still be here awhile.”

“Honey just tell him you’re ready to go home. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Nah, I can wait it out a little bit longer. He’s too busy introducing me to everyone. He was so excited for me to meet his teammates,” you quickly glance towards where Jack stands. “You’d think I was some local celebrity or something the way he’s been shuffling me from table to table for meet and greets,” you laugh into the phone.

“He’s just happy to have you around again, sweetheart. I know how much you missed him, I’m sure he missed you just as much. He’s just trying to make sure you’re included.”

“I know, I know. It’s sweet, really, I just wish he would’ve let me have a few days before throwing me into a group of drunk hockey players, as usual,” you tell your mom, trying not to sound ungrateful. You do appreciate how eager Jack is to have all his friends meet you, but you’re growing sleepier by the minute.

“Welcome to life with Rowdy…again,” your mom laughs, using Jack’s childhood nickname.

“At least it’s sure to be an interesting one,” you reply, causing her laugh to grow. “Alright, momma, I better go before Jack comes looking for me. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? I love you,” you say, looking over towards Jack’s table, watching him look around, likely noticing your absence.

“Alright, honey. I love you!” she says, hanging up the phone.

You lean your head back against the wall, closing your eyes for a second and taking a deep breath before returning to the chaos of bodies across the room.

“Did Dawson and Johnny really make that bad of a first impression that you’re hiding in a dark corner?”

Yet again, you jump at the voice that seems to be following you around today. You raise your head up and open your eyes, Nico standing a few feet away from you. You simply close your eyes once again and lay your head back against the wall once more, needing another minute to collect yourself.

“You know, I think I’m going to buy you some of those shoes with squeakers in them, that way I can always know when you’re coming,” you tell him, enjoying the feeling of the cool concrete against your head.

All you hear in response is a laugh, which has you raising your head to look at Nico again. You admire the way he scrunches his nose when he laughs, already thinking about how you can coax the sound out of him again.

“Where’s the fun in that now…Bouy, was it?” he recalls your nickname from earlier, earning a glare from you.

“Don’t you even start,” you warn.

“You’re really not going to tell me why Jack called you that? I’ve been trying to get the story out of him for the past two hours. He won’t budge, saying only you can tell it.”

“Trust me, it’s not even worth your time. I don’t even understand why the nickname stuck. They’re all stupid, the lot of them,” you shut down the request.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pry it out of you one day. I’ll solve the Bouy mystery eventually,” Nico persists, not letting the subject drop that easily.

You remove yourself from the wall, sliding your phone into your back pocket. You run your hand through your hair with a huff, preparing yourself to join the others once again.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. My mom called, so I figured I’d better take it. A little tired, but I’m all good. Just hope Jack tires out sooner rather than later,” you shrug your shoulders.

“I can give him a ride home if you want to leave? I don’t mind, really. Not like it’s exactly out of the way,” Nico offers.

“No, I should stay. He was really excited for me to meet everyone tonight so I feel like I should at least stay a little bit longer. I don’t want to bail on him this soon.”

“Trust me, if it was up to Jack he wouldn’t leave until they kicked him out,” Nico states, nothing but seriousness in his tone.

“Well, we don’t call him Rowdy for nothing,” you joke. “Speaking of, we’ve been spotted,” you notice Jack making his way over to where the two of you stand.

“Hey, everything alright? I couldn’t find you and Timo said he saw you come over here awhile ago, then said he saw Nico come over here too. You okay?” Jack says as he approaches, glancing towards Nico before looking at you, concern in his tone and on his face.

“No, yeah, I’m fine. Mom called and I came over here so I could here her better, then Nico came to check on me. We were about to come join everyone again, I was just enjoying the quiet for another minute,” you tell Jack, watching the worry fall from his face.

“Oh tell momma Y/L/N that her favorite surrogate son misses her,” Jack brightens at the mention of your mom, both of you viewing the other’s parents as a second set, just as close to them as you were your own.

“I will when she calls tomorrow,” you chuckle, knowing your mom will get a kick out of this conversation.

“I actually came over here to see if you were ready to go? We have morning skate tomorrow and Luke just texted me asking when we were coming home, which usually means he’s lonely and feeling left out, so we should probably get going,” Jack says, surprising you by granting your earlier wishes.

“Oh my god yes, please. I’m so tired,” you sigh, letting your shoulders slump, relieved that you’re only a few minutes away from climbing in your bed.

“I thought so, you looked like you were having a grand time with Dawson and Johnny,” Jack laughs, recalling your earlier position between the two geography enthusiasts.

“They were literally yelling at each other about the geography of the U.S. and Canada,” you told the two men standing with you, both of them breaking out into laughter.

“That’s nothing. Once they argued for a full two hours on if pterodactyl was spelled with a p or not,” Nico adds in, having been silent until now, causing you to be the one filled with laughter.

Jack looks over, seeming to just now remember Nico was also standing with the two of you.

“You need a ride home, cap?” Jack offers, looking over at you with suspicious eyes before looking back at Nico.

“Nah, I’ve only had two beers. I’m good to drive. Plus, I should probably make sure Dawson gets home and in bed. He’s going to regret all those tequila shots when we have to be on the ice at eight tomorrow morning.”

“Exactly why I’m tapping out now. Be careful, Neeks. See you at practice,” Jack tells his captain before turning to you. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

“Like it’s a hot summer day.”

Jack smiles, the phrase becoming a trademark of yours over the years. You don’t even remember what started it, just that it’s become the signature end to many nights of fun for the two of you. He turns to walk away and you go to follow him before you realized you didn’t say goodbye to Nico. Not wanting to feel rude, you turn around to say your goodbyes to the captain.

“Goodnight, Nico. Have a good practice tomorrow.”

“Thanks. Goodnight, Bouy,” he responds, a shit-eating grin breaking out on his face.

Fuck you, Jack Hughes.

#nhl oneshot #nhl blurb #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier fanfic #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier #nico hischier one shot #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier x you #new jersey devils #hockey imagine #hockey #jack hughes #luke hughes

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runfromthemedic · 1 year

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Danny Phantom adopts more kids than Bruce Wayne

I’ve seen a lot of fics going around about how Danny will get summoned as the Ghost King via cultist and dpxdc fics going around and I had an idea.

So Danny (ages 14-16 ish depending) gets summoned a lot, and in those summoning's there is usually a sacrifice. Normally, if the sacrifices are kidnapped adults and the like Danny beats up the cultist and just lets the sacrifices go.

But what happens when the sacrifices are younger?

A literal child gets offered up, a soul contract binding them to Danny (probably as a slave or food or whatever, I just think like John Constantine’s contracts but without the con). Danny still beats up the cultist but now he has a kid with a soul contract that he can’t break without severe backlash happening to the kid and there already pretty hurt form the cultist.

Panicking and worried about the kid, Danny seals the contract but with some adjustments, so now for all intent and purposes he now has a kid.

Danny takes the kid back to the Far Frozen for Frostbite to heal, constantly sending calming emotions to his new kid while panic texting Sam and Tucker they had a kid now and spamming Jazz with questions on how to parent.

Many freak-outs and logistic family meetings later and they’ve worked out a relatively (more like half-way) decent plan for parenting. The kid is very happy with the new and loving parents and auntie and things calm down as much as things can with three liminal teenagers, a half-dead one, and a elementary schooler can between parenting, going to school, ghost king duties, and hiding all of this from Jack and Maddie.

Danny cries the first time the tot called him Dad. Sam and Tucker record this for blackmail. Danny gets even when Sam and Tucker breakout the waterworks when they get called Mom and Pops.

And then a few months later another summoning happens, this time with a 17 year old. They get adopted.

Five months after that, another summoning, this time with two 12 year old's. They get adopted.

Thirteen months after that, another summoning. The kids 15. Adopted.

Two months after that, summoning and there’s three of them. All adopted.

By the time Danny, Sam, and Tucker are about to hit college age they have thirteen kids give or take. All of them call the Trio Dad, Mom, and Pops. Doesn’t matter if some of the kids are older. Team Phantom are the best parents most of them have ever had. Age is blatantly ignored in most situations. Dani is considered the oldest. The first adopted kid is considered the second oldest, etc.

Danny’s castle in the Infinite Realms has a room for all of this kids and portals going out into different dimensions depending on where the summoning happened. The Trio didn’t want to completely uproot any of their kids lives so they make sure all of the kids have the right records, access to schooling, etc.

Cue two of the kids (maybe three if you want John Constantine drunkenly auctioning off his at the time non-existent first born, accidents happen, the whole hodgepodge family has a understanding to punch Constantine on sight if they ever see him on their siblings/sons behalf) being from the DC universe.

Older of the two goes to Gotham U (I think studying communications, politics, philosophy etc to be able to help Danny with his Ghost Kind Duties) and the younger getting a scholarship to the fancy rich kid school Damian attends.

Danny’s kids are about as liminal as they can get between the adoption contract, all of the ectoplasm exposure, and the kids all living in the Infinite Realms the majority of the time. Damian and the younger get along like a house on fire be cause they have similar interest based on life. I think the older sibling somehow befriends Tim Drake, Tim possible develops a crush.

Batman is very paranoid about the two possibly metas around his kids

#danny phantom #dp #dc x dp #danny adopts more kids than Bruce Wayne #Ghost King Danny #liminal jazz #liminal tucker #liminal sam #danny batfam #batfam #damian wayne #tim drake

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i-made-a-bg3-blog · 4 months

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Look, it’s not like Astarion intended on becoming a Harper, it’s just - well, burglary and pickpocketing are a little more difficult when you can’t enter homes without an invitation or go outside during the day, and he’s grown rather accustomed to a certain elevated lifestyle. There are other places he could turn to for money: the city owes him an estate and a title at the bare minimum. But, there’s something to be said for self-sufficiency, and, though he hates to admit it, he wouldn’t make it through three weeks as a noble without being bored out of his mind.

The Harpers need warm bodies (or cold ones, as it were) to rebuild their ranks after Orin’s doppelgangers, and Jaheira’s a savvy old crone who never learned to take no for an answer. She pinpoints Astarion’s two weak spots: a heavy coinpurse and kidnapped children, street kids, the kind no one would miss.

They’re decidedly amateurish criminals, and it doesn’t take him long to track them down and dispatch them, messily and painfully. Four children sit huddled in a cage, and Astarion knows he must look every bit the monster as he picks the lock with hands covered in gore, but they don’t shy away in fear when he opens the door. One of them slips his chubby little hand into Astarion’s and refuses to let go until they reach the safehouse. It’s…odd.

“Good work, Harper,” Jaheira tells him after, and Astarion makes it explicitly clear that he’s simply an independent contractor, an expensive one.

Jaheira just smirks like the witch she is.

So he contracts. He infiltrates the Guild (and feels insulted when Nine Fingers doesn’t recognize him; he’d like to think he’s rather unforgettable), foils an assassination plot or three, even teams up with Minsc and a turncoat Thayan to stop a gaggle of Red Wizards from doing…whatever it is they do. It’s a good business, he supposes. A hero’s reputation is a small price to pay for a hero’s coffers.

Jaheira’s wise enough to know when to hang up her blades, and it makes her more of an insufferable busybody than ever, which - somehow - becomes Astarion’s problem. First, it’s his own cell, then suddenly he’s the field contact for four others. He’s dragged to the most dreadfully tedious logistical meetings imaginable. The only reason he agrees to any of it is that Jaheira can turn an offhand comment and a raised eyebrow into the kind of challenge that itches beneath Astarion’s skin. It should be all too familiar and just as unwelcome, that burning need to prove himself, but it’s not. It’s different, perhaps, when he isn’t being set up to fail.

Jaheira passes away peacefully in her sleep at the ripe old age of one hundred and ninety-two, and Astarion’s convinced he can hear her grumbling about that all the way from the Fugue Plane. She would have rather gone out fighting, but, privately, Astarion feels like she deserved something gentler than bleeding out on a battlefield. He never did tell her how much he admired her (though he doubts she would have appreciated such open sentiment: ‘I did not realize I looked so terrible that you’ve already started my eulogy.’), but she must have known. He thinks he’s really going to miss her.

Right up until the moment Rion is handing him a pin and leading him to a library full of dossiers and documents. Then, he’s ready to cross the Astral Sea just so that he can bring her back and kill her again. Independent. Contractor. What part of that did she not understand?

He goes home and locks the door with the full intention of ignoring every Harper that comes knocking. But Harpers are nosy little shits, and after he nearly disembowels one who surprises him by breaking into his house just to tell him the most idiotic plan to dismantle a smuggling ring he’s ever had the misfortune of hearing, he realizes hiding isn’t going to be an option. Besides, Astarion cannot be privy to such levels of incompetence and sit idly by.

So he helps. Provisionally. Just long enough to find a decent replacement, and then he can wash his hands of the whole thing.

Unfortunately, it’s not as easy a task as he had hoped. Every potential candidate lacks something: consistency, creativity, confidence, the common sense to understand Astarion’s eminently logical filing system. It takes him three decades to accept that not only is he excellent at the job, but that he enjoys it immensely.

When they make him take a title, he chooses Spymaster. It suits him - dashing, mysterious, questionably moral, because he’s never been a hero, and it would be foolish to pretend that he is.

They all call him High Harper anyways.

#i love the idea of jaheira and astarion being best friends because they are both incredibly sincere people who are allergic to sincerity #also I imagine that astarion's filing system is like 'i was wearing a purple scarf when these files came in so they go in that pile'#this is just a silly little headcanon i had #jaheira #astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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goldsbitch · 4 months

Text

That one Christmas flight

summary: Y/N and Lando Norris are seated next to each other on a long flight. Innocent little Christmas tradition that Y/N does every year brings them just a little too close.

warnings: fluff, one-shot (whops a lie!), meet cute

Christmas. Y/N felt like an alien walking among people. It was impossible to avoid it. It was present in songs, in decoration, in fashion, online and on the news. Everywhere.

It's not like she was a grinch or anything. Nor was it because of some tragic incident causing trauma. Just pure fatigue from all the logistics and travel connected, which most kids of divorced parents faced every year.

Flying from Japan back to England, from her mother to her father, was a chore that seemed unavoidable. Her mother was kind enough to splurge on first class ticket for her, which her fancy Tokio job allowed. Ever since fours years ago, she continued a tradition that was introduced to her by a fellow Christmas traveller - the most stylish sassy French woman, who often spend the holidays on a plane. She would get herself and who ever was sitting next to her a glass of champagne and chat them up. Y/N has never laughed so much in her life like she did when she met this woman - so she took the tradition as her own.

Lando's plan wasn't to be on a flight from Japan to London on the 24th of December. He had so little time with his family and friends that this secret work trip to the Honda factory was really pushing him into staying with McLaren for the following years and not switching to a different team. This whole situation was like fuel for his current headache.

Y/N second guessed her tradition when a super gorgeous looking boy, who seemed to want anything but to be bothered, was sat next to her. She was used to having older people sitting next to her. Anyway, tradition is a tradition, so she eventually got up to order the classic. She nearly turned back at the thought that this guy was giving off some serious "I'm a dick" vibes, he had barely acknowledged her since she sat down. Luckily, she ignored this feeling.

When a glass of champagne appeared before Lando, he was sure it was a mistake.

"Well, to Christmas," his neighbor toasted. While he thought that she was a rather good looking girl, he was in no mood for a fangirl.

"I'm very sorry, um...I'll be happy to take a photo with you or something, but I am not in the best mood for a interaction with a fan."

She gave him a baffled look.

He continued. "Look, I'll be more than happy to sign anything. Or a photo, just as long you keep between un on which flight you saw me."

Y/N put her glass down, this was a first one.

"First of all, sorry for invading your private time. I have this stupid tradition of having a glass with whomever I'm destined to spend this Christmas flight. Guess I was mistaken. Second of all, I have no fucking idea who you are. So, calm down." She downed half of her glass. Of course this stupid year would include an asshole like this. Oh well.

Lando was confused for a moment and immediately after that he felt like an idiot.

"Apologies," he slowly replied, somewhat baffled. "I thought you were a fan and I'm just not in the mood for that." Y/N rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her champagne. "I'm Lando, by the way."

"Is that a stage name?"

"No, " he laghed. "I think it was a random decision of my mom."

"Interesting. Y/N," she introduced herself, without looking at him.

There was a weird tension in the air. Lando was determined to break it. Y/N was currently casually offended.

"Let me get you another one so that we can have a toast."

"Great, getting drunk is also an option. Hate flying sober," she joked.

Another glass was brought by a smiling flight attendant.

"So, how does this work?" Lando asked. Y/N was a person easily annoyed, however as quickly this came it also ended.

"Fine. There are rules, btw."

"Of course there are."

"Ehm, ehm, " she cleared her throat. "So, this tradition was started by Madame Tatanova and from now on, if you find yourself on a plane on 24th or 25th of December, you need to toast with your fellow neighbor passenger and answer the following: why and for how long-"

"I will have to write this down, I have a memory of a dead chicken."

"-I'm not finished! And then you follow up by your biggest regret and one thing nobody knows. The purpose of this is to gain or pass on wisdom and use the opportunity you'd normally miss by blasting up your headphones." She's done this for four times now, still the introduction was missing the "Madame Tatanova magic". Maybe one day.

"Ok..." Lando was not following yet, but he was keen on doing so. She raised her glasses, as did he.

"Cheers, to Christmas flights."

"Cheers, " he replied and they both sipped their champagne. "Wait, I have a question - what would you do if I did not speak English? Or if I was deaf?"

Lando was being his cheeky self and Y/N was not having it. She answered the question with a look.

"Got it! Anyway...what was the question?"

"Why."

"Why? Why is the sky dark or....?"

"Why are you on this plane."

"I'm trying to get to London from Tokio."

"I swear to god, I will ask to be seated somewhere else, Orlando."

"Lando, actually."

"If you say so..."

"Huuh, I'm going back from a work trip. And since you claim not to know me, I can probably tell you more than I should. Um, imagine I am in a band, right? I'm singing for a band and every few years they change their lead singer, one of the two actually, and I'm a the lead singer who might go to a different band now. But it's not clear yet and super secret actually. So, please keep it to yourself." Lando felt like someone who has just discovered speech and this was the first time he was using it. "Does that make any sort of sense?"

"Sort of I think. So you're cheating on your band?"

"Uhh, I'd say checking out options."

"Remind me never to date guys like you," she joked and immediately regretted that. Y/N was not good at flirting and did not want to appear creepy.

Lando passed on this comment, still not sure if he could trust this girl. "So, what about you? Why?"

"The curse of the divorced parents. One lives in London, the other one in Japan and I'm a package they pass each year," she said rather bitterly.

"Sorry to hear that."

"Yeah. I get to see mom twice a year and it's all always so planned and predictable. I would kill for spontaneity."

"Take me with you next time, I'm sure she'll be surprised." "Yes, she is a big fan of British guys, that's why she divorced one!"

"Great, happy to follow that route!"

Y/N started to relax a bit. This could be good, actually. "Ok, so now. For long are you staying in London, Lando?"

"Only few weeks. Then our music season starts. "

"Yeah, the one with all the singing, of course."

"Yeeah."

Y/N laughed a bit. He was suprisingly easy to talk to.

"So, how long?"

"A week. Then I'm off to Bologna."

"Uuuh, fancy that!"

"Yeah, I'm studying history there."

"Bologna is the one with the old university?" he asked, pretending he has never heard of that.

"No, not really, they just opened. Last year we did not have chairs, because the shipment got delayed," she replied with a dry tone.

"One does always study better while standing. I believe it was Socrates, who said it."

"Oh, yes. They teach you this at the singing music school?"

"Exactly. We were never allowed to sit."

They continued to chat all the way through the airplane dinner, getting few more glasses of champagne during that. Their laughter was interrupted by a flight attendant, who acted on a complaint from a fellow passenger. They both fell asleep watching a movie. Y/N woke up few times in the night and observed the boy next to her. Knowing this was the best Christmas plane encounter she ever had. Lando woke up as well, feeling strangely happy about the fact she was resting her head on his shoulder.

"Wait." Lando stopped her at the entrance to customs hall and pulled them both behind a column, so that they could not be seem by bystanders.

"Yes?" she turned to him.

"This might be weird, but can I kiss you?" Y/N looked at the boy in a hoodie standing in front of her, cheeky guy suddenly appearing nervous. He was absolutely gorgeous. She hated the fact he was random guy on a plane to London and not to Bologna.

"Yes. Must be midnight somewhere. So it could be like a New Years thing."

"Yeah. Just an airport thing." With that he kissed her. Just two young people having a little moment of silence. His kiss was a light slow brush on the lips. He cupped her cheek and her hand brushed through his curly hair. First kiss usually does not take long. For a person passing by, this would appear like kiss these two shared a thousand times before.

When they eventually parted, it all seemed a bit surreal.

"We never got to the second part of your Christmas interview," Lando commented.

"Well. Let's say that the one thing nobody knows is that I just kissed a random guy from the plane. And that my biggest regret is that we will never see each other again." For the first time, she was this bluntly honest with somebody who had just kissed her for the first time. It felt intoxicating.

Lando smiled. "See, I knew we had something in common."

Lando was usually not so open with his crushes, if he could even put her in that category.

"Don't worry. I won't search for you online or anything. I want to keep the mystery of Lando alive."

He kissed her once more, before they parted.

Their hearts felt a little more heavier than usual on midnight that New Years Eve. Both standing surrounded by their favorite people, yet with the one they would wish to kiss being impossibly far away.

part 2

_________________________

@superlegend216

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris angst #meet cute #fluff #lando norris fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #oneshot fanfiction #ln4 x reader #That one Christmas flight

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callsigns-haze · 1 month

Text

Bad Idea, right???

Pairing: Azriel x reader Warning: This chapter contains explicit sexual content and emotional turmoil SMUT. Summary: After a frantic search, Cassian and his companions discover YN and Azriel's hidden rendezvous, realizing that love finds a way even in the most unexpected of places.

Part 2

YN stood at the edge of the bustling Night Court party, observing the revelry with a sense of detachment. As a female soldier in Cassian's armies, she was more accustomed to the clang of swords and the heat of battle than the swirl of music and laughter that filled the extravagant hall.

Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court, was engrossed in conversation with his mate, Feyre, their love evident in the intimate way they danced together. YN admired their bond from afar, but she couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place amidst the festivities.

"YN," Cassian's voice interrupted her thoughts, and she turned to face him, grateful for the familiar presence of her commander. "Still not a fan of these parties, huh?"

YN shrugged, a wry smile playing on her lips. "You know me, Cassian. I prefer action to idle chatter."

Cassian chuckled, understanding glinting in his eyes. "I can't argue with that. Speaking of action, we need to discuss the upcoming mission. Let's find somewhere quieter to talk."

As they moved away from the crowded dance floor, YN's gaze inadvertently drifted to the shadows where Azriel, the mysterious spymaster of the Night Court, stood observing the festivities with his customary silent vigilance. There was something captivating about him, something she couldn't quite put into words.

Cassian followed her gaze and grinned knowingly. "Ah, I see you've noticed Azriel. Careful, YN. He's not one to be trifled with."

YN tore her gaze away, feeling a flush of embarrassment heat her cheeks. "I wasn't... I mean, it's not like that."

Cassian raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Sure, YN. Whatever you say."

They found a secluded alcove where they could discuss the details of the upcoming mission in relative privacy. As they delved into strategy and logistics, YN couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Glancing around discreetly, she caught Azriel's dark gaze lingering on her for a moment before he turned away, disappearing into the shadows once more.

Despite her best efforts to focus on the task at hand, YN found her thoughts drifting back to Azriel. There was a magnetic pull between them, a connection she couldn't ignore. But she pushed the thought aside, knowing that their respective roles in the Night Court's hierarchy made any sort of personal entanglement impossible.

As the night wore on and the party continued in full swing, YN excused herself from Cassian's company, citing exhaustion from the day's training exercises. Making her way through the throngs of revelers, she found herself drawn once again to the shadows where Azriel lingered.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked, stepping into the darkness beside him.

Azriel regarded her with his trademark unreadable expression before inclining his head in silent invitation. They stood in companionable silence, watching the festivities unfold in the distance.

"Thank you for the dance," Azriel said suddenly, his voice soft but carrying a weight of unspoken meaning.

YN's heart skipped a beat, surprised by his unexpected words. "I didn't realize you were watching."

Azriel shrugged, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "I always watch."

There was a vulnerability in his admission that took YN by surprise, a glimpse beneath the stoic facade he presented to the world. In that moment, she felt a spark of connection between them, a shared understanding born of their experiences as warriors in a world plagued by darkness.

As the music swirled around them, YN and Azriel found themselves drawn into a tentative dance, their movements graceful yet tentative, as if testing the waters of this newfound connection.

Azriel led with a steady hand, guiding YN through the steps of the dance with a quiet confidence that belied the shadows that clung to him like a second skin. As they moved together, they exchanged light conversation, a rare moment of respite amidst the chaos of their respective duties.

"How is it to work as Cassian's right hand?" Azriel asked, his voice soft but tinged with genuine curiosity.

YN smiled, the warmth of his gaze melting away the walls she had built around herself. "It's... challenging, to say the least. Cassian has a way of pushing you to your limits, of always expecting the best from you. But he's also fiercely loyal and protective of those under his command. I couldn't ask for a better leader."

Azriel nodded thoughtfully, his eyes betraying a hint of admiration. "He speaks highly of you. Says you're one of the best soldiers he's ever trained."

A flush of pride warmed YN's cheeks at the unexpected praise. "Coming from Cassian, that means a lot."

"And what about you?" YN asked, turning the conversation back to Azriel. "How is it to be a High Lord's spy? I imagine it comes with its own set of challenges."

Azriel's expression grew solemn, the weight of his responsibilities evident in the depths of his dark eyes. "It's a lonely existence, living in the shadows, always watching, always listening. But it's necessary. Someone has to keep an eye on the darker corners of our world, to ensure that Prythian remains safe from those who would seek to destroy it."

YN reached out, a gentle touch against his arm, a silent gesture of understanding. "You're not alone, Azriel. Not as long as you have allies who are willing to stand by your side."

For a moment, they danced in silence, the music a soft melody in the background as they lost themselves in the rhythm of each other's presence. In that moment, amidst the swirling dance of light and shadow, YN and Azriel found a fleeting sense of peace, a respite from the chaos of their world.

And though they knew that their duties would soon call them back to the harsh realities of their respective roles, for now, they allowed themselves to simply be, to exist in this fragile moment of connection that bound them together in ways they could not yet comprehend.

As YN and Azriel continued their dance, their movements growing more fluid and effortless with each passing moment, they were unaware of the watchful eyes that observed them from afar.

Rhysand and Feyre approached Cassian with matching expressions of concern etched on their faces. Cassian greeted them with a nod, his attention momentarily diverted from the dance unfolding before him.

"Something seems off about YN and Azriel," Rhysand remarked, his voice low but laced with a hint of unease. "Have you noticed?"

Cassian furrowed his brow, tearing his gaze away from YN and Azriel to focus on his High Lord and his mate. "What do you mean?"

Feyre glanced over at YN and Azriel, her eyes narrowing slightly as she observed their interaction. "They're dancing. Talking. It's... unusual."

Rhysand's gaze darkened, a flicker of concern passing through his eyes. "Azriel doesn't dance. And YN rarely attends these parties. Something must be going on."

Cassian's expression hardened, a protective instinct rising within him as he watched YN and Azriel move together with an intimacy that seemed out of place amidst the opulent surroundings of the Night Court. "I'll keep an eye on them. Make sure everything's alright."

Rhysand, Feyre, and Cassian exchanged puzzled glances as they realized that YN and Azriel had vanished from their sight. A sense of unease settled over them, the unanswered questions lingering in the air like a silent accusation.

"Where do you think they went?" Feyre asked, her voice tight with concern.

Cassian's jaw clenched, his instincts screaming at him to find YN and ensure her safety. "I don't know, but we need to find them. Something doesn't feel right."

Rhysand nodded in agreement, his expression grave as he surveyed the bustling crowd around them. "Spread out. Look for any sign of them. We can't afford to let them wander off unattended."

With a shared sense of urgency, they dispersed into the throng of partygoers, their eyes scanning the room for any trace of the missing pair.

Meanwhile, in the quiet seclusion of Azriel's private room, YN and Azriel found themselves alone at last, the noise of the party fading into the distance as they closed the door behind them.

Azriel turned to face YN, his gaze intense as he searched her eyes for any sign of hesitation. "Are you sure about this?"

YN met his gaze with unwavering determination, her heart pounding in her chest as she took a step closer to him. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

Without another word, Azriel closed the distance between them, his lips meeting hers in a fierce and passionate kiss that left them both breathless. In that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of them entwined in a tangle of desire and longing.

As they surrendered to the heat of their passion, they knew that their union was forbidden, that their love could never be openly acknowledged in the unforgiving world of the fae. But in the darkness of Azriel's private room, they were free to be themselves, free to love each other without fear or judgment.

As Azriel pushed YN gently onto the soft mattress, a rush of anticipation coursed through both of them. The air between them crackled with desire, the weight of their forbidden love hanging heavy in the quiet room.

With practiced hands, Azriel deftly removed YN's corset, his touch sending shivers down her spine as the fabric fell away, leaving her exposed and vulnerable beneath his gaze. His eyes roamed over her body, tracing the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts with a hunger that mirrored her own.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "More beautiful than I could ever have imagined."

YN's breath caught in her throat at his words, a flush of heat spreading across her cheeks as she met his intense gaze. The weight of his admiration washed over her, filling her with a heady sense of power and desire.

But as Azriel's hands began to explore her body with a gentle urgency, YN grew impatient for his touch, the ache between her thighs becoming almost unbearable.

"Please," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breathless plea. "I need you."

With a low growl of desire, Azriel gave in to her request, his lips finding hers in a searing kiss that left them both gasping for air. As their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace, they surrendered to the heat of their desire, losing themselves in the ecstasy of each other's touch.

Azriel's lips trailed lower, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they caressed YN's shoulders and neck. His touch was electrifying, igniting a hunger within her that she had never known before. With each kiss, each gentle nip of his teeth, he sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body.

As his lips descended further, Azriel's fingers began to toy with YN's nipples, eliciting a soft gasp of pleasure from her lips. His touch was both gentle and possessive, his fingers tracing delicate circles around her sensitive peaks, coaxing them to stiffen beneath his touch.

YN arched her back in response, offering herself up to him with a fervor that matched his own. The ache between her thighs grew more intense with each passing moment, aching for the release that only Azriel could give her.

With a low growl of desire, Azriel continued his descent, his lips blazing a trail of fire across her skin as he kissed lower and lower. His fingers continued to toy with her nipples, teasing and tormenting her until she thought she might lose her mind with longing.

And then, finally, his lips found their destination, trailing lower and lower until he reached the apex of her thighs. With a reverence that bordered on worship, he pressed his lips to her most intimate place, his tongue teasing and tasting her with a hunger that matched her own.

YN cried out in ecstasy as Azriel's tongue danced over her folds, sending bolts of pleasure shooting through her body. His fingers continued to toy with her nipples, driving her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion with each passing moment.

In that moment, as Azriel worshipped her body with a passion that bordered on divine, YN knew that she had found paradise in his arms. And as the flames of desire consumed them both, they surrendered to the ecstasy of their passion, lost in a world of sensation and pleasure that was all their own.

As Azriel delved deeper into her, YN's moans grew louder, her cries of pleasure echoing off the walls of the quiet room. She arched her back, pressing herself closer to him, her fingers tangling in his hair as she urged him on.

"Azriel," she gasped, her voice raw with need. "Yes, like that... don't stop."

Azriel's tongue flicked and teased her sensitive flesh, his fingers matching the rhythm of his movements as he drove her closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. He lost himself in the taste and scent of her, his senses overwhelmed by the heady intoxication of her desire.

With each flick of his tongue, each thrust of his fingers, YN felt herself spiraling higher and higher, teetering on the brink of release. She clung to him desperately, her body trembling with the force of her need as she chased the elusive peak of pleasure that hovered just out of reach.

And then, with a cry that bordered on desperation, YN shattered into a million pieces, her entire body convulsing with the force of her release. Azriel continued to pleasure her through the waves of ecstasy, prolonging her pleasure until she thought she might lose her mind with the intensity of it all.

As YN slowly came down from the dizzying heights of pleasure, she felt Azriel withdraw from her, leaving her feeling strangely empty and bereft. She blinked, her vision still hazy with the remnants of her orgasm, and when she looked down, she couldn't help but gasp in surprise at the sight before her.

Azriel's length was impressive, to say the least, standing proud and unyielding between them. YN's eyes widened at the sight, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and desire as she took in the size of him.

Azriel chuckled softly at her reaction, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he watched her gaze linger on him. "Like what you see?"

YN tore her gaze away, feeling a blush creeping up her cheeks at being caught staring. "I... I've never seen anything like it before."

Azriel's grin widened, a teasing glint in his eyes as he leaned closer to her. "Is that so? You're drooling, you know."

YN's cheeks grew even hotter at his playful taunt, and she quickly wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, mortified at her own lack of control.

"I am not!" she protested, though her embarrassment only seemed to amuse Azriel even more.

"Sure you're not," he teased, his voice dripping with mock innocence. "But don't worry, love. I promise I'll take good care of you."

As he spoke, Azriel leaned in closer, his lips brushing against hers in a tender kiss that sent sparks flying through YN's veins. In that moment, any lingering embarrassment was forgotten, replaced by a hunger that burned hotter than ever before.

As Azriel slipped into her, YN felt a powerful stretch unlike anything she had ever experienced before. A sharp intake of breath escaped her lips as she felt him filling her completely, her body adjusting to accommodate his size. The sensation was intense, overwhelming, and she couldn't help but cry out, a mixture of pleasure and discomfort echoing in her voice.

Azriel paused, concern flickering in his eyes as he saw the tears welling up in YN's eyes. He cooed softly, his voice filled with tenderness as he brushed away the tears with his thumb.

"Shh, love, it's okay," he whispered, his lips pressing gentle kisses against her forehead. "I've got you. Just relax and breathe."

YN nodded, trying to focus on the reassuring warmth of Azriel's touch as she willed herself to relax. With each shallow breath, she felt herself beginning to adjust to the sensation of him inside her, the discomfort slowly giving way to a burgeoning sense of pleasure.

Sensing her readiness, Azriel began to move, his thrusts slow and steady as he explored the depths of her desire. With each movement, he delved deeper, pushing her to new heights of ecstasy with each powerful thrust.

As YN surrendered to the pleasure coursing through her veins, she felt a sense of liberation unlike anything she had ever known before. In Azriel's arms, she felt safe, cherished, and desired in ways she had never thought possible.

And as they moved together in perfect harmony, lost in the rhythm of their shared passion, YN knew that she had found something truly special in Azriel. Something worth holding onto, no matter where their desires may lead them.

As their bodies moved together in a symphony of passion, YN felt herself teetering on the edge of ecstasy once again. Each thrust of Azriel's hips sent bolts of pleasure shooting through her, igniting a fire within her that threatened to consume her whole.

"Azriel," she moaned, her voice a breathless plea as she neared the pinnacle of her desire. "Oh gods, Azriel, I'm close."

Azriel's movements grew more urgent, his own desire burning brightly in his eyes as he chased his own release alongside hers. He leaned in closer, his lips finding hers in a searing kiss that stole her breath away.

"Come for me, YN," he whispered against her lips, his voice raw with need. "Let go, love. I've got you."

With one final, powerful thrust, YN felt herself shatter into a million pieces, her entire body convulsing with the force of her release. She cried out Azriel's name like a prayer, her voice echoing off the walls of the quiet room as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.

Azriel followed soon after, his own release washing over him like a tidal wave as he buried himself deep inside her, his body trembling with the intensity of his desire.

For a timeless moment, they lay wrapped in each other's arms, lost in the blissful aftermath of their passion. And as they drifted back to reality, their hearts still pounding in their chests, they knew that they had found something truly special in each other.

In the quiet intimacy of Azriel's private room, amidst the shadows of the Night Court, YN and Azriel had discovered a love that transcended the boundaries of duty and destiny. And as they lay tangled together in the aftermath of their passion, they knew that no matter what the future held, their love would endure, eternal and unbreakable.

---

Outside Azriel's room, Cassian, Rhysand, and Feyre continued their frantic search for YN and Azriel, their concern growing with each passing moment. Rhysand attempted to reach out to them telepathically, but his efforts were met with silence, adding to their growing sense of unease.

"They're not answering," Rhysand said, his voice tight with worry. "I can't sense them anywhere in the palace."

Cassian's jaw clenched, his instincts screaming at him to find YN and ensure her safety. "We need to keep looking. They can't have gone far."

But just as they were about to continue their search, a familiar voice cut through the tension like a knife.

"Looking for someone?"

They turned to see Mor standing in the hallway, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. Cassian's expression darkened as he realized the implications of her words.

"What do you know, Mor?" he demanded, his voice betraying his frustration.

Mor laughed, a musical sound that grated on Cassian's nerves. "Oh, nothing much. Just that I saw Azriel and his lover sneaking off into his private room a little while ago."

Cassian's eyes widened in disbelief, his mind racing as he processed Mor's words. "His lover? You mean YN?"

Mor nodded, her grin widening at the realization that she had caught them in the act. "That's the one. Looks like they found a way to entertain themselves without us after all."

Rhysand exchanged a knowing glance with Cassian and Feyre, a sense of relief washing over them at the knowledge that YN and Azriel were safe, if not a little indisposed.

"Well, I suppose we can give them some privacy," Rhysand said, his voice tinged with amusement. "They've earned it."

With that, they turned and made their way back down the hallway, leaving YN and Azriel to their own devices in the quiet seclusion of Azriel's private room. And though they may not have found them where they expected, they knew that wherever YN and Azriel were, they were together, lost in the depths of their shared passion and desire.

As Cassian, Rhysand, and Feyre made their way back through the halls of the Night Court, a mixture of emotions swirled within them. Cassian's initial frustration gave way to relief knowing that YN was safe, albeit in a situation he hadn't anticipated. Rhysand's amusement lingered, tempered by a sense of understanding and respect for the bond between YN and Azriel. Feyre, ever perceptive, offered a knowing smile, her own experiences with passion and desire coloring her reaction.

Once they were out of earshot, Rhysand turned to Cassian and Feyre, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, it seems our concern was unwarranted. YN and Azriel have found their own way of... entertaining themselves."

Cassian couldn't help but chuckle, the tension of their search dissipating in the wake of Mor's revelation. "I suppose we should have known better. Those two are always full of surprises, and hate parties."

Feyre nodded in agreement, her lips quirking into a knowing smile. "The bond finds a way, even in the most unexpected places."

With a shared sense of understanding, they continued on their way, their footsteps echoing through the empty halls of the Night Court. And though they may not have found YN and Azriel where they expected, they knew that their bond was strong enough to weather any storm, to overcome any obstacle that stood in their way.

As they returned to the festivities, their minds filled with thoughts of love and desire, Cassian, Rhysand, and Feyre couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and happiness for YN and Azriel. For in a world filled with darkness and uncertainty, they had found a beacon of light in each other's arms, a love that would endure for all eternity.

-----

As YN and Azriel lay entwined in the quiet intimacy of Azriel's private room, they revealed in the aftermath of their passion, their bodies still humming with the echoes of their shared ecstasy.

Azriel brushed a stray lock of hair away from YN's face, his touch gentle as he traced the curve of her cheek with his fingertips. "Are you alright?" he asked softly, concern flickering in his eyes.

YN nodded, a contented smile playing on her lips as she snuggled closer to him, reveling in the warmth of his embrace. "I'm more than alright. I've never felt better."

Azriel's lips curved into a tender smile as he pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead. "Good. You deserve nothing less than absolute happiness."

In that moment, as they lay wrapped in each other's arms, YN felt a sense of peace wash over her, a feeling of contentment unlike anything she had ever known before. With Azriel by her side, she felt invincible, ready to face whatever challenges the future may hold.

But even as they basked in the glow of their newfound love, they knew that their time together was fleeting, that the realities of their world would soon come crashing back down upon them. Duty and responsibility beckoned, pulling them back into the harsh light of day where their love would remain a secret, hidden away from prying eyes.

Yet, for now, in the quiet sanctuary of Azriel's private room, they allowed themselves to simply be, to exist in this fragile moment of connection that bound them together in ways they could not yet comprehend.

And as they drifted off to sleep, their bodies entwined in a tangle of limbs and hearts beating as one, they knew that no matter what the future held, their love would endure, eternal and unbreakable, a beacon of hope in a world consumed by shadows.

Tagging some:

@callsign-magnolia

@kmc1989

@hardballoonlove

@senawashere

@hookslove1592

@marvel-molly

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel #azriel smut #azriel shadowsinger

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