#these have been sitting around for two weeks now
Text
"He Called me Pretty!" - CS 55
summary: in which Carlos and Y/N is baby sitting Penelope and Leo, suddenly Carlos calls his wife pretty which makes her all cute and giddy <3
pairings: Carlos Sainz x Pregnant Wife!Reader
warnings: none, pure fluff like fr
word count: 1,439
a/n: we r so close to 900 aaaa ily allllll u deserve to be fed with thisss also should i make a carlos sainz x pregnant wife reader series!?!!? also penelope's nickname as we all know is "p" <33
[re edited version, added: taglist, taglist form, and feedback form]
masterlist
Being pregnant was two things for you, awesome and horrific.
Cause who the fuck told you that it would be this horrendous? And a whole rollecoaster ride. First trimester was pure hell, that's what you would yap and yap all night and day long to your husband. What's great about him is he would always say "Ay mi amor you know if I could just take the pregnancy for you, I would." He'd chuckle, which made you a laughing mess.
Meanwhile, second trimester was a more chill, God how you thanked everyone who told you that. Now you were 6 months in, so close, so close Y/N. You'd repeat to yourself.
Boy were you thankful to have a husband like Carlos cause honestly your whole pregnancy consists of being mean to him, pouting like a kid, and being his big baby.
Like one night, the cold air brushed against your whole body making you shiver. A loud whine and groan escapes your mouth, eyebrows furrowing and mouth with a full on pout as you open your eyes seeing your husband take all of the duvet in. Not even leaving space for his beautiful pregnant wife!?!
You didn't say you anything, you just sat there pouting like a kid with your arms crossed while you stared at him. Carlos has a strong feeling and urge to suddenly wake up which he never really gets especially at 3am but boy did he had the feeling. He opens his eyes lazily, eyebrows furrowing like yours as he sees you pouting and glaring at him.
He groans. "mami?" he says in his groggy but still hot voice.
You didn't even answer him, you just pouted and gave him a playful but still slightly rough smack on his shoulder as you turn around to face the wall.
A chuckle comes out of Carlos's mouth, he loved his wife. He really did, even if it was one of these times. He smiles happily still sleepy as he wraps the duvet around your body while his hands gently pulled you in closer to him. He wraps his arms around your belly, gently rubbing it knowing that finally his beautiful wife is warm and happy as he mumbles words.
"You saying something?!" you snap, still with a pout on your face but that soon melted away feeling your husband's warm touch but most especially the duvet of course.
"That i love you." He utters, pressing kisses against your neck.
You smiles happily, putting your hands on top of your husband's which was still on your baby bump. "I love you too." you mumble as you drift off to sleep.
Few weeks later, you get a sudden text from Max and Charles asking if you could babysit P and Leo. You didn't hesitate to say yes, you loved the two of them, you and Carlos have been babysitting them for quite a while since Charles and Max always had these "best friend" times together. You beg to disagree, you were always team lestappen.
What you didn't expect is too see the two kids, yes Leo is considered a kid cause he is a freaking kid even if he's a dog and we love him. Anyways, you thought Max and Charles would be there to accompany them inside but instead when you opened the front door you saw P smiling happily like the little girl she is with her pink backpack and Leo wagging his tail and his tongue out.
"HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII" P exclaims happily with a bright smile as she opens her arms.
Your jaw dropped but you changed it to a smile, seeing the two of them. "Hiiii!" You match P's energy as you lean down to pick her up in your arms and Leo in the other.
P smiles happily seeing you as she wraps her arms around you and gives you kisses all over your cheek which she always does and so does Leo. You giggle, feeling the warmth of the kisses of the two kids, small licks of Leo on your left and P's kisses on your right.
"Maxie and Uncle Charlie went out again, maybe they're on a date." P giggles that was followed by a huff from Leo, the pup sure did agree to his older sister.
"I swear, your dads have more dates than me and your uncle Carlos." You mutter, making P laugh as you close the front door. Once you closed the door, Carlos came right downstairs with a smile on his face.
"If it isn't my two favorite kids." He chuckles, approaching you guys closer as he quickly gives P a peck on her cheek and eventually taking Leo from your arms.
You smile, watching Leo lick Carlos all over his face. Your head turns to P as you smile at her, gently putting her down to the couch while she lays down comfortably, inhaling the fresh air and the coldness of your house that she loved.
While P laid down comfortably on the couch and Leo and Carlos are having a sweet moment, you head over to the fridge to grab the puppuccino you saved just for Leo.
"Didn't Charles say no more puppuccinos for Leo mi amor?" Carlos chuckles, seeing you with the small cup on your hand.
"Yeah but this little cutie deserves to be spoiled." You giggle, kissing Leo on his head as you hand Carlos the puppuccino to give to Leo. "And you pretty girl." You smile, sitting next to P on the couch. "i made you cookies."
Those cookies lasted not even five minutes for P, she really loves your baking especially your cookies. As the hours passed, all four of you just stayed and chilled on the couch while watching tv. P was nestled in your lap, her head laying down against your baby bump that she loved caressing.
"You're big." She giggles, giving pecks on your baby bump as she eventually looks up at you with those cute little eyes of her.
"Yea, i sure am." You laugh, sighing softly. Lately, you've just felt so soft-hearted, you don't know why. You've been clingy to Carlos and he's absolutely into it. You really don't know but it's definitely a cute look on you.
You didn't even notice Carlos's soft gaze on you. He was staring at you like a teenager in love as he caresses Leo with his hands who was now asleep. Carlos was so happy to have you especially when you got pregnant. He loves and adores you so much that in most days you don't even notice his loving stares.
"You look pretty." He smiles softly, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek as he looks at you and that cute little sundress of yours.
It was like your world stopped and your heart melted so much. It's not that Carlos doesn't say you look pretty, in fact he does say it everyday but something was just different today. You felt the loving presence of your husband and his love for you.
You pout cutely, eyelashes fluttering as you smile at him. "What did you say?" You ask him softly, knowing damn you well you heard him but you wanted to hear that word again.
"I said you look pretty mi amor." He smiles, scooting closer next to you, his other arm wrapping around your shoulder as he places a soft kiss on your cheek.
You couldn't help but smile and giggle, you were like a little girl getting a doll. "He said i look pretty!" You say to P with pure happiness and joy.
"You are pretty!" She giggles, moving to your side to give you a kiss on your other cheek.
Carlos smiles at the beautiful sight but he wonders why that was your reaction even if he always said it everyday. "I always say that to you everyday mi amor." He says with a confused look but still with a smile on his mouth.
You smile, leaning your head on his shoulder. "I know you do, it's just it feels different now and i don't know i just love you so much that i feel so happy and giddy even if all you said was that i looked pretty."
He smiles, pressing a kiss on your forehead. "I love you more."
After being together for so long you still loved your husband and his cute but small actions that gave you butterflies even if it was just a simple "you look pretty." Still, you couldn't contain your excitement. "He said i look pretty!!" You squeal once again to P who was matching your energy.
@pear-1206 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @euphoricchills @charlesleclerx @inchident-jpg @amethyst-bitch @dr4g0ngirl @likedbygaslyy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @httpstoyosi @evermore55 @bibissparkles @lokideservesahug @darleneslane @shelbyteller @spookystitchery @bearryyy @justtprachisblog @alliwantisadonut @papaya-twinks @casperlikej @funnelcakeee @xoscar03 @snapeeballsack @silverxxs-world @thearchieves @destinyg237 @juliee4everial @thebasicbiatch @67-angelofthelordme-67 @tallrock35 @sya-skies @hockeyboysarehot @iloveyou3000morgan @sugaspawsmari @aymfsts @khaylin27 @be-your-coffee-pot @yettobedetermined7 @dhanihamidi @formula1simp @bokutos-babyowl @peachiicherries @youdontknowmeshh @nyramylove @annispamz @formulaal @scout-likes-sharks @valentine @oliviah-25
[remaining taglist for those who weren't tagged bc of the limit]
taglist form
feedback form
#f1#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula 1 au#f1 blurb#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz fluff#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz x female reader#carlos sainz
419 notes
·
View notes
Text
Shots II
Pernille Harder x Baby!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Pernille and your shots
Magda has to take paternity leave. Well, technically she could have taken shared parental leave but it was difficult to do when both she and Pernille were athletes so paternity leave was the next best thing.
In theory, she was only entitled to two weeks but the club were generous and eager to keep her with them for many years.
They gave her six.
Six whole weeks to spend with you and Pernille in Pernille's little apartment in Germany. Six whole weeks to get used to you in her life and her new role as mother.
Six weeks, however, didn't extend to your first shots or, rather, your first group of shots after your birth.
You'd been given a round of vaccines in the hospital the day you were born along with being measured and weighed and checked for any issues.
Your next round comes at eight weeks though and Pernille is all alone.
You sit on the floor in front of her in your carrier. You're blissfully asleep, blanket wrapped around you and a little hat to keep your tiny head nice and warm.
You look peaceful and happy, smacking your lips together in your sleep like you're being fed in your dreams.
Pernille hates to ruin it but her name is called and she lifts up your carrier to head to the doctor.
"Right," The man says," Eight weeks. Is that about right?"
"Yes," Pernille says," Eight weeks."
"Well then." He wheels his chair back. "Let's get her weighed and measured and then we'll discuss shots."
Pernille gently gets you out of your carrier, carefully stripping you down to your nappy so you can be weighted accurately.
The doctor nods along with what he sees, noting it down in your baby book.
"Good weight. Good length. How is her eating?"
"Good," Pernille confirms," She's been doing really well. Sleeping good too."
The doctor continues noting things down. "And I seem to remember you saying your partner was returning home. Has that been an okay transition for you both?"
Pernille nods. "It was a little weird during the first few days but now we've adapted. It's going well."
"Good, good. Now, vaccines?"
Pernille winces inwardly. "I was told she's due a few."
"We can do all three today."
Pernille's eyes bulge. "All three? But-"
"Two are injections. One is oral," The doctor explains," It's best we get it all done today."
Pernille finds herself nodding. She knew that this would happen but she wasn't quite sure she'd prepared for it. But, still, she nods and signs the page in your baby book giving her consent.
The first one is simple and easy, liquid drops being placed into your mouth for you to swallow.
You've woken up now, pulling a face at the taste and smacking your lips together in annoyance.
Pernille can deal with that.
What she can't deal with is the way you go from annoyed to heartbroken as the doctor jabs two needles into your legs in short succession.
You're sobs are heartbreaking and you don't stop even when you're in the car.
"It's okay," Pernille coos at you, taking your hand and gently waving it around," It's okay. you're okay. It's to make sure you don't get ill later on."
But you're a baby and you don't understand why Momma has let you get hurt by the mean man with the cold hands.
So you keep sobbing.
Fat tears roll down your chubby cheeks as pain radiates from your leg where you've been jabbed.
"Shh, shh," Pernille says, her own tears pricking in her eyes," Princesse, baby, it's okay. It's over now. Momma's here."
But you don't stop and Pernille decides to just pick you straight out of your car seat, propping you up on her chest.
Tears roll down Pernille's cheeks, matching yours until you're both crying together.
"It's okay," She keeps repeating to you," It's okay. Let's get home, alright?
You sniffle, still whining.
"I know. That doctor was a meanie, sticking you with medicine that's going to save your life one day."
You whimper as Pernille clips you into your car seat again.
"Just a little longer," She promises you," And we'll be home for cuddles and nap time."
#woso x reader#hardersson x reader#pernille harder x reader#pernille harder#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso#the big adventures universe
425 notes
·
View notes
Note
Craving a postprison!Spencer x stripper!reader fic, please ma’am.
Maybe she gets a daytime job at a coffee shop or a bookstore - to “supplement her income”/ not have to dance as often (not that she’s ashamed!!) and Spencer is just so proud of her for trying and can’t quit kissing her and praising her because I know in other fics you’ve mentioned she didn’t think anyone would hire her because of her profession/self esteem, plus after prison she didn’t want to dance because she wanted to be with Spencer. 🥺
Or really just anything with a proud Spencer x stripper!reader doing anything.
Your work is fantastic and I’m in love with everything you do!! 💕 thank you and it’s totally okay if you think this request is lame or don’t wanna write it!
thank you angel! —you find a new job while making decisions about your old one after Spencer returns from prison, and Spencer would praise you for breathing, so he’s extremely proud. fem, 1.8k
Statistics differ, but estimates suggest that there are around twenty thousand strippers in Las Vegas. With a population of seven hundred thousand people (estimated up), that means that one in thirty five people living in Las Vegas dances for a living.
It’s more than you’d think. Spencer knew of plenty of women who worked as strippers, exotic dancers, or private entertainers when he was still living at home. And while the numbers are much smaller in Washington DC where he lives now, it’s far from zero. More surprising for the average person to be one, perhaps, but not for Spencer.
It used to make him blush like a steam train, sure, but it never did any of the things you were scared of. He’s never looked down on you for it, never been jealous (well, never acted like a jerk because of it), never positioned it as anything other than work. His only complaints are in your concern. You don’t like the club, most of the time. You feel unsafe often. The risk of femicide is yards higher for you as a sex worker than it would be otherwise, but who is Spencer to talk about danger? He still has stitches in his leg.
Your job used to feel more urgent, a red flashing light above your head, because you’d come around with bruises or cut knees, tear stained cheeks, and you couldn’t make ends meet for all your efforts, but things have changed. You’re reluctant to depend on him, but you’ll accept the help when you need it. Nothing keeps you there if you don’t want to be there, and when you do you’re a marvel. You are beautiful, in Spencer’s eyes. Your dancing when you’re having a good night is one of the prettiest things he’s ever seen —more than pretty, sometimes. A hot coal in his stomach.
But the fact of the matter is that Spencer’s home, and you don’t want to dance. You haven’t been to the club for weeks as far as he’s aware, and he’d consider himself well informed. You spent all your savings and started spending his instead and he couldn’t care less, what’s his is yours, whatever keeps you aloft while you make whatever decision it is you’re working toward. Not that it presented itself that way.
I’ll have to go back.
Spencer on his back, you sitting with your head turned from the TV and toward him, your hand on his hip, just resting. Where?
To work. I have enough money for the next two weeks, and then I’m all out.
Spencer wouldn’t do something as unkind as rolling his eyes, but the point of you moving in was to cement that he’d look after you no matter what. He’d turned his head to you on his pillow and reached for your elbow. You’re still resting.
You’ve been home for two months, Spencer. I’ve rested enough. I… I only managed this long because you haven’t asked me for anything and that’s not fair, we both live here.
I earn more than you, so I pay more, he’d said, confused. It’s not as though it hurt him to continue paying for an apartment he’s been living in for years.
I won’t be your leech.
You’re not my leech, don’t say that.
I can’t just not have money.
Well… he’d said. He’d never discussed it with you so openly before, always stopped at the first suggestion, but there’s a first time for everything. You know you can have whatever you want from me. Anything you want, you don’t have to ask.
Spencer… you’re my boyfriend.
Exactly.
No, you’re my boyfriend. You don’t have to keep me. I don’t want that.
He understood the ‘want’ most heavily. What do you want, angel? he’d asked, dragging your hand up his naked chest to rest over his diaphragm, your arm moving up and down in time with his breathing.
You’d seemed stricken, but not upset. Like the question surprised you in having no answer. Not sure… you’d said eventually. Mostly you.
A week passed, two. A third and you’d asked him to borrow money, just for a little while, and with the vehement promise you’d pay him back.
He’s not expecting it. So soon, either. But here you are standing in front of him with a beaming smile and little book in your hands, unzipping one of the book's inner pockets to count out the money you’d ’borrowed’. “Here you go, my angel, there’s everything.”
Spencer just looks at it. “What is it?”
“The money I owe you.”
He presses his hands to his stomach to stop you from forcing the notes into them. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“No, seriously, please take it.”
He shakes his head. “Seriously. I don’t want anything from you, I love you. That money was for you to do what you wanted, or needed. It was yours as soon as I gave it to you.”
You try regardless to put it in his hands. Your hair was done freshly a week ago, your nails manicured but unpainted, your face adorned with some new makeup he’d seen on his (your) vanity a few days ago. It honestly hadn’t crossed his mind why you’d suddenly given yourself a refresh, and he had no suspicions. You would’ve told him if you went to the club, even just via text, because it’s important he knows you’ve had access to your phone or that you’re coming home. (Plus, he’d notice you leaving at night. You’ve spent the last few evenings laying across his lap.)
“Where did you get this?” he asks, smiling softly, wondering if he’s come to the right conclusion.
You drop the money on his thigh and take a couple of steps back.
“I,” you say, holding your little book to your stomach, “got a job as a barista. They gave me my first paycheck today, a direct deposit. So I took out what I owe you and the rest of it is in here.”
“You what?” he asks.
“I’m working at the coffeehouse by the library,” you say, nodding, parts proud of yourself and parts shy.
“For how long? Why didn’t you tell me?”
You bite your lip. “Just this week. And honestly, I didn’t want you to know if I couldn’t do it.”
Spencer stands up but doesn’t cross the room to you. He could reach out and catch your hand. “How could you work somewhere new all week without me noticing?”
“You weren’t here on Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday morning, and they gave me Thursday off, so I just told you a very small lie this morning about going to the store. I knew you’d get distracted by your Persian poetry again.”
He did get distracted, very much so. You’ve been and worked a whole shift without his worrying, which is a bit awful in itself (he really does love you, and he’d like to know where you are), but is also, frankly, a great thing. You should be able to work without worry. You should do anything you want to do.
Still, a whole week at a brand new job without any support, and to stand there with your paycheck as unmistakable waves of satisfaction melt off of you unkissed is insanity. Spencer’s laughing as he ushers you into his arms, as he hugs your shoulders tightly, “Oh my god!” he says, “Wow, congratulations!” He pulls back just a touch to see your face. “Please don’t lie to me about where you’re going, that’s so dangerous. I love you!”
He takes your face into both hands with your arms hanging loosely behind his back and begins a reckoning of kisses. The slope of your cheek, the skin between your nose and lips, Spencer couldn’t care less where the kisses land, he just wants them all over you. You laugh softly as he goes, almost stickily, a sound that comes deep from your chest. “I’m so proud of you,” he says, pressing a quick, mildly rougher kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“I might still strip,” you say.
“Whatever you want,” he says, squeezing your face between his palms. “What’s it like? Do you like it? Is it hard?” He kisses you again. “I wish you’d told me,” he says against your lips.
You’re quieter than he expected, and warm. He pulls away more sternly to see what’s gone wrong. He could’ve asked the wrong questions. Maybe he’s embarrassed you.
“I just wanted to make sure I could do it. I didn’t want to fail and… and have you know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, I get it.” God knows he’s failed a hundred times for you to see it. He wishes he would have hidden a lot of that from you, spared you some heartache, but he also knows how lucky he is to have you near. “That’s what we’re supposed to do, right? We should be together when stuff goes wrong.” He beams. “But it didn’t go wrong.”
“I think I’m pretty good at it.”
“Yeah?”
You hold his wrist. “And I get tips, did you know that? Not as many as before,” —you laugh to yourself loudly— “but still. It’s really cool. They pay me even if nobody wants coffee, and when people want coffee I get extra.”
Spencer kisses the corner of your eye. He kisses up to your eyebrow and down again, all over your cheek before turning your face to the other side to kiss circles into the other. “I,” —kiss— “can’t,” —kiss— “believe it.” Kiss. “Actually, I can, but I still can’t.”
“It’s just a part time job.”
“That you didn’t think you could do,” he says. “But you can do anything, I knew you could. I’m amazed by you.”
He grins and throws his arms over your shoulders.
You squeeze him right back, the two of you swaying, almost falling over. He can feel how proud you are of yourself. You deserve to feel this way no matter what.
“I like dancing,” you say, “I do, I just wish I could do it in a different… world? Is that stupid?”
“No. You’re never stupid.” He smiles as your hand weaves into his hair, fingertips scratching along his scalp, his curls caught between your fingers.
“Do you think you could come on Monday? I can make you a cup of coffee. It’s not as hard as it looks.”
“Please, I’d love for you to make me a cup of coffee.” His smile presses to your shoulder, where he breathes you in briefly, before remembering something very important. “Hey, do you wear an apron?”
“Of course I do.”
Oh my god, he thinks. There are more than half a million baristas in the United States, and Spencer will bet his monthly paycheck that you’re the cutest one to ever exist. You look cute right now in your jeans and your button up shirt, but put an apron on top of that? To see you standing behind a bar mixing drinks and pouring latte art? Monday can’t come quick enough.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
408 notes
·
View notes
Text
Comparisons Pt.2
Jason Todd x Jealous!Insecure!Fem!Reader || Angst/Fluff || Word Count: 2,730
Part 1
Warnings: insecurities (reader). Bad self esteem (reader). Criticizing oneself in the mirror (reader). Black eye (jason)
Have at ‘er guys.
The first thing you did once you got back into your apartment was throw your bag on the floor. The next thing you did was slump back against the door and slowly slid your way down until you were sitting on the ground, knees to your chest, head tucked into your folded arms.
Your eyes had been burning the entire walk back. Your throat was tight and especially your lungs from how fast you had power-walked.
Now that you were out of the public eye, you let the tears finally fall after trying so hard to hold them back.
Thank the crime for Gotham’s low rent. You didn’t think you’d be able to make it to your bedroom to hide your oncoming sobs if you had been living with roommates.
You were exhausted. You felt entirely stupid, too. As if you weren’t enough for Jason. Artemis had everything. Everything you didn’t and more.
You were beginning to think he had settled for you.
You knew he could pull attractive women. Could pull damn gorgeous women. He was entirely handsome himself, even though he never saw it.
Nearly every time you two were out he would have people coming up to him. Flirting with him. Asking for his number. Even when you were right there, his arm around your shoulders or your waist. Or if he was alone because you had gone to the bathroom. That was when they came out of the woodworks the most. It’s like even they could tell you were subpar for him.
The thing is: Jason would never even look at them. No matter how long they stood there. Usually, when he had ignored them for long enough and was getting annoyed, he would pull you into a deep kiss. He wouldn’t stop until he was sure they had left.
You couldn’t even explain why you felt like this. Jason had done nothing to prove that he didn’t love you.
But if Artemis, someone Jason had very possibly loved before you, was still in his life… what chance did you have at being allowed to stay?
Another sob left your throat. You were never in Jason’s league. Why ever pretend? Especially for this long?
You had overstayed your welcome.
Your phone buzzed in your bag. A call coming through. You sniffled, as you pulled it out of your tote.
Jason’s profile was displayed across the screen. A picture you had taken of him when you had dragged him out to the park a few months ago. You were both smiling at the camera as you took a picture. You had thought he looked so handsome in it. A soft smile, kind eyes looking a little off from the camera, the sun basking him in a sweet early spring glow. You had never liked the way you looked in that photo. When you made it his contact, you had cropped yourself out.
You frowned as your phone kept ringing. You didn’t want to deal with him right now. You set the phone on the ground in front of you, face up, letting it go to voicemail.
Your phone went black again. You started feeling a little guilty. Then, seconds later, it rang again.
You didn’t pick up. Even despite the guilt that began to chew at your stomach lining.
That call only rang four times before ending again.
A minute. Then a text message.
Jason: Just tell me whether or not you made it home, baby. Please?
You stared at it for a moment.
Another text.
Jason: I’m coming by soon either way. We’re talking about this.
You frown. He sounded mad.
Your head pounded lightly. A headache from how hard you’d been crying.
Maybe he was coming here to break up with you.
You’d obviously been delusional the past few weeks. Jason was using a case as an excuse to distant himself from you. To get familiar with Artemis again.
That had to be it.
Another text.
Jason: I know you’re seeing these, love.
Screw him. Screw him and his perfect grammar. And his stupid pet names.
You picked up your phone, opening the messages. You send back a simple “Home.” Before closing your phone again, placing it on the ground.
Jason: Thank you. See you soon.
Tears burned at your eyes again, but you swallowed them back.
You pushed yourself off the floor. No point in letting him see you, huddled in a heap of despair, still in your food splattered work clothes. Making your way to your bedroom, you began to change out of your work clothes. You automatically reached for the grey t shirt hanging off the post at the end of the bed, but hesitated. You stared at it. The far too big for you, men’s t shirt that was worn around the collar and smelled so much like Jason.
Your hand hovered over it before you stepped away.
He’d probably be wanting it back after this.
You stepped towards your dresser, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.
You hate it.
You can’t even see yourself as yourself anymore.
You stand there, picking yourself apart bit by bit. Rifling. Dissecting. Looking to find something good, something likeable, until you’ve tossed every part into the “discard” bin of your mind.
You can’t even do anything about it. All your tears are gone. You simply hang your head as you step into your sweatpants and slip on your t shirt.
You crawl onto your bed, not bothering to climb under the covers. Not bothering to shower.
The sun was still shining in, reminding you of how you were wasting such a beautiful day.
Your mind was working against you. Coming up with reasons for why Jason would be with you. Why he would have done everything that he had ever done with you if he didn’t love you.
The most prominent reason was that he was just taking pity on you. He had the time on his hands to do a favour for the lonely, ugly girl because he had broken up with his gorgeous amazonian warrior girlfriend. He couldn’t be giving out favours anymore now that he had her back.
You laid there on your side, arms hugging yourself. You realized you weren’t out of tears. They continued slip out of your eyes and pool to the pillow below you. The occasional sob leaving you when your mind concocted something else outrageous.
You don’t know how long you laid there for.
In the silence of your apartment, you could hear the lock of your front door click before the door swung open.
You tensed, arms hugging yourself as you laid on your side, back to the door.
You heard Jason slip off his boots, the steel toes he always wore clattering against the floor, signalling his arrival.
Padded footsteps followed, moving down the short hallway. Then the creak of your bedroom door behind you that had already been ajar.
Jason’s voice was soft as he called your name, “You’re not asleep, are ya?”
You simply glanced back at him over your shoulder, twisting. He took up the whole frame. He was dressed the same as earlier. Dark blue jeans, dark grey shirt with a faded brewery logo on it, and his leather jacket that he hadn’t bothered to take off at the door. His sunglasses were gone, showing off the fresh black eye that you hadn’t seen. He held a bouquet of wildflowers in one hand.
Who brings flowers to someone when they’re about to leave them?
You laid your head back down without another word.
More footsteps. The bed dipped behind you, Jason’s weight settling on the mattress, sitting in the crook where your knees bent.
A beat passed before he sighed, “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, doll?”
His hand reaches down to brush away the hair that was covering your face. The second his fingers brush over your cheek, you flinched back.
Jason draws his hand back, “Talk to me. I know how your mind gets, baby. What happened today?”
You stared straight ahead of you, towards the window Jason would often use to enter your apartment in the middle of night, the sunlight shining through. “Are you going to break up with me?”
Jason’s answer was quick. Honest. “No. Never.”
You should’ve felt more relaxed, but you didn’t. You just felt more stupid, “Did you love her?”
Jason paused, “Artemis?”
You nod.
Jason shifted on the bed, bringing more of his weight onto it before answering, “I thought I did. When I was with her. But… no.” Another pause. “You taught me what love was.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid. You knew Jason loved you.
You felt horrible. began to cry again, your voice cracking.
You just… you just needed to make sure, “Are you only with me because— because you pity me?”
“What?” Jason’s hands were suddenly on your shoulders, turning you onto your back. His fingers brushed your hair back and cupped your face. “Of course not!” You met his gaze for a moment through a haze of unshed tears. You’d never seen him more worried. More concerned. More… heartbroken at your words.
His eyes drift to the wet patches on your pillow, then back to your face. He takes in your red eyes and red nose. “Baby… have you been crying over this? Thinking I was going to leave you?”
You look away from him without answering. A silent “yes”.
Jason sighs lightly, “Because of Artemis?” His thumbs begin to stroke your cheeks, “She was just giving me some papers for a shipment. She owed me a favour from a long time ago.”
“How long were you with her?”
“Eight months,” he said, though there was a flit of a questioning tone at the end of it. He corrected himself, “Nine.”
“Why have you never talked about her?” You see him frown, his eyes shutting for a moment. You feel your face burn from embarrassment at all your questions.
Jason takes a breath, “That relationship… wasn’t a good one. It was my second real one, ever.” He shrugs, “It was built off of shared trauma, I guess. Once the Outlaws disbanded we didn’t really have much of a reason to stick around one another.” He pauses. “Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’d even consider it a real relationship. More of a fling.”
There’s a beat. You still don’t look at him.
“You know I love you,” he says. You bite deep into the inside of your cheek. “You know I love you… right?” His words sound so distraught at the idea of him making you feel unloved.
A small breath left your lungs. “I know.” Tears spill over as you talk, your arms still wrapped around yourself, hands squeezing the flesh of your biceps, “But that could’ve been an easy hand over. Five minutes.” You tried taking a deep breath, “Why… why make time to go and have coffee with your ex when you can’t even make time for me?”
Jason cursed quietly under his breath. Your face crumpled, but you tried for keep it together. “She wanted to.” Jason said. “Trust me. I didn’t. But I need that information.” He shuffled more onto the bed, hovering over you. “You have no idea how happy I was when I saw you walking past. You were like some angel coming from heaven. I’m serious.”
The moment replayed in your mind. Your bottom lip wobbled uncontrollably as you remembered his consistent frown every time he had looked at you.
“Then why—“ your voice hitched with a small sob. “You only smiled at her. You just started nitpicking me the second she left. Started when— when she was still there.”
Jason sighed again, his eyes shutting, “I know. I was acting like an asshole. I know. I’m sorry.” He leaned his face closer to yours, thumbs swipes away your tears. “I just get so worried about you sometimes.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours.
You sniffle again, “I’m sorry.”
“No,” Jason mumbled against your forehead before leaning back. “I’m sorry, baby. I was already ticked off that I was wasting time with her.”
You squirmed lightly, still hugging yourself, “I’m still sorry. I know you love me. I do trust you. I just—“
Jason shook his head, “No. Don’t be sorry. I shouldn’t have had coffee with her. I should’ve been picking you up from work.” He moved his hands to gentle grasp onto your hands, “Come on. Sit up for me, yeah?”
You followed his instructions, sitting up, crossing your legs in front of you. Jason grabbed a tissue from your bedside table, handing it to you to blow your nose. You felt like asking whether the case he was working was real or not. You decided against it, realizing his black eye should be proof enough.
Jason brushed your hair back as you blew your nose, clearing your face. “Why did you think I’m with you because I pity you, love?”
You look away, shameful, “Because… because you’re the first guy to ever ask me out.” You shrug lightly, “And… and no one else was wanting to. And I just…” You sniffle again. Jason takes your old tissue and hands you a new one, his other hand on your knee, his thumb stroking the side of it gently. “I saw how pretty she is and—”
“Not as pretty as you,” he gave you a soft smile, lifting your chin up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cut you off.”
You gave no reaction.
Jason paused, “…do you not think you’re pretty?”
You try and turn your face away again, shrugging, “I’m just so far out of your league. She’s not.”
“Damn right you’re out of my league,” Jason laughed softly, grasping onto your shoulders as they fell in defeat.
Finally. You thought. He realizes. This is it. This is—
He took one hand and tilted your chin until you were looking at him again. “Love, you’re leagues above me. You hear me? I’m serious. I’m so lucky to have someone as sweet and caring as you.”
You begin to shake your head. Jason firmly yet painlessly pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, stopping you. He begins to nod your head. Up and down. Forcing you to agree with him.
He presses his thumb into your bottom lip. He pulls it down and back up over and over again, mimicking speech as if you were some puppet. He pitched up his voice and octave, “Yes, Jason! I’m the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever seen!”
You can’t help it. A smile tugs at your lips. You pull his hand away and hold it with both of your own as you place a kiss to it.
Jason grins, tilting his face down to yours, “There she is. There’s my girl.”
You shake your head at him, “I’m sorry for thinking you were going to leave me for her…”
Jason smiles softly, “No more apologies. I know how your mind is.” He tilts his chin up and pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Evil mind.” He mutters against it, making you giggle.
You hum lightly, leaning into his touch. “What happened to your eye?”
Jason scoffed lightly, “Some thug last night. My helmet was already broken. He got a good right hook in.”
You smile up at him. You sit up straighter, pressing a feather light kiss to the edge of the bruising.
Jason hums in satisfaction, “Thank you, baby.” He smiles again, looking back at you. “What do you want to do now? You’ve got me until nine.”
You perks up, “Nine? But it's already four! Don't you have to read those papers? Don’t you have to—“
Jason smiled and shook his head, cutting you off, "Already did. I just have to intercept that shipment tonight and then you'll have me all day tomorrow, too. I’ve got nothing else but time to spend with my girl.”
Your smile grows a little wider, "Really?"
Jason nods, "I promise."
You play with his fingers as you think it over. Rubbing a thumb over his knuckles, picking up each digit and curling them and straightening them again, "Can we go for a ride?"
Jason grins, "Course, love. Where's your helmet?"
AHHH!! Hope you guys enjoyed!!!!
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#dc#red hood#jason todd fic#red hood x reader#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x you#red hood x you#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x civillian!reader#red hood x fem!reader#red hood fic#dc x y/n#dc x fem!reader#dc x you#dc x reader#dc fic
427 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! May I have a hot chocolate with Aaron Hotchner and a splash of angst please?
OVERPROTECTIVE | Aaron Hotchner x Reader
length: 2.5k (Em doesn't know how to go small on things)
warnings: mention of a knife? mention of feeling sick? mention of a wound?
“Sit down, Agent,” His voice was a growl that made you stop loading up your gun, Emily and Derek freezing in their seats to witness the catfight when they caught the heated glare exchanged between the two of you. Your fingers paused on the cartridge, clicking it into the ammunition vault before switching your glock onto the safety, turning to face your boyfriend with a sneer on your face.
“Agent?” You tested the water with a raised brow, seeing if he would double down with his attitude once he seemed to have realised he had crossed some sort of line with his words.
“Prentiss and Morgan are going after the suspect, I want you here with Reid mapping out the geographical profile,” He ordered his teams, though you were quick to catch how he couldn’t meet your eyes as he turned to Dave, his fingers fixing his cuffs the way he did when he was thinking about something, “Dave, I want you with JJ at hostage negotiation, he still has the girls and might not be willing to give them up so easily-”
“Surely we’d be more use in the field, I mean, we’ve gotten pretty much everything out of the profile that we can.” Reid tried to point out, only for Hotch to turn to him with a scathing frown.
“Is there something wrong with the orders I’ve given, Reid?” Aaron asked, his tone particularly cold, and Spencer was quick to look flustered, ever the teachers pet who loathed being told off.
“N-no I just thought,” He spluttered, quickly packing up his files as Hotch gave him a sharp look, “We’ll stay here, it’s fine,”
Your Unit Chief barely acknowledged him as he huffed, turning and heading for his office, “Wheels up in ten,”
But you weren’t going to let him slip away that easily, especially not with an attitude like that.
“Baby girl, think about what you’re doing here,” Morgan tried to call as you paced after him, your expression ruthless as you stalked behind the man, “Starting a fight with the boss is not going to win you any favours, sweetheart,”
Except he wasn’t just your boss, only they didn’t know that.
Aaron could tell you were hot on his heels even without hearing Morgan’s desperate attempt to help. To them, it must look like one of their colleagues was about to make a huge misjudgement on just how harsh their boss could be when he wanted to. Every single one of the BAU had gone head to head with Aaron at some point, it was only natural for eight people who spent day in, day out with one another, but not one of them had left the interaction feeling good about themselves.
As a boyfriend, Aaron was almost a complete antithesis of who he was at work. His words were butter smooth, his touch gentle as lace, his heart surprisingly tender for a man who had seen the worst humanity had to offer. And he respected you, he was kind, he was soft and mallowed out, and it had started bleeding into his demeanour at work in the five months you’d been dating. He’d come to work with a skip in his step, you showing up around five minutes later now you guys had coordinated sitting in his car for a little longer to avoid suspicion. Aaron seemed to find your eyes in moments of worry, and it usually only took a small smile or a passing touch of your hands that could easily be explained as an accident to calm him down.
But he had changed last week, when an UnSub had managed to catch your shoulder with a knife.
It was a surface scratch, nothing a few stitches and a dose of painkillers hadn’t cleared up, and you could already feel the scab peeling off, but since then Aaron had been stiflingly overbearing at work.
You shut the door behind you, already seeing the way he rubbed at his temple with calloused hands, and you knew the sigh was coming even before you heard it, low and tired, like he didn’t want this argument here.
“What the hell was that?” You said, your tone clipped as you stared furiously at his broad shoulder blades where he still had his back to you, “Spencer did nothing wrong, he was just trying to help, and he’s totally right, we’d be so much more use with Morgan and Prentiss-”
“If you have an issue with how I run my unit, you can take it up with Strauss,” Aaron snapped, barely looking over his shoulder, “Until then, I expect my orders to be followed, agent,”
You crossed your arms over your chest, and he knew by the way you’d gone quiet you were staring daggers at him. Taking a shaking breath, he looked at you finally, and felt his resolve crumble almost immediately when he saw how truly seething you were. So much so he didn’t even catch the hurt in your expression until you began speaking.
“Is it just ‘agent’, now?” You asked, your voice cracking as you swallowed quickly, “It’s not honey, or love, or sweetheart? Or is that only when you want the girlfriend version of me.”
Aaron stopped, whatever witted and crass remark that had about to fly out of his mouth vanishing, and he wished the rest of the team would just clear out of the floor, because he wanted nothing more than to pull you in for a tight hug and tell you in every way he thought possible that he was sorry he was being so cruel.
But he couldn’t. Because he could feel their eyes on the two of you from here. Here he had to be SSA Aaron Hotchner. Here he couldn’t protect you when creeps were coming at you with knives or stalking women who could easily be your twin. Here he had to stop himself from being so pliant under your touch.
“You know why I can’t,” He said coldly, his eyes begging and weak, yet they were the only thing that gave him away. His jaw was tense and his brows furrowed, and to anyone else on the floor it looked like he was giving you a stern talking to.
Except you just scowled, “Can’t be my boyfriend or can’t stop worrying that something is going to happen to me in the field?” You said, and his lips pressed together tightly, because sometimes he hated not being the only one in the relationship that was a profiler. Of course you knew what it was about, you’d seen it in his face when the two of you were being intimate and he caught sight of the bandage, how he’d been completely distracted and tense for the rest of the evening, “That’s what this is about, right? All of this for a tiny cut on my shoulder that’s going to be gone within a week?”
“Two inches to the right and that guy could slashed your throat,” He snapped, the truth a sore spot for him, and you shook your head, throwing your hands up in despair.
“How many hits have you taken, Aaron, huh?” You bit back, and he ground his teeth for lack of response, “It’s an occupational hazard, it’s not a big deal, I mean Reid and Penelope have taken bullets for us, I just think you’re being a little overprotective here,”
“I can’t lose you, can you not see that?” He snarled back, his voice rising so high with his frustration he felt his cheeks warm, and in a split second he looked like a wounded animal stuck in a bear trap, cornered and scared and waiting on the inevitable.
Your mouth dropped in guilt, the fight dying out of your chest because you got it then, you got it why he was being so defensive. He was too slow to stop something from happening to Hayley, and here, right in front of him, was his sparkly new girlfriend risking her life like that wouldn’t be anyone’s worst nightmare.
You felt terrible, and judging by the way he seemed to bite the inside of his cheek, he did too. Perhaps for shouting at you, perhaps just for being too intense for a relatively new relationship, but before you could attempt to come to an understanding, Spencer opened the door, his eyes shooting between the two of you as the silence became a medium for your tension.
“Rossi wants to know if you guys are ready to head out?” He asked sheepishly, waiting for another snarl of anger from his boss, only to see Hotch looking more like he had a sour gummy shoved in his mouth as he avoided all eye contact.
“We’re staying to do the profile, Spence,” You said solemnly, and he seemed to not want to poke at a sleeping bear, nodding and leading the two of you out to the drawing board, flicking one last look at Aaron where he was sorting some files around his desk, most likely looking for something to keep his shaking hands busy.
Sighing, you closed the door behind you and tried to ignore the pain in your shoulder.
–
He thinks you’ve probably caught the subway home with Spencer by the time they get back. The sixth floor is quiet, his bag heavy with the reports he could easily leave for Monday morning, except he wants to take his mind off the fight the two of you had. He cuts through the middle of the desks, Emily’s coffee cold and stale, Spencer’s cardigan stranded on his chair. He thinks about how he could show the youngest agent he’s sorry, because he shouldn’t have snapped like that, shouldn’t have made him feel small just because you were so totally in the right to be looking at him like that.
He was immediately confronted with your coat and bag when he opened the door to his office, the two of them leaning against his filing cabinet like they were waiting for him, and he thought it was strange until he saw the culprit, or more so saw your shoes placed neatly under the sofa, your socked feet peeking over the end of the cushions.
His gaze trailed to your face, calm and smoothed out, like he hadn’t seen the way a frown marred your face that moment he’d left the office as you’d been consulting the giant map he’d pinned up in the round table room. You were fast asleep, one hand tucked beneath your head as a pillow, your knees squishing out to accommodate your body on the two-seater.
Aaron drew a deep breath, gently sliding his bag off his shoulder and letting it sit on the floor beside your shoes, his hand immediately reaching for your calf with a gossamer soft embrace, his fingers squeezing you lightly and dancing up the length of your leg up to your hip. His other hand found home on your head, caressing the roots of your hair as he murmured your name.
He said it again, a little louder, when you didn’t stir, and it was only then that your eyes fluttered behind your lids. Blinking slowly in the low light of his office, his desk lamp the only source of beige glow, you smiled on instinct when you saw his brown, puppy-dog stare, kicked and hurt as he looked down at you.
Which was when it came back to you in a shooting pain, the last time you’d spoken, the tone and formality, as if he didn’t know you at all outside of these four walls.
“You waiting for me?” He asked, his hand continuing its rhythm over your crown, and you nodded under his attentive gaze.
“I didn’t want to go home alone, I wanted to make sure we were okay, and I knew you’d come here,” You said, and he smiled with an exhausted expression like he had the weight of the world bearing down on his back.
“Of course we’re okay, honey,” He replied, his hand migrating from your waist to grab your knuckles, bringing them to his dry lips to kiss softly. He sighed softly, looking down to where your fingers meshed together, “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Or Reid. But especially not you,”
You let go of his rough fingers to bring a hand up to his face, cupping his cheek gently so he would look at you with those mournful noir hues.
“Aaron, I’m gonna get bruised sometimes. This probably won’t be the last time, and it probably won’t be the worst one either,” He grit his teeth like the thought of it being even deeper, in an even more lethal spot, made him physically ill, “But I need you to trust in me, trust that I’m going to do everything to come home to you at the end of the day, the same way you do everything to come back to me. Alright?”
Aaron sighed, leaning in to press his forehead to yours as you nudged your nose against his.
“You make it so difficult for me to think straight when I’m meant to be your boss, you know that?” He murmured, and there was something boyishly teasing in his tone as he did so, so much so you smiled with him. Leaning in, you kissed him softly on the mouth, your hand moving to the back of his head to pull him closer
“You will apologise, won’t you? For hurting Spencer’s feelings,” You implored, breaking away from the embrace for a moment, until Aaron tried to dodge your question by kissing over your jaw. But you stood your ground, despite the fact you felt your eyes fluttering in pleasure, “Aaron, he’s sensitive,”
“First thing Monday morning, I promise,” He said, though you half guessed it was just to please you, since he was already aiming for your neck, his hand grazing the hem of your shirt.
“So, I know we’re in work, but I take it this is boyfriend Aaron I have now,” He hummed in confirmation, your skin pliant and warm under his lips, and he caught the splutter in your breath when he kissed your jugular the way you liked, “Okay well seeing as you’re boyfriend Aaron, I got to tell you, honey, my boss was being a total worms-for-brains today,”
Aaron stopped, drawing away to look you in the face where you his a snicker, and he quickly found the humour in it too as his fingers gripped around your stomach, “Oh, so it’s like that is it?”
You went to say something in rebuttal, only to feel his hands quickly start tickling your stomach, and you squealed in protest, grabbing at his wrists in an attempt to stop him. But it was no use. Aaron’s laughs, tired and groaning as they were, filled his office, and yours quickly symphonied them.
You didn’t even get a chance to tell him that Spencer definitely, definitely knew you two were dating.
366 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can you make a blurb for dad!max verstappen where reader always catching him and their newborn baby (boy or girl) cuddling and max playing with them and talking to them he spends all his time with them
a/n: hi sweetheart! thank you for your request, i hope i’ve done it just! 💗
dad!max verstappen x reader (requested)
You had always known Max Verstappen would be a great father, but seeing him with your newborn made your heart swell with even more love and admiration than you ever thought possible. Since the moment you brought your baby girl, Sophia, home from the hospital, Max had been completely smitten. He spent every waking moment with her, and even when he should have been resting, you would often find him sneaking into her nursery to check on her.
One night, you stirred from your sleep, noticing Max’s absence from the bed. You smiled softly, already knowing where he was. Quietly, you slipped out of bed and made your way to the nursery. The soft glow of the nightlight illuminated the room, casting a gentle light over Max and Sophia. Max was seated in the rocking chair, cradling your tiny daughter against his chest. He was speaking to her in a low, soothing voice, his Dutch accent coming through in a melody that seemed to calm her.
“You know, Sophia,” he murmured, “one day, you’re going to be able to watch me race. I’ll teach you everything about cars and speed. But for now, I just want you to be happy and healthy.” He paused to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, a smile playing on his lips. “I promise I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”
You leaned against the doorframe, your heart swelling at the tender scene before you. Max had always been passionate and driven, but this side of him was something you cherished deeply. The way he looked at Sophia, the way he held her as if she was the most precious thing in the world—it made you fall in love with him all over again.
Max looked up and noticed you standing there. A smile spread across his face as he beckoned you over. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?” he whispered, his eyes filled with adoration.
You nodded, sitting on the edge of the rocking chair and resting your head on his shoulder. “She really is,” you replied softly. “And you’re an amazing father, Max. She’s so lucky to have you.”
He chuckled quietly. “I’m the lucky one. I never thought I could love someone this much.” He looked down at Sophia, who was now fast asleep in his arms. “I can’t stop thinking about all the things we’ll do together. I want to be there for every moment, every milestone.”
You reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from Max’s forehead. “And you will be. We’ll do it all together.”
Days turned into weeks, and Max’s bond with Sophia only grew stronger. You often found him in the nursery, playing with her and talking to her as if she could understand every word. One afternoon, you walked into the living room to find Max lying on the floor, his head propped up on one hand as he watched Sophia kick her tiny legs in the air. He was making silly faces and noises, drawing giggles from your baby girl.
“Look who’s here, Sophia!” Max said, glancing up at you with a wide grin. “Mama’s here to join the fun.”
You laughed, sitting down beside them on the floor. “What are you two up to?”
“Just having some quality father-daughter time,” Max replied, his eyes twinkling with joy. He reached out and took your hand, pulling you closer. “She’s been telling me all about her dreams. Apparently, she dreams of milk and cuddles.”
You shook your head, laughing softly. “Sounds like she’s living the dream, then.”
Max scooted closer, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into his embrace. “We’re all living the dream,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Having you and Sophia in my life… it’s more than I ever imagined.”
As the months went by, Max’s dedication to his family never wavered. He balanced his racing career with fatherhood seamlessly, making sure he was there for every feeding, every nap, and every bedtime story. You often caught him sneaking into the nursery in the middle of the night, just to check on Sophia and whisper sweet words to her.
One evening, after a long day of racing and media obligations, Max came home exhausted. But the moment he saw Sophia, his tiredness melted away. He scooped her up into his arms, holding her close as he swayed gently back and forth.
“Papa missed you so much today,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “I thought about you all day, little one. You and Mama are always on my mind.”
You watched from the doorway, your heart overflowing with love. Max’s commitment to your family was unwavering, and you knew that no matter where his career took him, he would always put you and Sophia first.
As the years went by, Max continued to be the most devoted father and partner. He never missed a moment, always finding time to be there for Sophia and you. And every time you saw him with your daughter, your love for him grew even stronger. Max Verstappen was not only a champion on the track but also a champion in your hearts—a loving father and partner who cherished every moment with his family.
#formula one imagine#f1 imagine#formula 1#formula one x reader#max verstappen#f1 x reader#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#f1 fanfic
231 notes
·
View notes
Text
you win, i lose
we’re back with these two pathetic little weirdos, who cheered!! another follow up to gimme a hand, bump n’ grind and truth or dare or can be read as a standalone! i think i’m gonna give these two a break for now and work on some other things including some lovely requests i have<3
18+. mdni! smut with a little bit of plot this time! female!reader x eddie munson. no use of y/n. modern au i guess but it is so not mentioned or relevant
eddie sighs, a long, guttural sigh that on reflection, made him sound like a sad little dog.
“what the hell was that for?” barely looking up from your phone to talk to him.
he debates even saying it, terrified that you’d have his balls chopped off for uttering the words.
“don’t you think we’re boring now?” voice wavering as the words come out.
after six months of officially dating, your relationship had started to slow a little. no more making him cum in his pants or sneaky blowjobs in the bathroom at parties. it was sex or it was sleep.
the transition from best friends who shouldn’t be doing this to same old couple had been jarring, especially over the past week when eddie’s felt his dick was on overdrive.
“boring? huh? i don’t think we’re boring? we literally went to a gig tonight,” baffled by his insulting suggestion.
“not like that,” leering up at you from his side of the bed, “i mean.. when we have sex, it’s kinda boring,” shrugging, as if to lessen the blow of what he’d said.
your face crumples, both offence and perhaps a little hurt flash through your features. “wow, thanks eds. no, i actually didn’t think that at all.”
it’s in that moment that he realises, he’s fucked up. majorly.
“w- i’m- shit, no,” shoulders slumping, “you’re taking it the wrong way,” as if there were any other way for you to take it.
“i don’t think so, you couldn’t have been clearer actually,” sending daggers through his skull, “alright,” you place your hands on your hips, “you don’t get to touch me for a week, no kissing, no cuddling.. definitely no sex,” pouting slightly, “since that’s how you wanna be.”
“what?” eddie sits up, at full attention now, “you know i didn’t mean it like that,” fumbling to turn this around.
“i don’t care, you said it,” standing strong, “now you have to live with the consequences.”
his head rolls back against the headboard, immediate regret for anything he had just said.
god only knows if he’d live to survive the week.
-
that night in bed, eddie turns, huffing his frustrations into the pillow. it hadn’t even been twenty four hours yet and he already felt like he was going crazy.
his hand sprawls out over the mattress, edging to touch you, though he stops just before.
“you wanna give up already?” you taunt, staring though the darkness to throw another jab at him.
“no, i don’t. i just wanna cuddle my girlfriend in bed, is that too much to ask?”
“i told you the rules, no.”
“fuuck,” grumbling to himself, “this is stupid,” pouting to himself, in his self-inflicted drought.
“maybe don’t say stupid shit and this won’t have to happen again,” smug and self-righteous as you turn away, leaving him to yearn for just a brush of skin.
-
the party had been a bad idea from the start. eddie had never been so pent up in his life and it had only been three, long, miserable days.
you’d made sure to wear that tiny black dress, the one he really liked. struggling to even keep his eyes on the road on the drive over.
a few beers and a no-contact order could only mean one thing and he was dreading it.
you were adamant on making eyes at him across the kitchen counter all night, driving him literally insane. any other time, you’d have snuck off to the bathroom or gone home early but he knows there is a slim chance of that happening tonight.
you sidle up to him, mischievous glint in your eye as you slide something into his pocket before slinking off again, faster than he can compute.
he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the lacy fabric just enough to realise what it was. quickly spinning on his heel so as to not let anyone else see.
your fucking panties. wrapped around his fingers for everyone to see.
there’s no hesitation about it, excusing himself to the bathroom before anyone could ask what he was doing.
holy shit. you’re fucking crazy. on another playing field completely. eddie almost wishes that he’d asked for your panties earlier, far before you’d decided to play these brutal games with him.
he slides them from his pocket, not before making sure the door was locked for the second time, holding them to his nose, like the freak he truly was.
oh god.
he misses you so bad. he’d take the most boring, uneventful missionary for the rest of his life if it meant you’d never deprive him of this ever again.
it takes a moment for him to regain enough consciousness to rejoin the party, keeping his fingers wrapped tight around the lacy material as argyle prattles on about some crazy new strain he’d discovered.
your eyes sparkle, waiting for him to meet your gaze. but he’s not giving you that. not allowing you the satisfaction of ruining him so badly.
-
the second the van is far enough away from the house, eddie wails loudly in despair.
“that wasn’t fair!” he whines, throwing his head back against the seat of his van, gripping onto the steering wheel for dear life.
“it’s totally fair,” you refute, smiling away to yourself.
“no it’s not,” huffing like a petulant child, “i can’t give you my boxers to sniff.. it’s not equal.”
“i’m sorry- you sniffed them?” flabbergasted, “you’re a pervert,” collapsing into a fit of giggles.
“yeah i fucking did,” proud of his perversions, he was the most sexually frustrated he had ever been, sniffing your panties was nothing compared to what he felt like doing.
“weirdo.”
eddie wants so badly to reach over, slide his hand underneath your dress and really take advantage of the no-panties situation. he was getting hard just thinking about it.
it’s crazy how much you insulting him was actually turning him on more.
“please just let me touch you,” he pleads, “i’m sorry for what i said, i need you,” there had been a time where eddie had to make do with getting to feel your touch every couple months, he’s not sure how he ever survived.
three days and he felt like he was about to implode.
not only had he dreamed of your pussy, it had been haunting him in his mundane life too.
stuck under some dusty old car at work, only thinking about how good you felt, ignoring any of the actually important things he had to do.
“nuh-uh, you made your bed, now lie in it,” propping your feet up on the dash, causing your skirt to slide even higher.
eddie couldn’t believe you’d be so evil and cruel, even in his darkest hour you were depriving him of you.
-
at some point in the night, eddie’s brain must have decided that enough was enough. his half-asleep, dream filled mind doesn’t really comprehend what he’s doing, hand snaking around your waist, using your body as leverage to pull himself closer, pressed against your ass.
“eddie.. eddie,” you hush, shaking his arm. “you’re cheating,” voice still hoarse and sleepy.
“i give up,” he grumbles, slowly grinding his hips against your ass, “you win, i lose,” admitting defeat at long last. if only he had sucked up his pride enough to do this four days ago.
“four days.. four fucking days,” you scold, though make no effort to move away from him, “you can’t even last a full week, you loser,” chastising him was music to his ears.
“mhm,” he grumbles into the back of your neck, “keep being mean to me, i love it,” spare hand creeping down to shift your shorts to the side.
you laugh into the pillow, moving your hips backwards against his crotch, “you’re so pathetic,” you goad, only firing him up more.
“oh god,” he groans, still rutting against the soft fabric, “i’m gonna cum right now,” whining into your ear.
“if you cum without fucking touching me, i’m gonna be so pissed off,” your grip tightening on his forearm, almost pinching him.
he huffs into your hair, slowing his rhythm to a complete stop, hastily tugging on your pajama shorts, eager to get them off and his dick wet.
this can’t have been any better on you, really, not only were you punishing him, but yourself too.
your shorts rest somewhere around your ankles as eddie struggles to get his own boxers down, grunting in sheer desperation as his cock aches for you.
his hand slides underneath your tee, pulling it up with his arm, gripping onto your boob for leverage. eddie’s never been one to take control but if he hadn’t, he’s not sure you’d have ever touched him again.
wasting no time in hoisting your leg higher, his already leaking tip nudging your sopping entrance. confirmation that you’d been just as eager for it as he was.
“‘m so hard for you,” pushing himself between your folds, shuddering at the overwhelming feelings jolting through his limbs.
“shit,” you breathe, placing your palm above his as it gropes your fleshy skin.
“need you-oh god.. so bad,” senselessly thrusting his hips, slamming against your ass while the bed begins to rock, thanking his lucky stars that wayne was still at work.
“yeah? tell me, tell me how bad you need it,” gasping for air, your soft, angelic pants fill his tiny bedroom.
eddie groans, aching to please you but also unable to fathom the correct words needed to truly convey his feelings.
“y-you’re all i think about,” tightening his grip on your skin, “at work..” panting his words out between rhythmless thrusts, “at home- fuck oh fuck,” squeezing his eyes shut, hoping to make this last at least a few minutes longer.
nothing had ever felt so euphoric, frying his nerve endings, sending his brain into a hazy state that he just may never recover from.
“fuck,” you grit, clawing at his hand, “missed you so bad,” rolling your head back to rest on his shoulder, showing no mercy to his neighbours with your echoing moans. guaranteed to receive disgusting looks from david across the way for the rest of his life.
at this point, eddie becomes an incoherent babbling mess, eyes pressed shut as his stomach flips and turns in all directions. is now the time to start thinking about having kids?
“let me.. let me cum in you,” driven wild by the thought of filling you up over and over. a rare treat that really only lead to a week of stress for you both, but so incredibly worthwhile.
chanting his name right into his ear, other hand stuck between your thighs, circling your clit with an animalistic ferocity. you’d wanted this just as bad as he did, only you were clearly more strong-willed than he’d ever be.
not a second of this had been boring or anything he ever wanted to miss again. swearing to himself that he’d never be so to open his mouth foolish again.
“y-yeah,” nodding encouragingly, “please,” nearing your own, overdue orgasm.
eddie had been clued on to all the little signs for months now, tightening around him while your moans turned more into whimpers, jaw slack and your eyes rolled back.
“shitshitshit,” he rushes, certain he’d left indentations in your skin, “gonna cum- gonna cum in you,” making sure that you know what you’d signed up for, not that he had much choice.
his orgasm rocks his body, juddering as he paints your walls, howling as the overwhelming feeling washes over again and again. four days of built up energy all coming out in one.
you shriek, “oh god,” your body turning to putty between his arms, trembling as you cum, “mine.. all mine,” cradling his arm in yours, placing half-assed kisses to his neck.
he was, unashamedly so. no one had nor could ever come close to the way you make him feel. dragging him to the lowest levels of his pride just to boost him right back up when you said shit like that.
eddie doesn’t let go, scared that you’ll come out of your haze and get mad about his failed temporary abstinence.
you shuffle round under his grip anyway, face burning and your hair resembling a birds nest, though completely content as his release drips down your leg.
your palm slaps his cheek playfully, “don’t you ever call me boring again,” squishing his flaming hot skin between your fingers, “because you’ll never touch me again,” unsure of whether you were joking or not.
“yes ma’am,” running his fingers down your side, until they reach the curve of your ass, “that’s a promise.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fic#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson x y/n
303 notes
·
View notes
Text
you're the thoughts that can't be tamed
and i'm trying to be sane
⋆˙⟡♡ MDNI. whewww. the people demanded more high / toxic!megumi and the people got more high / toxic!megumi. tw for angst, daddy issues, drug use, smut. 4.3k words. all characters aged up 21+. ๋࣭ ⭑ life held no promises - it was a fact that you and megumi were made well aware from a very early age. from sleeping under blanket forts as kids to sneaking through windows as teenagers, he'd always been your one constant in a sea of variables. but what happens when the tides become strong enough to pull him away too? ๋࣭ ⭑ this was fucking emotional to write, not gonna lie. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ⋆˙⟡♡
𓆩🖤𓆪
“No one else has what we have.”
Those were Megumi's favorite words to say to you.
On the nights where both of your dads would take off together, deciding that they were done being responsible for the two of you for a few days, you would hide under blankets in his room and laugh at the things that only 9-year-old you would understand.
You'd keep yourselves occupied with video games and books and dive so far into each other’s imaginations that you'd completely forget about the world around you.
It was all late-night summer air, swinging in your backyard for hours, and the way that you two were somehow able to turn something as damning as parental abandonment into adventure.
As teenagers, reality became harder to sugarcoat but there was still that same unfettered energy between both of you that made it doable.
At 14, you'd sit on the edge of his bed during the wintertime, drinking beer that you'd stolen from Toji's stash and exchange secrets in-between drunken kisses that neither one of you would be brave enough to acknowledge the next day.
You'd walk to school together with matching tired eyes and unkempt hair and he would tell people to fuck off when they’d ask you why you'd been wearing the same hoodie for a week straight.
He'd sneak through your bedroom window on the nights that your house didn’t feel safe just to lay with you, running light fingers through your hair while sharing a set of tangled headphones to drown out the sound of your parents arguing.
The things that he couldn’t tell his other friends, the things that he couldn’t tell his family, the things that he could barely tell himself – he'd tell you.
You were two halves of two very broken homes. Rigid and unstable when apart but perfectly balanced when together. From spending practically every weekend together to essentially raising one another since none of the adults in either of your lives had any interest in doing so – he was right:
No one else had what you had.
𓆩🖤𓆪
Nobara's ceiling fan creaked steadily above you as you stared back at it, trying but failing to swallow down your emotions.
You rolled over, careful not to wake her as you reached for your phone to see the time "3:33" displayed across the screen. With a heavy sigh, you unplugged it from the charger and crept out of bed, keeping your movements light as you made your way into the living room.
You wrapped one of her knit blankets around your shoulders, sinking down onto the couch like you'd done so many times over the last few weeks you'd been staying here. There were bags under your eyes that you were convinced would never go away. Tear stains on your cheeks that felt like they'd been permanently adopted by your skin.
Thinking about Megumi was nothing new, it was the unfamiliar pain that came along with it that you couldn't quite adjust to. The way your chest tightened and your insides burned with each memory that surfaced. What used to be the most comfortable part of your brain was now the one place you were desperate to stay away from.
"So you're leaving then?"
You'd replayed the last conversation you'd had with him so many times, it still felt like you were in his room most days. A ghost that wandered the halls, hopelessly waiting for him to come back no matter how much time passed.
You had struggled to look back at him that night, his pupils dilated from the Oxy he had taken. There was something so unnerving about being so close to him and so far away from him at the same time. How physically, he was within arm's reach, but mentally, there might as well have been galaxies separating you.
Your voice betrayed you, shaking as you fought to keep your resolve. "That's what you want, right? For me to leave?"
He was silent, his worn-down demeanor saying more than his voice was capable of at the time. You watched his hand twitch at his side as if his own body was attempting to fight against his sentiment. "Just go."
You stared at him, forcing yourself to take in his pale face and hollowed out blue eyes. You'd seen the whole thing. The entire progression of the boy who used to build blanket forts with you to protect you from the outside world to the boy who'd taken your virginity on a rainy September night when you were 15 because "you both deserved to know what it felt like to be loved" to the vacant 22-year-old who was standing in front of you with nothing left to offer to you or himself.
You'd been there for every day and every moment that had led the two of you down that one pivotal breaking point, but you still couldn't fathom it. You didn't have it in you to fight with him. Didn't have it in you to push back or yell or fall apart in front of him like you both thought you would.
Instead, you did something much more damning: you mirrored him. Leaving him with an empty, "Okay." as you closed the door to his apartment and disappeared back to your car, realizing that his words still reigned true, only they held a new meaning - no one else had what you had, not even you.
You nestled into the couch, using your phone to put the same song on repeat as you tried to close your eyes again. Out of all the grievances you'd experienced throughout your life, you had never considered until recently how much harder it was to mourn the living than it was to mourn the dead.
𓆩🖤𓆪
Megumi had barely slept in the last three days. His thoughts were blurred by hazy white pills and scattered flashbacks of the things he should've never said to you and worst of all...
The way your face used to light up when you'd wake up next to him and what a jarring contrast it was to have his eyes flutter open to an empty bottle of whiskey on his nightstand instead.
"I feel awake when I'm with you."
He'd said it to you one morning when you'd both just woken up, his fingers running lazy circles over the top of your shoulder, his arms still wrapped protectively around you from the previous night's sleep.
"I'm listening." You hummed, propping your head up to meet his blue eyes in quiet encouragement.
He wasn't always the best with his words - you both knew that, but he still tried as he kept his fingertips featherlight against your skin. "I'm always so tired, but... not when I'm with you."
He remembered the way your pupils bloomed while he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, letting himself say the things he'd usually be too afraid to admit. "I... feel like the only time life really makes sense is when we're like this, you know...? When we're both half asleep tangled up in each other."
You cried, your hands finding the back of his neck as your lips met his in a gentle mid-morning daze.
It was the first time you'd said it - it poured out in between breaths and tears, opening up like a floodgate once it began: "I love you." you whispered against his lips. "I love you." You repeated while you pulled him on top of you. "I love you." as he slid your shirt above your shoulders. "I love you." only, it was his voice this time fanning across the nape of your neck. "I love you." he exhaled again, carefully sliding into you. "I love you." you moaned, your eyes completely fixated on him as he thrusted harder.
"I love you, I love you, I love you..."
The nostalgia was so intense it rang through his ears, his stomach churning violently. No matter how much he tried to bury you, you were still everywhere. Stuck to the walls. Stitched in his blankets. Embedded into his skin.
Panic swelled in his chest, his hand shaking as he dug the cellophane baggy out of his hoodie pocket and promptly shoved two oval-shaped pills into his mouth.
"That's what you want, right? For me to leave?"
The answer wasn't yes because he didn't love you, the answer was yes because he did love you. Because after all that you'd been forced to deal with between your dad and his, the last thing you needed was for another man you trusted to let you down the way he was.
"Just go."
It wasn't that he wanted you to, it was that you needed to.
𓆩🖤𓆪
"You're not responsible for him." Nobara said as she handed you a cup of coffee, taking a seat next to you on the couch. "You realize that, don't you?"
Despite her rough edges when it came to men, she was truly the gentlest friend you had. She was patient. Kind. Non-judgmental. She listened to your feelings no matter how repetitive or morbid they may have been. There really weren't enough 'thank you's when it came to how much she'd been there for you over the last few weeks.
You dropped the blanket from your shoulders and took a sip, struggling to look back at her. "I know, I just -" you faltered, your eyes still locked onto the steam rolling off of your mug. "I just hope he's okay..."
It was the longest you'd gone without seeing him and no matter how many times she'd tried to remind you that you couldn't hold yourself accountable for his well being, you still felt an odd sense of responsibility for him. It was a feeling that you'd held onto for so long, you weren't sure how you were supposed to even separate yourself from it now.
Nobara let out a stifled breath, shooting you a pointed look as she took her own sip. "Has he ever been okay?"
The question was damning enough to bring your attention to hers, your breath hitching in your throat as you looked back at her.
"Look, I know you love him." Her hand was on your shoulder, her eyes softening a bit. "But you can't save him."
Flashbacks of an 11-year-old, chubby-cheeked version of him smashed through your mind. The way the warmth of his hand contrasted the coldness of your feet as he helped sneak you in through the sliding back door. You apologized to him for having to risk getting him in trouble just to let you in, but you couldn't be at your house for another minute. Even at his young age, he looked so perplexed by your guilt, shaking his head as his eyebrows furrowed. "If you're ever in trouble, I'll always come get you."
There was such an indescribable amount of safety laced into that one sentence alone.
"You promise?"
"Promise."
Nobara's grip tightened on your shoulder, gently trying to pull you back to reality, but his words were suddenly everywhere. His promise echoing on an unwanted loop as you sat your mug down on her coffee table and grabbed your phone.
Even with the falling out you'd had, he never stopped sharing his location with you. It wasn't an invitation back into his life by any means, but it was proof that his sentiment from all those years ago still held merit. That no matter what happened, he'd always know where to find you and you'd always know where to find him too.
Her expression was serious as she watched you, trying to find a tactful way to say what she needed. "I can't stop you." She finally exhaled, "And you know that I'll never tell you what to do, but..." It was that same sense of comfort you'd felt as a child, only this time it came in the form of protective brown eyes. "Remember that you're important too, okay? You matter just as much as he does."
Your body stilled, your stare lingering as you nodded back at her. A wave of the same fear you'd felt that night on his back porch swept over you again. "I know." You said softly. "We both matter. That's why I have to at least try."
𓆩🖤𓆪
Megumi stood under the warmth of his shower, letting steam fill the room as water beaded off of his pale skin. His eyes were heavy, his stomach struggling to keep up with the deficient mix of painkillers and nothingness he'd been offering it the last few days.
He was tired - physically, mentally, spiritually.
Absolutely drained in every sense of the word.
He let the water pour over him until it began to run cold, his hand finally reaching for the dial when he was certain there wasn't a drop of heat left for him. He reached for a towel, haphazardly running it through his hair before wrapping it around his waist. The bloodshot stare of his reflection was haunting, a painful familiarity laced into the tidal wave irises looking back at him.
"One day you'll understand." It was something that he had heard more times than he could count growing up. "One day you'll fuckin' get it." Megumi had always written it off as a jaded excuse from the man who'd raised him. A despondent explanation for his father's shitty behavior in place of an apology. But as he stood in front of the medicine cabinet in his empty apartment, he realized that for the first time maybe it wasn't an excuse for his father's neglect. Maybe it had been something much worse: a warning.
His fist slammed into the mirror without a second thought, an impulsive blur of blood and shattered glass flying past his face as he watched his hollowed-out reflection fracture and drop to the ground in tiny, severed pieces.
"Megumi...?"
Any fleeting amount of relief that he'd gained from the impact was instantly stolen by the softness of your voice.
His head snapped up, the bathroom door cracked open just enough for your eyes to lock with his.
He'd heard as a kid that the only time angels were visible to human beings is when they were needed the most. He didn't believe it back then, but it was the only explanation he could find to explain seeing you in his hallway.
He blinked back at you slowly, his gaze drifting from his battered knuckles to the blood staining the wall in front of him, to the floor that was covered in glass shards.
You didn't hesitate. Didn't pause to ask for an explanation. Didn't flinch at the scene you'd walked into. You just stood there, observing him in quiet understanding.
Time felt like it had come to a grinding halt as he watched you extend a hand out to him with all of the patience in the world. You were goodness incarnated and he was so undeserving.
"Let me help you."
𓆩🖤𓆪
His grasp was warm, his cut up fingers tangling cautiously into yours as you helped pull him away from the wreckage.
He followed behind you, letting you guide him back to his room where you promptly began cleaning and bandaging his injuries. It was almost nostalgic to be sitting with him like this again. Memories of middle school and the way he'd plop himself down on the edge of your bed after his most recent fight surfaced through your mind as you tended to his wounds.
You were almost done, lifting his wrist up to double-check your work when his hand broke free from yours. His thumb suddenly finding the underside of your chin to tilt your face up to his. It was the first time all night that you'd been able to look into him rather than just at him.
"You have a pretty big gash on your middle finger, but -" your voice was barely audible, completely overruled by the way he was staring at you. "It should be okay..." you swallowed, struggling to hold onto the calmness that you'd fought so hard to maintain thus far. "Where's your vacuum? I'll grab it real quick and –"
"Why're you here?"
Your mouth opened and then closed again, the wheels in your head viciously turning as your eyes searched his. There was an extensive list of reasons as to why you were here. A never-ending list, really. And he knew that just as well as you did.
You looked over him carefully, drawing in a shallow breath before pulling away from his hand. "A promise is a promise, right?"
His pupils widened, a glint of what almost resembled anger flickering across his face. "You've gotta let that go, you're smarter than that."
It was enough to snap your attention back to him, resentment settling heavily into the pit of your stomach. "Yeah well, unlike you, when I said 'always', I meant always - not 'always' until it got too hard. Or 'always' until I'm done. I meant fucking always, Megumi."
He leaned in closer to you, his tone every bit as sharp as his expression. The heat from his body was suddenly noticeable as it filled the small space between you. "God, you're dense sometimes. You really don't get it, do you? I didn't tell you to leave because things 'got too hard' or because I was 'done'." His stare was piercing, his face only centimeters away from yours. "I told you to leave because no one deserves to treat you like this. No one deserves to hurt you. No one, not even me. I don't get some pass just because of a promise we made as kids."
The scorned rebuttal you had lined up abruptly died on your tongue by his last sentence. The air felt stagnant and far too thick to breathe. Tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill the longer you looked at him, but you fought with everything you had to keep them at bay.
"I guess we're both facing the same problem then." Your tone was light despite the crippling weight your words held. "Because no one deserves to hurt you like this either, not even you."
It felt like every late-night conversation, every right and wrong decision, every major life lesson that had played out between the two of you had only been practice for this one grave moment.
You watched the first small crack form in his concrete demeanor as you rested your hand on the back of his neck. Could almost hear the second one splinter down when his fingers traced along your jawline, catching tears you didn't even realize had fallen. Could practically feel the reverb of how shattering the third fracture was as he leaned in and attentively parted your lips with his tongue.
"I think the only time life makes sense is when we're like this."
You pulled him in closer, letting the past and present blur together through gentle, desperate touches. His grasp tightened around your waist, neither one of you able to stop what you'd started. You'd kissed him so many times before, groveled for him in so many different ways, but you weren't sure that you'd ever known this type of fervency for anyone or anything else in your life.
His hands were calloused, damaged but still tender as they ran through your hair, pulling your head back slightly. His mouth drifted to the side of your neck, the warmth of his breath dancing across your skin. "I love you." It was so faint that you weren't sure if he had actually said it or if it was just another part of your past coming back to haunt the both of you.
He hovered over you, gradually leaning you back into the mattress as the towel wrapped around his waist fell to the floor. You followed his lead, letting him delicately slip your t-shirt up over your head. Your heart stuttered in your chest, watching his eyes roam over you as he unbuttoned your shorts.
There was something so intimidating and overwhelmingly comforting about how well he knew you. Every freckle. Every scar. Every blemish. There wasn't a single part of your body that he hadn't familiarized himself with over the years.
His fingertips traced easily over the inside of your thigh, his eyes locked intently with yours. "You're sure this is what you want?"
His movements were calculated as he drew up towards your center, keeping his touch featherlight and his voice low. "You could have anyone else you wanted, you know that? Probably even have a pretty normal life without me.”
You shook your head at him, trying not to squirm as he slid a slender finger into you. "Just you." you whispered.
His thumb brushed against your clit with just the right amount of pressure while he added another finger. "I'm hard to love." He reminded you, his eyes glazing over as he watched your hips thrust up towards him.
"D - don't care." you moaned, trying to keep your focus despite the way he was picking up the pace, plunging innn and outttt of you, only going deeper with each time you tried to speak. "I... don't - oh, f...fuck."
"You don't what, baby?" Your walls were wrapped around him so tight, swallowing him hopelessly as you writhed beneath him. You opened your mouth again, but your thoughts were all but stolen from you as he slammed into you, rendering you a whimpering mess. "Words." he demanded.
You were trying so hard to keep it together, trying so hard not to soak him, but your release and emotions were all threatening to flood out at once the harder he went. You were grabbing onto him, clenching around his fingers as they continued their relentless assault on you.
"I don't want easy," it was almost one word with how breathlessly it came out. "I don't want easy –" you repeated, your body needily bucking up towards him again. "I want you. I'll always want you." you were finally at your breaking point, drenching him as he looked down at you with feral adoration. "Fuck Megumi, please."
He withdrew from you, his composure a bit more feverish as he leaned in to kiss you. It was hard, urgent.
"Bend over for me." He said against your lips.
He helped you roll over, grabbing your thighs to lift you into position while you arched your back for him and buried your face into the softness of his comforter. The absence of his fingers was short-lived, his tip suddenly prodding at your entrance.
He went in slow, watching you carefully as he held onto your hips for support and pulled you onto him. His pace was determined by your breathing. You were taking him so well, your body practically melting under his touch as he entered you, but he wanted every confirmation he could get that you really were in this as much as he was.
"I love you." you panted, tilting your head to look up at him over your shoulder. "I love you." you said again, feeling the hesitation from him finally start to dissipate.
His grip dug into your sides, each thrust rougher than the last. "Say it again." He nodded.
But you could barely get the first word out before he buried himself into you, taking away every last bit of resolve you had left. He leaned over so that his body was locking yours in place, his breath trailing across your shoulder as you shook underneath him, heady little whines filling the space between you.
His hand wrapped delicately around your throat while his voice picked up where yours had left off. "I love you." he exhaled.
Your eyes widened when they caught his. There was something so irrevocably binding about the way he was looking at you, it almost felt like an agreement. A soul tie. A meeting between angels and mortals. A promise where "always" really meant always.
"I love you." You whispered, not breaking away from his stare as his pace quickened. His thrusts were unyielding, his body becoming just as needy as yours while your nails dug desperately into his sheets. "I love you." you let out again, your walls nearly smothering him. "I love you." you whined, feeling yourself clench and spasm around him. "I love you." He groaned, holding you in place as he filled you - his cum mixing with yours, sealing the unspoken contract you’d both created.
"I love you. I love you. I love you..."
𓆩🖤𓆪
Megumi was careful not to wake you the next morning. He slipped out from under your grasp with all the caution he possessed as he got to his feet, throwing a pair of boxers on and sliding a black hoodie over his head.
He grabbed the empty bottles that were littering his nightstand before closing the door to his bedroom and heading to the kitchen. It was the first time he'd woken up sober in roughly 3 weeks. The clarity that came along with it was almost too much to handle as he looked over the state of his apartment. The piles of dishes. The destroyed bathroom mirror. The blood stains on the floor of the hallway.
It all told a story, painted an entirely too vivid picture of his own self destruction. He reached into the pocket of his hoodie, finding a cellophane baggy filled with the last 4 Oxys he had.
He took a breath, looking over them. Knowing that they were the one thing that could make everything feel so much more bearable and all it would take was one quick swallow. "God damnit..." He sighed.
Your footsteps were too light for him to hear as you crept around the corner, watching him dump the contents of the baggy into the kitchen sink.
He hastily turned on the water, fighting the urge to fish them out as he let them disappear down the drain. Today might hurt. Tomorrow might hurt. But as he turned around and caught your eye, he quickly realized that they weren't the only thing that could make everything better, they were far from it…
"Need some help?"
No matter how out of control life got, he would always have one advantage: No one else had what he had.
𓆩🖤𓆪
#jjk x reader#rem writes#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro megumi#jjk megumi#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#megumi x angst#megumi smut#megumi x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader#jjk fanfic#toxic!megmi#megumi angst#jjk angst#jjk drabbles#megumi fushiguro angst
186 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝗔𝗠𝗢𝗥 𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗧𝗘𝗠. //𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎.
He loved her since childhood, yet she married another man.
Words: 11.3k
Suguru Geto was never seen like a man interested in relationships. Not flings, not one-night stands, real relationships. Unlike his best friend satoru who used to have tons of girlfriends week after week, Suguru wasn't fond of it. Don't get him wrong, he did like to have his fun too, but once he had it and was satisfied he never once was seen again.
It's not like he didn't want a relationship either. He wished for the warmth of a relationship, he craved the proximity and he needed that closeness with someone, but not with anyone. Because he only wanted you.
He always did.
Everytime he felt some random woman's hand run through his hair, every moment he felt someone admiring his beauty, everytime he was sent gifts from some "secret admirer" on valentines, everyday he woke up next to some lady he met on a party..he wished it was you. No matter how many hands he held, they never fit his like yours do. No matter how many people he met, none of their personalities was made for his like yours is. Maybe that's why he never really even tried to establish a serious romantic relationship with someone, because he knows no one will fit him like you do.
"It's no use. If she doesn't like you by now, give up. Want something to smoke the pain away?"
Yeah, shoko said that to him more than once and he remembers it too well. He always ignored the last part, because Suguru knew you didn't like the smell of cigarettes from the way your beautiful face turns into an expression of disgust when you smell it. He has always been able to admire your beauty, even when he first met you as a child and decided to play with this pretty kid from the other class.
Oh, how he cursed the day that he met you.
He remembers it as clear as a day, it was a snowy day in primary school. He was in class, waiting while sitting on a chair while he waited for his patents to pick him up since they were late because of work. All the kids were already gone, and he was just staring at the floor while patiently following his teacher's orders.
—Psst!
He looked around for the owner of that sound. The door wasn't opened, and nobody was inside of the class too.
—Over here!
Suguru looked to his right, seeing another child standing on a chair to get part of their face visible through the tall window. The kid waved, and he found himself waving too.
—You look bored, want to play?
He looked around the classroom for a second. He was more than happy to have someone to play, but it was a classroom. What game could he play here, if it wasn't doing basic mathematical exercises?
—Bur there are no games here..
To his surprise, the child nodded.
—I know! But look.—The kid proceeded to signal to the opposite window, the one that had looks to the exterior of the school.—There's snow. We can make a snowman, like the movies!
He sounded interested in her offer. However, he was still not fully trusting you.
—Won't we get sick? I'll say it's your fault if i catch a cold!
He said, pointing at you with his finger along with a sly smile. Even if there was a dirty window between the two of you, he could still feel the warmth of the smile you just gave him then.
—No worries! I'll make sure you stay warm.
—You promise?
He looked at the child's innocent eyes that grew excited as he seemed to have agreed to play with her now. His lips curved into a smile due to this.
—I promise!
And he trusted her word. His mom once said that promises couldn't be broken once you make them, so that kid was responsible of him now in case he grew cold. He got off of his chair, opened the door and finally saw her whole, not just half of their face looking at him through a window. The child he has been talking to smiled as they got off a chair to get to his level, and he helped her get the chair back to the classroom it was borrowed from before going outside.
The kid was called Y/N, he learned.
And you were so fun to be with. He played with you, made a few snowmen, threw snowballs at eachother, and laughed the hardest for a long time when he hit you and you fell to a huge pile of snow. He thought you were going to be boring at first, that you were just one of those stupid kids who laughed at him because he claimed to see "spirits" or "curses" as he liked to call them, but you weren't. You didn't even understand what he meant when he talked to you about them, however you were sweet about it. You even said it was alright and that everyone has imaginary friends, he just has tons of them! That's cool, isn't it? Having so many friends must be cool.
For a moment, he thought it was cool too.
Not a curse, not a gift, but something cool only he could do.
And that single feeling of being someone "cool", someone interesting and not some crazy child, made him feel free for the hour he kept playing with you until his parents picked him up. He was scolded for being outside and catched a huge cold that had him in bed for two whole days, but it was okay. He liked the way you kept him entertained that day, so he forgave you for breaking the promise.
Yeah, he liked you.
Suguru sighed, those memories he thought he would eventually forget coming back to him. He was a shy kid, and you made him get out of his comfort zone. That little you tore down his walls and stepped all over his beloved silence until he began to hate it as much as you did. Now, there was no place for it when you were together and he got used to you yapping everytime just like Satoru. Only difference was he actually enjoyed your voice, he found the tone you spoke to him with quite relaxing.
He noticed how you always had a different tone for each person.
It was endearing, to say the least. Suguru loved the way you called for him, the way his name sounded so sweet from your lips. When you talked to him, he noticed your voice was soft. Softer than usual, soft as if you knew you didn't have to raise your voice for him to understand you better. Sometimes there wasn't even a need to say something for him to understand you, but he still pretended he didn't hear you just to listen to your voice once again.
He adored your voice.
And maybe, just maybe, that was the reason he was calling you to tell you this instead of texting you right now.
He thought about it once again, how brave he was being right now when as a teen he couldn't be able to even look at your face despite being your childhood friend. It was all because he had just discovered he had this silly crush on you, wasn't it?
Oh, how he cursed the day he fell in love with you.
It was when he recently joined the jujutsu tech, as far as he remembers. You two were then at his home, with a bottle and a half of alcohol empty, doing both a celebration and goodbye party. He got into the college, but that only meant he was leaving you behind to go and live in Tokyo while you stayed at his childhood town. That explains why you were completely drunk, drunk enough to look at him and not think about how he was going to leave next week.
—Going to fall asleep already?
You looked at Suguru with sleepy eyes. Right, you two were on the sofá with some of those random pathetic TV shows at 3am as background noise as you leaned on his shoulder and he talked about the people he was going to have class with. None of the ones he described to you seemed interesting since, for you, your Suguru was always going to be the strongest. However, you listened to him carefully anyways like you always do.
—No, I won't.
He chuckled.
—Right. I'll be guessing you're spending the night here?
He felt a slight nod against his shoulder.
—You even dare to think i won't?
—Not at all, m'am.—You rolled your eyes at the formal nickname, getting your head off his shoulder as a punishment. You also intended to get up to be more dramatic, but a hand on your waist stopped you.—You're drunk, i wouldn't recommend standing up just yet.
You looked to the side, meeting his half lidded eyes and cocky smile as he talked to you. A slight blush crept its way on his cheeks due to the alcohol, but didn't sound drunk at all despite all of that.
—So what? It's time to go to bed anyways, Suguru.
—You actually intend to go to bed knowing how tipsy we are right now?
—No, but i do want a blanket from your bedroom.
He looked at you and wondered if you were serious. Alcohol warms people up, so how could you be cold? It was winter, but his house was surely warm enough to stay hot and comfy.
—Hell, are you sick?
The hand on your waist pulled you closer to him and as a result you ended up with your head on his chest. Next thing you knew, a pair of soft lips were pressed on your temple for a few seconds until the feeling of them disappeared.
—You don't seem to have a fever.
You looked up, not caring about what he just did and how your actions could be misunderstanded if someone walked in right then. You were always this close to Suguru. You didn't mind being this close to his chest, neither did you care if he pulled you by the waist, and the feeling of his lips on your forehead to check your temperature was just another of the things you've grown used to. Not only that, but you were too drunk to even give it a second thought. Hell, he could have kissed you on the lips with the excuse of checking if you're sick and you wouldn't have thought anything bad about it because of how sleepy you were getting.
And he knew that.
He just didn't know why he wanted to do it so bad.
That time when he was leaning in to kiss your forehead his tired gaze lingered on your lips for a bit, nothing too weird. You were wearing that lipstick shade he helped you pick, and it suited you really good! It was okay, so why did he feel the urge to ruin it until his lips were of that shade too? Why did he feel like he was doing something wrong by pulling you into his chest, thinking of this as something that wouldn't be quite considered friendship?
—Hey, Suguru.
Your voice interrumpted his thoughts. You were still on his chest, now in a comfy position and playing with a strand of his loose dark hair. The man simply looked at you, mumbling a soft "mm?" waiting for you to keep going even if he knew you were just going to tell the most carefree thing ever since you were drunk.
—I've been thinking, and i'm really glad you're the one I get to call my best friend.
Best friend.
Yeah, he needed to get that carved into his brain urgently since that was what you two were, are, and will be. There was no space to even think about something as complex as some kind of attraction to his kind of cute childhood friend, and he was once again reminded of it. All the times he got butterflies just because you held his hand like you always do, he needs to get rid of all of them. All of the times his heart raced because of a silly kiss on his cheek, the long hugs, the late night talks about life..it needs to stop. It was dirty to think of you in a way beyond friendship when you saw a brother in him, and he knew that. You didn't see it the way he wanted you to, so he had to start forcing himself to think the way you do.
It should be easy, that's what he thought when he first felt this strange around you.
Yet, it was anything but easy.
So with a sigh, he placed a hand on top of your head while the other one rested on your lower back. He positioned the two of you so you completely lay on the couch and turned off the TV, admiring how you didn't even question his actions as you waited for an answer to what you said a few seconds ago.
—Yes, i'm grateful you're my friend too.
"Liar", he thought.
But what could he do? He doesn't like you anymore.
It's clear now,
He entirely loves you.
The phone made a sound, and it once again stopped him from daydreaming.
—Suguru?
He heard you talk from the other line. The man smiled just by hearing you call his name.
—Y/N.
Suguru called your name back, his voice was deep and sweet, and had this endearing sweet touch that made it sound like he was purring your name.
—It's late, why did you call me?
You didn't even sound worried despite the fact that he was calling you so out of nowhere, this was a normal thing. He kept quiet for a bit, he could hear some utensils being moved around.
Perhaps you were at home, cooking?
That's good, he loved your cooking. You made food for him several times, so many that he lost count. Seeing you cook while he waited leaning on the kitchen's counter made him dream of a universe where you cooked for him everyday. Oh, how he imagined you cooking something for him as he got from work. You and him, at home, married and not friends. That's the perfect life, the life he desired next to you.
However, it was not possible.
He exhaled.
—I'm not going to attend your wedding.
He didn't even get to keep talking, and the sound of a metal object —some cutlery, he guessed— hitting the floor was already interrupting him.
—What do you mean?!
You asked him desperately, getting worried. What did he mean by not coming to your wedding? Was he crazy? He was one of the only people you specifically wanted to see at your ceremony. You wanted to spend your special day with him, who you considered part of your family at this point. You wanted to recieve an speech from him congratulating you as he promised, you wanted him to joke about how your husband's family was so dry, you wanted him to see you in your wedding dress.
And he did, too.
He just wasn't able to.
—Suguru!
You called for him, waiting for an explanation. He stayed quiet for a second, the only thing you could hear from his line was the sound of heavy steps and wind. He was walking through an alley, leaning on the wall once he was there.
—Listen, i can't.
—Why?!
He wondered about what excuse would suit best right now to give it to you. "I love you" he wished to say, but was it really relevant when you were soon to marry another man? How could he even dare to be as selfish as that, letting you know of all of the times he took advantage of your friendship to have an excuse to hold you? How could he, as a man, ever think of saying such a thing? However, you did deserve to know the truth. Was he really going to tell you?
He shook his head, a bittersweet smile in his face.
—I can't, Y/N. Something just came up, and I-
—Something more important than your best friend's wedding day? Really, Suguru?
—Yeah.
He hated the way your breath hitched at that, the way he could feel the pain in your voice. Because the pain you felt, he felt it even worse. Everytime the smallest of the corners of your heart broke, his whole soul shattered.
—And you can't even give me an explanation?
Your voice cracked. He just stayed quiet, and you got your answer.
Your tone changed this time.
—I hope you're glad of what you've just done. Don't you dare to call me again, Geto.
You hung up, and he knew he fucked you up.
His last name was spat with what felt like venom through his ears, the feeling of not hearing you calling out his name with a cheery tone had him at the verge of tears. It was his decision, so why was it so hard to do this to you? You were supposed to be the only woman he could ever love, and he just hurt you.
His shaky hands threw his phone across the street, frustration getting over him.
Fuck it.
He crawled along the alley still leaning against the wall for support, sitting on the ground once he reached the edge of it. His breathing was accelerated, he didn't know if it was due to stress or the stinging pain coming from his shoulder.His head leaned back as he hissed in pain, clutching on his arm.
Or what was left of it, anyways.
Blood stained his hands, which he didn't even realize were paler than usual. He left out a shaky breath, recalling all of the things that happened faster than he could ever imagine. He was beat up by this kid called Yuta, ruined his relationship with you and was about to die, all in a span of time of a few hours.
It was for the best.
—Suguru.
A voice called his name. For a second he thought he would see you, but the voice was too masculine to be yours. His mind must be playing games on him.
He opened his eyes, seeing a white haired man he knew a little too well.
—Ah, Satoru.
Satoru looked at him with those eyes, those eyes that used to be filled with emotion now looking empty. His friend kept quiet, so Suguru kept talking.
—You know, just had a chat with your wife. We might have fought a little.
Yes, Satoru's wife. That was no one but you, the only woman he could have ever desired, taken from him by his best friend. He was mad at first, hearing that you and satoru were offcially dating.
Satoru knew he liked you, so why?
He was crazy, refused to talk to Satoru in private or when you were not looking. He placed his trust on Satoru when he said he would respect his crush, and he betrayed it. He didn't even understand why would he do such thing when Satoru was known for having like.. four, five? girlfriends in one month. He didn't want his best friend to break your heart.
But then he saw it.
He saw the way Satoru looked at you and noticed how you looked at him back.
Fuck, you loved eachother.
Because he knew that gaze of yours, he dreamed of it more than he could ever count. He wished of the day you would look at him like that, but Satoru got that dream come true before him. He cried until the next morning that day, cursing fate for giving him a heart that wasn't his, but yours. He cried because no matter what he did for a decade, Satoru got you in just two years.
Was it Satoru's eyes? Was it his pale hair? Perhaps you thought he was unattractive. He knew he was always going to be less than his best friend, but he thought that maybe you would choose him and not the strongest.
But you didn't.
And with time, he learned how to live with it. He helped Satoru pick anniversary gifts for you, supported your relationship with him, calmed you down when you and Satoru fought, helped satoru pick a ring and propose to you... Hell, he was going to be Satoru's man of honor at your wedding too. How could he not? You looked so happy when you gave him that handwritten invitation letter inviting him you to your wedding with another man while his heart crushed in silence.
But everytime, he smiled at you.
Because you were happy, and Suguru wouldn't want anything but that.
And that's why he, even though he took the thing he wanted the most, smiled at satoru who was looking at him in this pathetic situation where he didn't even have an arm and was covered in blood. Yes, he had no bad things to say about his best friend if he was the one making you happy.
—Told her i wouldn't attend the wedding. You must understand why, huh?
Satoru tried his best not to let his serious and professional expression fall at Suguru's words. He seemed as if he was so calm, but he knew what he was thinking. The white haired man simply kneeled down in front of him.
—She used to like you too.— He spoke in a low voice.—A year before we started dating. Remember when she started to wear ponytails? Asked me what your type was and i said that because i didn't actually know.
Suguru's eyes darted towards his friend's, looking for the slightest clue that would indicate that he was lying. He wasn't, he knew that gaze.
—Why are you telling me that?
—Thought you would want to die with a happy thought. I know you still..
"You still love her" he wanted to say, but suguru's chuckle didn't let him continue. Satoru saw the widest smile he could have seen in his best friend's face since years and years ago. He laughed and laughed, forgetting about the pain he was feeling at that moment. More than feeling like he lost a chance, he felt glad; not because he didn't even realize it, but because of the fact that if you liked him once, that would only mean you had looked at him. It was okay, because you laid your eyes on him and he was chosen by you. He was worthy enough to be liked by you, and he felt his younger self scream of joy inside of him.
That made him even happier, because It means that maybe, in another universe, he gets to make his dream come true and finally date you withouth having to worry about ruining your friendship. In another universe, maybe he gets to be the reason of your happiness. A universe with no curses, where you two live separated from the world and live a married life with children.
Yeah, nothing could make him happier than that.
So he closed his eyes and rested his head on the wall, relaxed and ready to accept the fate his friend was going to give him. His smile didn't ever fade, grateful for what Satoru told him.
—At least curse me a little at the very end..
—AUTHOR'S NOTE: honestly not really happy with how i've written this fic, i was kind of rushed. However, hope you liked it!
It's not edited, so let me know if there are any mistakes.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#geto suguru x you#geto x you#suguru fluff#geto suguru#getou suguru x reader#suguru x reader#suguru geto x reader#geto fluff#geto angst#gojo angst#gojo satoru fluff#jjk gojo#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#fanfiction#jjk fanfic#fanfic#gojo imagine#jjk drabbles#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x you#gojo satoru headcanons#gojou satoru x reader#suguru geto#jjk suguru
203 notes
·
View notes
Text
Matching outfits
Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto
Sukuna-
Sukuna doesn't know how to make clothes, nor does he want to learn. So he raids a village in hopes to find a fashion designer who could make his daughter a matching outfit. "Tell her then" annoyed at the fact that he even had to do this. "I want to be matching dad!" Jumping at the idea of matching her father, he was her idol, wanting to be like him when she grows up, much to your dismay. "You want to be just like him?" Dreading for the poor girl's future. Trembling at the sight of the four armed man.
Atleast a week later, he had returned with his little girl. "Look daddy!" Jumping up and down as she showed the kimono. "Yeah yeah" laughing at how excited she was. The woman still bowing, not daring to raise her head from the ground.
Nanami-
Nanami- is very thoughtful, so when he hears that his daughter wants to be like him when she's older, as much as he doesn't want her to become a Jujutsu sorcerer he goes in full force, hiring someone to make an exact replica of his outfit, even adding in a skirt for her to have options.
"See daddy! Now we're matching" twirling around, she added her own little twist to the outfit by having a skirt on since she wasn't feeling the pants. Sat on the sofa trying to catch up on some paperwork, he almost spat out his coffee from how cute she looked, hair tied up in two pigtails, even the same tie and shirt colour, green glasses to complete her look. "Awe, you look pretty sweetheart" patting the cushion beside him.
Gojo-
"I'm done!" Bringing his son out to show you, holding his son by his armpits, feet dangling in the air. "I made him look cuter!" Chubby cheeks flaring a shade of pink as if he was about to cry. Your son looked rather cute, wearing the exact same uniform like salty always wore, they were identical, both white hair and blue eyes, defying your genes entirely. "My baby has always been cute" taking him from your husband's hands, laying him on the sofa. Grabbing his pink cheeks, only making him cry. "Satoru!" Slapping the back of his head. "I didn't mean to" trying to defend himself.
Geto-
"I need a matching robe for my daughter, I'll raise your rank if you get it done by next week Sunday" That's what he explained to the fashion designer a few weeks ago, that's exactly what he did, gave the follower a slightly higher rank, he was thinking about killing them but he atleast had some sympathy left. It was the anniversary of becoming a leader so if course he wanted to celebrate, bringing his daughter along in a matching outfit, she looked so much like him, like a gender bend version. "Ah, daddy I look just like you!" Giving herself a quick twirl before walking out of the curtains, standing Infront of all her father's followers. "Yeah you do" patting her head as he overtook her, sitting down.
Toji-
Normally he never plans stuff out but the second he heard the news that you were pregnant he's already planned out the gifts. "How about this?" Showing you the outfit he styled on his daughter, the little girl wearing a black bodysuit with a pair of grey sweatpants. "So you dressed her up like you?" Looking back from the sofa, you had to admit that she did look sure as she matched with her father. Minus him not wearing a shirt.
"Yes" saying it proudly as he placed himself on the sofa, right next to you. She seemed to enjoy the outfit as much as he did, clapping her hand as she stuck her tongue out.
#geto fluff#gojo fluff#nanami fluff#toji fluff#sukuna fluff#geto x reader#gojo x reader#nanami x reader#toji x reader#sukuna x reader#geto suguru#gojo satoru#sukuna ryomen#nanami kento#toji fushiguro#jjk drabbles#jjk x reader#jjk#𝙳𝚎𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚎𝙺𝚞𝚗𝚊
319 notes
·
View notes
Text
Loved You First
Azriel x reader
summary: reader and Azriel are in love with each other but too afraid to admit it. What happens when reader gets asked out on a date and is seemingly very interested in the guy?
Loosely inspired by "Loved You First" by One Direction
warnings: this is so fluffy its borderline cheesy. Actually no, it is cheesy. Enjoy the cheese my loves!
a/n: the results from the poll are in!!! and Azriel very obviously won lol so here is a fic that has been in my drafts for like a year and I haven't had the motivation to finish.
~●○°●○°●○~
Had my chances,
Could've been where he is standing
That's what hurts the most,
Girl I came so close,
But now you’ll never know,
Baby, I loved you first
Ever since you joined the IC a decade ago, you and the spymaster have been close. Rhysand had walked into a coffee shop one day where he found you, sipping on your coffee while lost in a book on the history of Prythian. Rhys had taken a liking to you after a lengthy conversation about the inaccuracies both of you had spotted. He invited you to dinner with the inner circle where you met the infamous Shadowsinger.
The first time you met, a hum or two of acknowledgement is all you got from him. You felt like he hated you after that first meeting but the rest of the IC had taken a liking to you which led to you being invited to many more dinners. Eventually, he started speaking to you like you weren’t his enemy but was still closed off, keeping the conversation about you and providing as little information about himself as possible. Initially, you weren’t too fond of the spymaster due to his closed-off nature and the vibe you got that he didn't particularly enjoy your company, but everyone in the IC spoke fondly of him and he wouldn’t have been friends with all the kind people in the inner circle if he wasn’t nice himself. Then, you realized soon that he had built up many walls around his heart to prevent himself from getting hurt. So, you decided to give him a fair chance and struck up a conversation at one of the dinners about a book both of you had read called ‘The Name of the Rose’. It was a safe territory that got him to be surprisingly chatty with you. Suddenly, his whole demeanour changed. He turned his body towards you, asking you questions about your theories while you were reading, proposing his own. The moment you saw his eyes light up when you two agreed on who the culprit should have been, you knew this male was the most precious being you had met.
Since that dinner, you and Azriel were like two peas in a pod, always together, relentlessly teasing each other, chatting amongst yourselves which led to infinite inside jokes. During the inner circle dinners when everyone would be talking about their weeks, random gossip from here and there, and sharing stories, you and Azriel would be sitting together, commenting on the conversations happening around you in the other’s ear and laughing to yourselves.
Rhysand often said you two were like little kids.
Both of you often got teased by the other's name by the rest of the IC. According to them, you two should have started dating the moment you met. Feyre even said you two reminded her a bit of Cassian and Nesta with the way you disliked each other during your first few meetings but quickly became inseparable.
And in a way, they weren’t wrong.
When your chemistry was that good, you couldn’t help but fall for the spymaster. He was always there for you when you needed him, and you were the first person he let himself be truly vulnerable with, always coming to you after a mission gone wrong. You saw a side of him that no one had seen before: the childish, playful side that took every opportunity to make you laugh, to snatch up the last piece of cake or candy, a side that played pranks on you, a side that loved to laugh wholeheartedly. It was his genuine smile, the boisterous laughter that you loved the most, and did everything in your power to hear it as often as you could.
The only problem that seemed to be standing in the way of you confessing was that he didn’t seem interested in you. Little things he would do made you think he viewed you as nothing but a friend, such as ruffling your hair, his incessant teasing about how no one would want to date you, and the fact that he never said anything to you about it. You knew the spymaster wasn’t exactly a talking about his feelings kind of person, but then he wasn’t afraid to confess kind of person either, which left you confused and sad that he didn’t reciprocate your love.
Recently, at a coffee shop, you had been asked out by a fine gentleman who had struck up a conversation with you. He complimented your features, telling you how he loved your hair, and soon, asked you on a date.
Since the thing with Azriel was never going to happen, you didn't see a reason to turn down the very handsome male who was interested in you.
“Awesome! There's this restaurant near the rainbow ‘Velarian’, ever heard of it?” he asked.
You nodded with a shy smile.
“Perfect! I will pick you up tomorrow at 7 pm, milady.” He gallantly bowed, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles, making you blush.
“Will do,” you replied.
The male left after getting his coffee, throwing a wink your way before taking his exit.
“Y/n, what’s taking you so long?” Azriel stalked into the shop, seeing you standing there staring at the door and smiling like an idiot. A smile of amusement took over his features.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked.
“I just got asked on a date!” you replied cheerfully, snapping out of your daze and clapping your hands together.
His whole world went silent. It had finally happened, the moment he had been dreading: someone was going to come in and take you away from him and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it because he was too afraid to tell you how he felt. And how could he when you seemed so excited at the prospect of getting asked out? He mentally chastised himself for not going inside with you so he could chase away the male as he’d done countless times before. He could not stand the idea of you dating someone else so he did something he shouldn’t have and threatened any male enamoured by your presence from getting close to you. But when you had that smile on your face when you looked more excited than you had in a while, how could Azriel ruin that by telling you the truth about his feelings?
So, he conjured that playful lilt back into his voice despite his heart rejecting the playfulness and furrowed his brows. “Hold on, someone actually wants to date you? Like without getting paid for it?” he said in a surprised tone.
You punched his shoulder hard, making Azriel laugh out loud.
“You’re an asshole, you know that?” you said with a frown.
Azriel nodded. “You’ve told me a few times,” he stated.
“And yet you can't seem to understand it.”
Understandably so, Mor was very excited when you told her you got asked out on a date and you both set to figuring out your hair, makeup, and outfit for the night.
“So what's his name?” Mor asked while she put up your hair in different ways, trying to figure out what looked good.
You blushed slightly, looking at Mor in the mirror. “His name is Damien,” you said in an almost whisper.
It killed Azriel that this other was able to make you blush like that when it was his right to bring that colour to your cheeks.
“Oh my, look at the blush!” Mor teased. “I don’t even think I need to put any blush on you if this is how pink you get from just his name!”
Mor laughed out loud and you hid your face in your hands in embarrassment.
“Mor, stop,” you chastised, and both of you erupted in giggles.
Azriel watched as the two of you chattered excitedly, wanting to but not having the guts to ask you to not go on the date. So he did the only thing he could and watched you go on a date with a male you met in the coffee shop.
You looked stunning in a little black dress with spaghetti straps and a wide neck, displaying the beautiful necklace you wore with a reflection of the Velaris night sky captured into a little globe. Your hair was hanging in loose waves down your back and framing your beautiful features, and a beautiful diamond bracelet adorning your wrist that matched the sparkle of the necklace perfectly. Your eyes were lined with kohl and shining bright with excitement as Azriel took you, his heart breaking the brighter your smile got.
“Wow, Y/n, who knew you could look like a female,” Azriel teased, making you roll your eyes and slightly chuckle. He smiled, moving closer to you with his hands in his pockets. “Good luck on your date, n/n. Have fun.” He moved his hand to ruffle your hair but you ducked, stopping him mid-movement.
“Please don’t, I spent hours on this hair and I can’t have anything ruin it,” you grimaced.
“Of course, my bad,” Azriel replied, stepping away from you.
A gentle rapping sounded on the door and you turned to your friends one last time for a check. They shot you thumbs up before you opened the door and greeted the very attractive male.
“Ready to go?” Azriel heard his rich, deep voice, feeling a pang of jealousy shoot through his chest.
You smiled, stepping down carefully and closing the door behind you.
You didn't return till the next morning, hair messed up, heels in your hands, and his scent all over you.
“So I guess the date went well?” Mor smirked, sipping her coffee as she eyed you walking in.
You smiled sheepishly before slipping off to your room for a bath and some much-needed rest.
The next few days, Azriel had been extra broody and everyone was confused about why. He wouldn't talk to even you and mostly kept to himself.
“Y/n, I think you need to talk to Az,” Cassian said while leaning against the kitchen counter.
“Why?” you asked with your brows furrowed, continuing to butter the bread.
“He's been…moody these past few days. Like more so than usual, and it's worrying all of us. He won't talk to us, barely looks us in the eye, and he’s been training non-stop. I don't think the training dummies can take much more of this,” he joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere but you could hear the worry in his voice.
You huffed in amusement before turning to Cassian and nodding. “I will speak to him today. Thank you for telling me.”
You made another sandwich for Azriel and plated both of them before heading up to his room. The room was shrouded in darkness meaning the Shadowsinger was upset about something, and that concerned you because he didn't come to you this time about whatever was bothering him.
“Az?” you called out into the darkness. When you didn't get a response, you slowly tracked your way to the bed, estimating from memory how far it would be and avoiding obstacles on the way.
You set the plates of food down on the bed when you found it, feeling around for Azriel whom you felt sitting with his legs outstretched, leaning against the headboard. Your hand came in contact with his shoulder first and you rested your palm there gently, stroking it soothingly.
“You okay, Az?” you asked.
A grunt of acknowledgement was the only response you got.
“Hey, what's wrong?” you asked, carefully sitting down on the bed next to his legs. “Talk to me.” You took his hands in yours, squeezing to tell him you were there for him. Slowly, the shadows receded from around the room, once again cloaking the room with light and letting you get a view of the spymaster.
Azriel looked horrible with tired bags and messy hair. His eyes were red as if he had been crying and his shoulders slumped from exhaustion. You reached a hand up to gently stroke his cheek. His eyes lifted to yours and you could see the pain in them. Your heart broke to see him like this and wanted to do everything in your power to take the pain away.
“What's wrong, Azzy?” you asked softly.
He opened his mouth to tell you but stopped himself and shook his head. “I can’t tell you.”
You slightly laughed at that. “Come on, Az, we’re not kids. You can tell me and we can have a mature, adult conversation about it.”
Azriel sighed, dropping your hands and getting up from the bed.
“You won’t understand, Y/n,” he said and you heard agitation in his voice.
You turned to where he was standing, your feet firmly planted on the ground and hands fisting the bedsheets at your sides.
“Then make me understand, Az,” you said softly. “Something has got to be very wrong because you haven’t spoken to me in days, you haven’t spoken to the rest of the family, you’re training yourself to death, barely eating, barely sleeping. I mean, is all that worth it when you can talk to me and we can work it out?” you questioned.
“It's worth it if it means you’re happy,” Azriel said so softly you barely heard it.
“You’re miserable, Az,” you said, getting up from the bed and walking up to him. You reached for his hands, giving them a firm squeeze. “I can never be happy knowing something is bothering you. Please tell me.”
Azriel looked at your concerned face, at your hands holding his, and the feeling of rightness in his chest. Maybe it was reckless, maybe he’d been building up to this moment for a long time, but his chest physically hurt from holding onto what he desperately wanted to say.
“I love you,” he blurted.
Your face went slack and his heart stopped.
“W-what?” you gaped.
Your grip on his hands loosened, eyes looking up at him in utter disbelief.
But Azriel was not going to take that back. He’d said it and it felt fucking incredible to be able to admit it.
“I love you,” he repeated.
“Really?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I’ve been in love with you since we talked about ‘The Name of the Rose’,” he admitted. “And it's not right that you’re with whats-his-name now because, Y/n, I loved you first. I have always loved you and I cannot hold it in any longer.”
Tears collected in your eyes from his monologue.
“I love you too, Az,” you said.
It was like he could breathe again. Hearing you say those words to him was the utmost bliss he had ever experienced and Azriel did not want this moment to end. He now stood as stunned as you had been when he’d said that to you.
“R-really?” he stuttered out.
You laughed, grip tightening on his hands once again. Nodding, you replied, “Ever since the day you let me hear your laugh and see your smile I’ve been in love, Az,” you admitted.
Not wasting any more time, Azriel smashed his lips on yours, pulling you closer by the waist. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him down, running your fingers through his hair.
You both pulled away, panting but grinning all the same. Azriel rested his forehead on yours and took a moment to just breathe you in. Then, he pulled away and asked, “What about whats-his-name?”
“Oh, the date went horrible. I hated him. Literally one of the most pretentious and presumptuous males I’ve ever met. At the end of the night he asked when our second date was and I said ‘Never. And just in this universe. There is not a single parallel and/or alternate universe where I would consent to see your face again’, then left,” you stated proudly.
Azriel laughed out loud at this.
“Damn, my little heartbreaker,” he said and kissed you again. “Wait then why did you come home the next morning with hair all messy and heels in your hands?” he asked.
“Oh after the date, I saw one of my friends coming out of the restaurant and I hadn’t seen her in a while so we spent the entire night walking and talking along the Sidra,” you chuckled.
Azriel gaped at you.
“You mean to tell me that I brooded for nothing?” he exclaimed.
You pursed your lips and nodded. “Yeah. take this as a sign to work on your communication skills.”
Azriel laughed, making you laugh along with him before he pulled you into another kiss.
From behind you, you heard a loud whistle then cheering followed. Your entire family stood in the doorway of Azriel’s room, watching the two of you in each other’s arms.
“Finally!” Mor clapped her hands together.
“Both of you were insufferable moping about each other,” Cassian said and both of you held up the finger for him.
Everyone laughed at that and you and Azriel hugged tightly.
tags: @thelov3lybookworm @sarawritestories @berryzxx @milswrites @lilah-asteria
#azriel fanfic#azriel x reader#acotar fanfiction#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#acotar#acotar fluff#azriel x female!reader#azriel imagine#azriel shadowsinger x reader#azriel shadowsinger x reader angst#angst ending with fluff#azriel x reader angst#azriel fluff#Azriel acotar angst#azriel shadowsinger angst#azriel shadowsinger fluff#angst to fluff#angst to comfort#Azriel shadowsinger x
206 notes
·
View notes
Text
SEXUAL HEALING!
✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ — synopsis ! you just can’t please yourself anymore. all the toys, your ten fingers and the hours just can’t bring down that crashing bliss…but your sex therapist can!
✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ — pairings! fem!reader x sex therapist!toji fushiguro
✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ — cw! 5.7k, pwp, dubcon, talks of masturb*tion, masturb*tion, teasing, nïppleplay, grinding, dom!toji, oral(m. receiving), bondage (toji ties your hands up), spitting, no protection, p in v, sqūirting, if i forgot some…that’s the gist!
✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ — xoxo, chris! this one has been in my archives for a little minute so pls enjoy!
Bearing the full wrath of his emerald hues weren’t for the weak, even if the glossy glare of glasses weakened its effects. You shrunk in his presence, your body melding into the cherry leather couch. In truth, anything Toji did sent the cold prickles to lick at your spine. The adjusting grips upon his pen, the mindless shifts in his seat, and even the faint grins brought a searing rouse to your mind.
For the past two weeks since discovering his services, it’s been nothing but the same antics that etched into your impressionable mind. The memories seemed to fancy you best at night, replaying each detail to the ‘t’.
From the thick pads of his fingers, he’d strummed along his jawline as he spoke ever so softly to you to the buttons of both his white dress shirt and cafè slacks threatening to pop with every nudge of his body. The sultrous thoughts stained your mind, even guiding your wandering hand to forbidden places.
Nowadays during the visits, it's a challenge to focus on any issues without the suffocating vines of lust laced around every inch of your body. It surely didn’t help to know that the Toji Fushiguro sat before you, his ears piqued to all to come.
Today, however, brought its own specific issues to the table. To begin with, your legs clenched more than usual, paired with the uncontrollable flairs of heat welling upon your skin.
He’s studying you again—every inch as a matter of fact. Toji’s chewing on the cap of his blue pen to keep his sight company, breathing the scene of you in pure heat. The squeeze of your thighs, the hitches clogging your chest, down to the quiver of your lips—it’s all just enticing him to entertain you once more.
“So Y/N, in the time that we’ve started these sessions…you still haven't told me what the actual issue is.”
“I haven’t?! It’s…a lot to explain but I guess I owe you that…”
Toji’s visage bears a displeased look, courtesy of the squint narrowing his eyes. Your teeth pinch at the plush of your bottom lip, the spry nerves of angst bleeding across your skin. You’ve come to know that very look too well, alerting you of his impending limits.
“Well…I can’t exactly…cum anymore.”
“And why is that you think?”
“Stress, mostly. So much is going on in my life right now but I didn’t think things were that bad. I can’t pinpoint what it really is. And it’s kinda embarrassing…to admit it aloud…to you.”
Toji’s entire face fell into a lackluster frown, a wrinkle placed between his brows. His interest’s been piqued by the sudden revelation, coaxing him to sit upright in his leather armchair. The pads of his fingers fall to their steady state, grazing the chiseled contour of his jaw as he presses on.
“Have you been having issues with any partners or…?”
“I think it’s best if I don’t enter any relationships until I get it situated. So I’ve just been…—”
“You’ve learned it through touching yourself, I got that much. It seems we’ve got quite the problem on our hands, don’t we, Doll?”
At his brash conclusion, you found yourself filled with a wave of heat, embarrassment prickling at the highs of your cheeks down the very tips of your fingers. As vulgar as it may be, Toji couldn’t be any closer to the truth.
Call it a kind gesture or cowering in loss of confidence, you couldn’t trust anyone but yourself with your needs. Yet, even that only brought you so far. All the time, all the dollars spent, and not a single toy in your reach ever came close to easing that pit so deep within your tummy.
However, to hear Toji utter such words without a shred of the hesitation you held stirred something in you, bringing a flutter of butterflies to swarm to your belly. You couldn’t dare meet his eyes, nonetheless continuing down such an intimate path.
“Mhm,” you mutter lowly. “So…is it fixable?”
A heavy shroud of silence falls upon both you and Toji, the unanswered inquiry left to bake. The room’s filled with a flurry of emotions. Relief and comfort may have filled the air, but the dark ruse of embarrassment and worry clawed through to the surface. You don’t have to look at Toji to know what he’s thinking.
He’s deep in thought, trying to comprehend just how to handle your case. Toji wants to offer you the best help he can supply, one that he alone could provide you. His eyes are cast upon you, his pretty patient with the worst of luck.
He’s shocked should the truth be told, shocked to know that someone like you had encountered such devious trouble. Now, all he’s left to do is imagine, his thoughts used to help you now sullied by his own twisted imagination.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to see it, you caught up in the heights of lust. To watch your spine take on an ungodly arch, your lips whipped into a quiver, and the hellish cries of plea he’d have to endure. He’s eager to witness it now. It’s written all over him, even apparent in all the mindless movements within the seat. He’s so intrigued by you that he’s forced to grow comfortable, reclining back into his seat.
“Y/N?” Toji calls, a grin laced buried behind his tone.
“Um…yes, Dr. Fushiguro?”
“Come sit.”
Your eyes shift to meet his own, a darkened flair clouding his eyes. At the sound of his very direction, Toji’s thrown into an ecstatic state. His hands rest along the armrest, the pads of his digits rattling a sporadic tune. Your head falls into a gentle tilt, as you begin to comprehend what exactly was asked of you.
“Where…exactly?”
“On my lap of course. Unless you don’t want the issue to be…properly addressed.”
Hesitation runs high within your veins. It’s enough to warn you but not enough to keep you away. The very tip of your black heels dig into the ground as you stand, ruining the groomed pattern of the gray carpet. Every step you take leads you closer and closer to Toji, his aura beckoning you to close the distance.
He’s desperately failing at hiding his excitement, the corners of his lips fighting back a smile. It’s not until the curve of your ass settles atop his thigh that he can breathe that much easier, the florals of your mint dress melding well along the black pant leg.
“Good,” he hums, placing his hand to ghost along your waist. Toji’s compelled to face the consequences, his body overrun by his own whims and desires. He’s longed to have you this close, your temple of a body finally in his grasp. He simply has to take you, to admire every inch of you while time is on his side.
“Now, y’know I wanna help you, Y/N, right?”
“Right.”
“And if I’m going to help you, you have to tell me everything. All you’ve tried, what you haven’t tried—all of it. I promise that by the end of this session…you’ll be all cleared of such a pesky problem.”
Toji’s hands inch to capture your waist, brushing past the soft fabric. Anticipation nips at his being, teasing Toji’s will until he gives in.
“Can I touch you?…for the sake of t-the diagnosis, that is.”
“Yes,” your body losing all tension in Toji’s hold.
No delay can be found in his reach, the pads of his thumb inscribing mindless swirls at your lower back, easing your body into his. All it takes is a gentle tug to seal both your fates, your back resting along the hull of his chest. In Toji’s eyes, you’re just beautiful, so perfect that it melts the cold abyss of his soul. He’s forsaken with an urge to fulfill, eager to ensure your comfort.
“Alright, let’s start nice and easy. Tell me, does it feel okay? You can tell me to stop at any time.”
You peek back to meet the haze of green in Toji’s eyes. His words roll off in the softest of tones, his touch falling nothing short of soothing. It’s almost shameful how quickly you give into him, your head resting at the curve of his shoulder. His touch is even pulling those shushed purrs right off your chest and into his delirious mind.
“That’s cute, we’re starting to get somewhere. Now I wanna ask…What kind of toys did you use? Nothing too extreme I hope.”
A harsh gulp is forced down your throat. All the heat is pinned on you, the brash embarrassment and amusement melding into a single hellish mix.
“I…I used vibrators, brought a few um.…d-dildos and well.…”
Toji’s lost in the heat of the moment, your words soon falling to white noise. He’s hurt to hear it, how your own body could turn against you. Or at least he should be. But all Toji sees is an opportunity, a chance for him to prove to you just how badly you need a man like him in your life.
All he wants is to help you and relieve all that pesky tension scattered throughout you. So maybe that’s why his touch travels to forbidden places, the palms of his hands creeping up to your chest. He’s daring enough to do it too, sending his digits to softly cup at your tits. The pads of his fingers settle over the bra, using a pulsing squeeze to spur you on all the further
His presence isn’t something to be ignored, nor when the heat of his palms bleeds right through the layers of clothes. You’re all too swift to reciprocate his advances, pushing your chest to fill the expanse of his palms. nudging your shoulders for the dress’ straps to fall.
“Toji?”
“Hm?”
“Can you…y’know…keep doing that, please?”
There’s bliss to be worn by Toji, his lips curling to match his amusement. He’s willing to test his luck now by the little whimpers escaping from your pursed lips. Bit by bit his fingers work, tugging at the cups of your bra. It’s a slow practice but he’s only that much closer to the goal—having your tits spill in his hands.
You’re left for putty in his care, anticipation dressing you in a feverish heat. All Toji’s good for is his clever nature, now more than ever. And he knows this very fact all too well. He knows what he can do to you and why he can make you wait like this. The seconds meld into hours the longer he forces your patience, leaving the bra’s wire to trail against your skin.
It isn’t long before a sigh of relief cracks through the air, your tits finally sitting pretty in his palms. He can’t help but admire his efforts—the contrast of lush supple skin, the rousing flush of heat filling out the peaks of your nipples. He’s so engrained in the unfolding scene that he can’t help how his own digits prey on the raw bud with steady pinches.
“Oh, you pretty thing. You like me touching you like this? I’ve barely done anything, though,” his voice breaking the silence. Toji brings a trail of soft pecks from his lips to nip at the velvety crook of your neck, each one dusting across your skin.
“I haven’t played with that cute lil’ clit, or even fucked your pussy full…looks like you’ve got my work cut out fr’ me, don’t you?”
Your teeth sink into the curve of your bottom lip, your thoughts caught in awe by Toji’s words. Here he was, a man doused in intelligence speaking without a care in the world to his patient. He’s so shamelessly vulgar that it’s refreshing, a breath of fresh air if you weren’t so needy.
“You feelin’ okay?” Toji presses as his fingers still find delight in teasing your nipples. He’s even found another way of easing you into his care, his hands kneading the plush flesh to par. He knows you’re feeling something, courtesy of all the cute faces and pretty whimpers he’s had the pleasure of enduring. Yet, there’s only so much–and only much he himself can take before bursting.
“It’s okay but I think I think I’ll need something just a bit more…trying, if you understand.”
Toji only wishes you’d never said that even if the thought was bad enough. He’s been sitting on such a heavy bulge since you walked in, it’s almost hard for him to even think clearly. All the shushed pangs shooting through his pants, the mess of precum he’ll have to face, all the while he has you squirming right over his cock.
He can’t ignore it, a minute longer and he’ll burst from the sprinkles of friction he bears from your shifting hips. Toji has no choice but to scramble through his thoughts now. to find a solution to both growing problems.
“I-I have something we can try…if you’re okay with that, of course?”
All Toji needed to see was your eyes breaking wide, even your lips falling from that tight-knit pout to know just how dedicated to the cause you were.
“And what is it?”
“Get on your knees and I’ll show you.”
You were one to oblige if it meant you’d finally be cured. You were swift to part from Toji, pulling away from the hull of his chest to rest on the plush carpet. Your hands find rest over the curve of your knees as you face him.
You can’t deny it, the heat fizzling deep within your belly. Toji really didn’t have to tell you what he had planned but you knew it’d sound better coming from his sly lips. Why else would be seated on your knees if not to satisfy the growing bulge you’ve been warming for the past half hour?
In truth, the proposed idea was as bizarre as it was thrilling. Your mouth watered at every notion to pass through your brain. You’d finally have a taste of that man, to watch him fall apart at the warmth of your mouth, the swivels of your tongue, and the tight constrict of your throat–why it might just be enough to make you cum at last.
“Now what?” Your head falls into a puzzling tilt.
For his own idea, Toji had no clue where to proceed. Just the sight of you was enough to devastate Toji. You're sitting so politely on your knees, peering back up at him with those misty doe eyes beckoning for his trusty aid—it’s almost too much for him to take.
Toji’s run hot with hysterical anticipation for you. His skin’s bleeding with the purest hues of pink, dotting at the highs of his cheeks and ears alike. It’s embarrassing for him to say but all he can do is imagine how pretty your lips would look fitted around his cock, the swollen mounds laced around the fat head with conviction.
To reach whatever sick fantasy he’s planning, however, Toji’s forced to find an answer fit to satisfy you, one that won’t raise suspicions about his true ambitions.
“Uh…well…studies show that some people get highly aroused by giving pleasure. So let’s see how wet you get sucking me off, ’kay?”
The heat of Toji’s palm sinks into your cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing along your skin. For now, he’s ditched that hardened stare for a new one. He’s softer now, emerald hues glimmering with a hint of resolve for your cause. It’s a gradual pace but you’re falling into his care by the second.
“I’ll coach you through it all so we—I mean— you can get the best out of it. I’m doing this all for you, after all, Sweetheart.”
“Okay…if you think it’s gonna help me…fine. Just…don’t…don’t look at me while I do it.”
All you can do is give Toji a limp nod, granting you both to finally relax in each other’s presence. Your hands gravitate to the clasp of Toji’s belt, the cold metal buckle rattling apart. A gentle lift of his hips is all it takes for his navy slacks to rest bunched at his ankles, pulling his black briefs in tow.
It’s only natural for your eyes to settle upon the raw sight of his cock. Toji’s big, bigger than just what his aura’s led you to believe. But what are his words, his mannerisms, when compared to the hefty girth his cock holds? The tanned fat of his length lays along the ridges of Toji’s abs riddled with pudgy veins.
His balls come with a bloat so full that you’re sure just a mere pass of your tongue could pull every drop he has to offer. Though, it’s the tip of his cock that really earns your attention. The fat head wears only the prettiest imbues of pink and crimson, glossed in the spilling tears of precum.
Small hands lace around the thick girth of Toji’s cock, the flourished forked veins thumping in your hold. You let the fat mushroomed tip drift along your lips, the sheer weight sinking into the plush mounds for a kiss. It’s a soft kiss that you give, one that brings your lips to encircle every inch of the fat head. You can’t help but usher him deeper, a gentle suckle introducing Toji to the warmth of your mouth.
The pink bellhead sits heavy along the curve of your tongue. And suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with everything that relates back to Toji. His scent, taste, and even the heat budding within his cock become all you know.
You draw away for a moment, admiring the thin layer of gloss shrouding the head of his cock. Beneath the pad of your thumb is where your eyes fall flat on the thickest vein to entertain, fat and begging for attention.
The flat of your tongue curls at the vein, painting a wet trail of spit along the heavy underside of his cock. Toji’s the first to break the tense silence, his chest hoisting in a heavy breath. He’s already prepared to cum by your hand. Yet his eyes hinge on the sight of you teasing his cock, that pretty pink tongue innocently licking at his biggest weakness. It takes so much of him to hold back a groan, the poor man resorting to a spill of words instead.
“That’s it, just put your tongue on the underside ‘nd—h-haa…oh fuuck!”
A grin creeps at the corners of your mouth at Toji’s face, fluttering eyes, and laxed jaw. He’s piqued your curiosity, leaving you to wonder just how sensitive he is. You’ve barely done anything to him and yet he’s cast into a state of ruin.
You know it’s a crude thought to entertain but that still doesn’t stop your lips from sealing around the head of his cock once more. Inch by inch is how you take Toji into your mouth, your lips keeping a loose cling around his girth. Your mouth combs over the length of his cock gradually, leaving the thick sheens of spit as you take him in one swift motion.
Determination drives you drunk, your throat so eager to squeeze Toji of his worth. Already, his cock sits so homelily in your throat, his throbbing shaft shooting through your senses. It’s an unsettling virtue you carry, fighting the urge to gag and reject him in its entirety. But when you look back up at his drowsy eyes and fond grin, Toji’s bliss is the sole reason you’re still holding strong.
A burst of awe crackles through your mind. You simply have to admire your own achieved goal of being able to take all of Toji’s cock into your mouth. He makes it easy for you too, his encouraging words and all the head pats serving as your motivation.
“Yes, yes, yes, Right there, Y/N! Just a little bit more, get it all in your mouth.”
He’s trying his hardest to keep calm but it’s all so dizzying to him. You just feel so good around him, taking him like the good girl he knows you are. You’re just so cute, small hands pawing at his inner thighs. It’s taking all of Toji’s strength to keep his thick thighs from smothering you. It’s against your wishes to even blink at you, but Toji has half a mind to ignore the beauty between his very legs.
The onslaught of tremors quaking through Toji’s legs can only stand for one thing—he’s close. From the huffs of his lungs, winces rippling out his throat, and the heavy grip he keeps at the base of your neck, it’s more than even he can handle.
You pay Toji a glance of misty eyes fluttering with white. That evil glance of your eyes rolling back alone was his final straw. The heavy seize of nerves claims every bit of him hostage, leaving Toji to be still in your presence. A word doesn’t have to pass through his lips for you to understand what exactly entrances his heart, mind, and body. Not when a grip like his over the nape of your neck loosens all too quickly.
There’s no exact warning or way to prepare you for the heavy load Toji had for your sweet little throat. But when a squeal is all you can muster out as the thick spurts of white flood the walls of your throat, you know all too well to hold every drop in without delay.
“C’mere,” Toji huffs between breaths, pulling you to fill the expanse of space between his trembling thighs. You’re a mess before him— black patterned tears staining your plump cheeks, swollen lips smeared in a gloss of his precum, even your chin’s doused in a spool of spit that’s dribbled far down past your breasts.
All the mystery and innocence surrounding his favorite client was wiped clean by his very hands. It’s an artwork so rare he’s actually scared to ruin it. But that doesn’t stop Toji’s hands from crowding at your waist, tugging the dress to fall to the ground.
A sliver of Toji’s strength is all he needs to have you pinned beneath him, his hull of a body caging you in. He’s peppering the crook in kisses all over again, pulling you in with the hazy growl of his voice.
“I’m gonna fuck you ‘til all you can do is cum fr’ me.”
“I dunno, so far you’re the only one that’s had their issue fixed,” you pouted, your arms coming into a fold over your chest. Toji can’t help but chuckle at your reasoned display as he brings his knuckles to graze over the high of your cheeks.
It’s a steep threat he’s made indeed, he knows it. Toji’s made it his goal to see your orgasm through to the very end. That alone drives Toji’s hands to be hard at work, ridding himself of what clothes did occupy his body. The white button-down, the navy blazer of his suit, all tossed about the room without a single care. All that remains in his hand is his tie—his favorite one made of a precious white silk.
With his free hand, Toji pulls your arms from your sides and above your head, his sinister plan laid in plain sight. “Gimme your wrists. Can’t have you moving around when I’m at work.” His speech almost rivals that of the smooth fabric that comes to drape past your arms, lacing around to build the pretty bow the thin slack settling above your midway wrists.
Toji turns his attention down the course of your body, digits catching at the rim of your panties. There’s an amused grin that illuminates his sharpened features. He’s intrigued by every little detail to be found, thick fingers flicking at the limp bow in honest tease. He offers you a single glance, chuckling at the pout you wear so perfectly.
“Let’s take these off too, yeah?” Your hips rise to aid Toji, the cotton slipping down your legs and off into the hazy abyss of the office.
Toji’s cock comes to lay between your thighs, slipping right between the plump lips of your pussy. A gasp catches itself in your lungs as the sheer weight of his cock smothers against your clit. A gesture like that can’t afford to go unnoticed, especially under Toji’s keen eye. He has to entice you, to give you a reason to go forward with his senseless idea.
His hips fall into a mimicked pattern of rolls, driving his cock to graze across the hot bud of your clit. He knows it feels good too, to have the heavy length grind against you, the enriched veins plump with blood melding into nothing but white-hot ecstasy. He’ll even go as far as to ensure that the fat head of his cock smears along your clit, pressing the wettest of pecks upon the perked pearl.
He’d be lying if he said you didn’t arouse him. He’s entranced by all the dumb expressions passing over you. Every eye roll, pout, and whimper has him falling over himself. That’s why Toji has to close the distance between you both, his chest buried within the heat of yours. He’s so close that his lips have to purposely brush past your own, a flurry of kisses catching you two in the moment’s heat.
Toji pulls away at last when he knows you’ve had enough, the flushing cold sweeping over your bare physique. He peers down at the awaiting scene, his eyes greeted by his cock dressed in your spill of honey.
“See, just look at how wet you are. Oh, ‘m gonna fucking love this pussy, aren’t I?”
A final drag of his hips pits the thick head cock of Toji’s cock to nip at your fluttering hole, His hand snakes between you, bestowing a careless grip over his shaft. He’s swiping at your glossy slit in breathless awe as a single question arises in his mind.
“You can take it?”
“I can take it!” you whimper, giving a frantic nod to match.
“Then fucking take it. It’s all for you.”
Without another word, Toji’s cock sinks to fill you. It’s the initial drive that claims you, strikes of a ripping heat tracing along your walls. He’s only given you the tip and your poor hole already’s sobbing with a delicious burn. Inch by painstaking inch Toji fills you, your pussy finally giving way for more.
He’s aware he’s asking a lot of you but there really is no other choice but to bully your walls to take him. Yet Toji’s interested in something more heavenly than your enveloping pussy—your teary eyes aimed at the mess unfolding between your legs. An amused hum is all he can get out before his hands slip to brace your arching spine, pulling you up just enough to watch his sinking hips.
“See it? It’s goin’ in nice and slow just for you, pretty girl.”
Why you’re taking Toji well that more than half of his fat cock's been sucked in by the cute cries of your pussy. He’s overwhelming you, a sinful fact he has to ignore. He’s already in so deep that to pull out would only be criminal, not when he’s already to the hot gushing smothers of your walls.
If anything, Toji’s distracting his hinging guilt with your face all over again. It’s the pouts, the winces, the breathless gasps that soothe his guilt. He wants to know all that’s passing through your mind.
Toji’s hand comes to brace the limp fall of your jaw, breaking yet another moan from your lips.
The room’s growing heat carries you both together. A mere peck that grows for every second shared amongst you two. A shared hunger erupts and that alone always lands you in the timeless scene: drunk off each other and urgent for more.
There’s no sense of competition for the lead, no remnant of aggression, only the purest of intentions to be found. That careful art welcomes along the sticky chimes ringing about, the breathless hums of bliss, and Toji’s pitiful wince of desperation.
Toji’s almost in despair for it, the supple heat that the kiss from you provides. He’s so eager for it that he’ll chase every inch of you, Toji’s lips catching the drifting tides of your lips. He’s following your every nod, your every jolt, everything just to hold that extra second he has with you.
He breaks away just for the moment, still hopelessly searching to ease his doubts. His thumb traces the curve of your bottom lip, coaxing you to fall for his lustful spell. “Don’t be shy, baby. Tell me everything you wanna say. If you don’t, I’ll just hear it later.”
“Y’re so big, Toji! So big, and s’ deep! B-But I love it, m-makes me so good,” you babble aloud helplessly. It’s such a passionate ramble that it sends your pussy aflutter at the very thought, your walls capturing his length in an impassioned squeeze.
“Mhmmm—oh fuck, that’s a good girl!”
“M-Me? I’m a good girl?” Your eyes shooting wide at his words.
“‘Course you’re a good girl—My good girl! Takin’ me so well too.”
And he’s right, who else could handle so much of him other than you? His hips can reel from your own, pulling the full brute of his cock from the warmth of your pussy. finally sit against your own, the full brute of his cock sitting pretty in your pussy. He’s falling into the charitable realm of the moment. The matched breaths, the heat flushing out his senses, the throbbing pangs that bleed through his cock.
Toji’s hips only graze along your own for a moment before he’s sent into retreat. He reels away from your heat with a wince, the fat head being left to plug up your hole. His cock gravitates to fill you, desperate to overwhelm your walls with a splitting stretch. He was kind at first but now those lazy, laggard draws are now spiked with a swift drive.
The rolling tide of Toji’s hips feeds you his cock all too easily. He’s fucking right at it, hitting your sweet spot without a doubt. Bit by bit, he’s hitting deeper than before too, the prodding head sulling your cervix in messy pecks.
Your body tells him all he needs to know. All the gasps, broken moans, and even the bucks of your hips give Toji a prideful power high. It’s enough for him to ramble out with his thoughtless notions, calling in just very thing he’s itching to observe.
“Go on ‘nd play with yourself. Lemme see you play with that cute pussy of yours, Sweetheart.”
It’s a struggle, twisting your bonded arms to squeeze between what space Toji allowed. Your lithe fingers fight for a steady brace over the hood of your clit. It’s messy but you can manage painting loose circles over the slicked bud.
All Toji can do is coo at you and poor attempts, clicking his tongue in detest. He’s watching you, how your fingers can’t remain consistent over the puffy button. You’re shamefully lacking the pressure, the gradual teasing speed, all the tools needed to reach a proper orgasm—something he knows too much about.
“No wonder you can’t cum, you need so much lovin’ than that,” Toji surmises with a smear. He feels remorse for you, really. It’s no wonder you couldn’t achieve anything close to an orgasm, you needed more than what your body’s led on—all pent up with stress and anxiety, with no real way of release.
It’s because of his newfound pity that the pads of his thumbs break from your inner thigh to your cunt, prying the swollen mounds from their sticky clasp. His mouth purses at the reveal of your pussy, dribbling streams of drool to spill over your clit.
The heat of his thumb strums at your puffy hood, engraving traces of hearts and the bubbly lather of his spit to induce your impending high. He can feel how close you are, how you’re so hesitant to allow yourself something so sinfully deserving.
You have all you need to cum—his cock dragging at your walls in tempered heights, his worked thumbs calling your nerves into a spry rave. Toji’s even willing break his comfort for you, bringing his forehead to rest against your own. His eyes hold in line with yours, reaching to the depth of your very being with one single plea
“It’s okay, just relax. You gotta let it out…fr’ me, please?”
Your lips part to give some answer, but all that’s to come is a cracked sob. All you have left in you is a single roll of Toji’s hips, the dipping tides pulling forth your long-awaited high. Your walls clench him in place, forcing his thighs to catch the weeping salacious tears of your cunt.
Astonishment shatters Toji’s focused composure, his eyes pinned to the sight. At last, he can see it, your pussy sputtering out all the pent-up worries. It’s not until he peers back at you that he sheds such joy from mind, your bewildered expression searching for an explanation.
“I’m so sorry Toji! I-I don’t know what just happened, I just–”
“I don’t care about that!” He interjects with a boyish grin. You can’t help but study the more before you, the sticky thread of black hair stuck to his forehead, the dots of pink drifting across his cheeks. Toji doesn’t bother to pull out from you, his hips sending his cock to sit deeper inside you.
The excitement that breaks across him is contagious, your lips catching a grin similar to his. In celebration of his efforts, Toji can only smother you in kisses, his lips peppered along the highs of your polished cheeks.
“Question is…can you give me another?”
A feverish nod falls from your head, holding a weary smile in tow.
“Good. A pretty pussy like yours was always gonna need me anyways.”
#jujutsu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk drabbles#jjk smut#toji x reader#jjk toji#toji smut#toji fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu toji#toji fushigro x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#cw sex mention#cw smut#//✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀—𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈!//
283 notes
·
View notes
Text
where did it go wrong?
hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)
samy tries reeling with everything a few days after the breakup in hopes that her brothers may have some advice for her.
2.2k words
i feel like i never write anything with samy and her brothers, so here's luke and quinn trying to comfort samy through the breakup that she's still trying to understand. p.s. these breakup posts aren't going to be posted in a set order, so i may jump around in the timeline a bit :p
au masterlist
samy flew home two days after the breakup. she didn’t want to crowd ryan’s house even when he told her she could stay for as long as she wanted (which in reality meant he wanted her to stay until her and will made up). the girl knew she needed to go, though. she wanted to be home with her brothers and family who she prayed wouldn’t give her shit when she told them what happened. she knew her brothers would want to give will hell, but samy had enough mind still to know that wasn’t fair.
quinn, jack, and luke took themselves on a little fishing/camping expedition with their dad when samy got home, so she took those few days to just decompress and really comprehend everything that happened before those three bombarded her with a million questions.
a tiny knock sounded on her door and then the heavy frame cracked open a few inches. ellen’s locks of blonde hair came in to check on her daughter. she knew she needed space, but mrs. hughes knew her kids well and when they needed her.
“i made you some food downstairs,” ellen said gently.
“thanks. i’m not that hungry right now,” samy managed a small smile even though they both knew it was fake.
“how are you?” the older woman went to her daughter’s bed, sitting on the edge. the brunette shrugged.
“i don’t know. weird? stupid?” a pitiful laugh fell from her lips.
“oh, honey. you’re not stupid,” mrs. hughes wrapped samy into a tight hug which actually felt really nice. usually, samy wasn’t receptive to her parents’ touch, but right now she really needed it.
“everything we’ve been through meant nothing to him. our friendship, ruined. i just..i don’t get what i did wrong,” the girl wanted to cry again despite her crying out everything she had the last two days.
“no, no, you didn’t do anything wrong, baby. sometimes boys say one thing but they don’t actually mean it. maybe will’s just stressed about signing and it all came out the wrong way?” ellen tried. her words were genuine, but samy could never believe them knowing what her mom said was only trying to make her feel better.
“it sounded like he meant everything he said. he couldn’t even look me in the eye, mom. i just..i feel so stupid and used,” her daughter’s words hurt ellen’s heart. the woman just squeezed her baby tighter in hopes that she could ease the pain that she knew all too well being a teenager going through heartbreak.
the hughes’ brothers came home that night. samy was fast asleep, but ellen kept herself awake in the living room having her late night tea. she smiled softly when all three of her boys came barreling into the room to greet her.
“hey mom,” jack cheered, squeezing the older woman tightly.
“hi, boys. how was your trip?” ellen beamed as she took turns giving out her “welcome home” hugs.
“so great. we all caught massive 12 inchers. you should’ve seen them,” luke laughed as he dug for his phone to show the pictures.
“they were massive! like this wide! never seen a fish so big like that before!” jack exclaimed before mrs. hughes quickly put a finger to her lips.
“keep quiet. your sister’s asleep upstairs,” the boys immediately exchanged a glance.
“samy’s here? i thought she was in boston for a few weeks?” quinn wondered. the look on their mom’s face quickly told them that wasn’t the case anymore and then the worry set in after.
“it’s not my business to say, but your sister and will broke up,” ellen filled the boys in.
a quick beat of silence passed between all of them before a “what” fell from luke’s lips. their mom’s tiny nod and wordless response told the boys that what they were hearing was in fact real. after that realization, their expressions twisted into shock.
“wait, what happened? they broke up?” jack quickly asked for more details, but ellen shook her head.
“i’m not gonna be the one to tell your sister’s business, but don’t bombard her tomorrow. she’s pretty beat up about it and i don’t want you harassing will either. let her tell you on her own time, promise?” ellen demanded knowing questions from them wouldn’t help.
the boys weren’t the greatest at minding their own business, but quinn, jack, and luke would comply since their own siblings rules were to not push one another into speaking about something if they did not want to.
they just hoped this wasn’t as bad as it was sounding and their mom was making it out to be.
—
the next day, luke found his sister first. he just woke up twenty minutes ago despite it being nearly 12 in the afternoon. as he trailed into the kitchen in search of food, he caught sight of samy sitting out on the back porch. the older boy debated for a second wondering if it was the right time to be asking, but he figured company wouldn’t hurt either way.
he trailed outside with some cereal. samy gazed over at his warm smile while he took the chair next to hers.
“mom said you guys caught big fish,” the girl began, managing a small smile.
“jesus, they were huge. i’ve never seen fish that big before,” luke laughed lightly.
“i bet you dropped them,” the younger hughes teased making luke roll his eyes.
“stop, i did not. you would’ve dropped them if you were there though,” the brunette smiled.
“shut up,” samy rolled her eyes too.
“wish you were there. would’ve been so fucking funny watching all four of us trying to camp together,” luke laughed again. his words made samy smile again before it slowly faded as her gaze fell on their yard.
“yeah, me too,” she said quietly. her brother’s gaze fell on her as he studied her. he could tell how hurt she looked despite how much she tried hiding it. he didn’t know if it was appropriate bringing it up, but luke didn’t have to think much more because samy brought it up first.
“i’m sure mom told you,” samy began.
a small frown appeared on luke’s lips, “yeah..she did last night when we got home. i’m really, really sorry, samy.”
“i don’t even know what happened. it looks like he doesn’t even fucking care after seeing his signing post,” the pictures dropped yesterday making will’s move to california official and the worst part of it all was how happy he looked in that fucking picture.
“that can’t be true. he does care. he cares a lot about you,” luke tried.
“not anymore, i guess. he said long distance wasn’t worth it for me and then everything between us meant nothing to him,” samy summed it up. luke’s jaw tightened hearing that.
“he’s an idiot, samy. none of that is true, you know that.”
all his sister could do was shrug because she thought she knew will like the back of her hand, but after what happened, she wasn’t quite sure anymore. he threw everything they had away just like that and now it looked like he was completely okay. a small sigh escaped luke’s lips seeing that he didn’t know what else to say besides how sorry he was for it.
even he couldn’t believe will would do something like this. the boy’s known that kid his whole life and it looked like a lot was going to shift between everyone’s dynamic.
“maybe you guys will be able to talk it out when july comes for the family vacation? like you guys just need some time apart or something to cool off a bit,” luke suggested a bit hopefully.
“fuck, i forgot about that stupid vacaction. think mom would let me skip that?” samy groaned, head falling back out of frustration.
seeing that reaction from her after samy always being excited for the hughes/smith vacation made luke realize how serious this breakup was. if samy was trying to get out of the vacation she’s loved for years, then maybe there wasn’t a chance of the two making up.
“probably not, but i mean, it just happened. maybe things will feel different by the time july comes?”
“are you for real trying to tell me how to feel about my boyfriend breaking up with me right now?” the younger hughes narrowed her eyes.
“no, that’s not what i’m saying. i’m just saying that you guys were best friends. there’s history. that kind of shit can’t be thrown away that easily, no matter how much you wanna throw it away. plus, what happened to you guys staying friends even if you broke up?” the older boy inquired.
“seems like that never mattered to him ever. this kind of thing can be thrown away, luke. just because we have history doesn’t mean it’s a fixer for everything.”
luke backed off after that knowing he didn’t wanna argue with samy. Instead, he rubbed her shoulder in hopes that everything would work out and will and samy would be back to normal by the end of the summer. everyone had bumps in their relationships at one point or another. this was just a bump for the two.
—
“if you’re out here to talk to me about my breakup, i’ve already heard it from mom and dad,” samy mumbled when she heard some footsteps behind her on the porch. they stopped momentarily, so she glanced over her shoulder to quinn frozen in place with two bowls in his hand.
“i was just offering you some ice cream. i just picked it up,” the oldest hughes held the bowl out. samy studied her older brother for a moment as her expression softened out a bit.
the breakup had made her a bit more meaner than she was before when she didn’t necessarily mean it.
“oh, sorry. thank you,” she smiled.
quinn took the spot beside her on the stairs as he handed her the bowl. the two didn’t speak much as they slowly ate their ice cream together and enjoying the sun slowing setting for the night.
it was known that quinn wasn’t the one to pry into his siblings feelings. he always let them start speaking first if they even wanted to. the oldest hughes sat in the back more just happy to keep them company. they could hear jack and luke yelling at one another from the living room inside where they battled over some video game—one’s samy hated and quinn was a bit too old for.
the comfortable silence lingered for a bit longer before samy decided to speak, “be honest with me quinn, do you think he was gonna break up with me all along?”
her question caught the dark-haired guy off guard. he wasn’t expecting her to bring it up considering the two didn’t talk about feelings in this way with just each other before.
“god, no. i never thought you guys would ever break up,” quinn said honestly.
“then why do you think he did? i’ve been trying to run over every reason since i got home and i just..it doesn’t make sense to me,” samy frowned which in turn made quinn frown too. he always hated seeing his siblings sad.
“when i was your age and got drafted i remember i had about a thousand thoughts running through my head at the idea of moving so far away from home at some point. the idea scared me, honestly. i’ve never been away from home like that. sometimes when people are going through these big changes, they make rash decisions thinking it’s for the best when it’s actually not. there’s a chance will could’ve been feeling..overwhelmed? scared? everything just came out the wrong way? i know those aren’t excuses, but big changes in people’s lives make them a totally different person,” the oldest hughes answered honestly.
in some ways, he knew all too well about those feelings will could be feeling. moving to a new state anywhere far away from home sent a lot of anxiety into people when they didn’t even realize it.
“i guess. i just feel so stupid. like why didn’t he talk to me more? why did he just choose this option first,” the girl mumbled.
“it’s hard to say. i’m sorry this happened. breakups are the worst.”
“how do you get over breakups?” samy wondered hoping quinn had some expert older brother advice that might make her feel better.
“well, i’d usually head to the rink and shoot pucks around until i nearly broke my stick. i think getting any of your anger out is the first step to anything, then your mind will become a little more clear without the angry, rash decisions that you were just thinking of in the moment,” samy wondered why she didn’t go to quinn more often for advice.
“okay mr. wise guy. i forgot being 24 makes you wise because your brain finished developing,” the brunette teased a bit earning a small eye roll from her brother.
“i guess. i’m always here for you, yeah?” he nudged her leg with his own and samy nodded.
“yeah, thanks quinny,” the siblings sat there for a little bit longer together with samy’s head on quinn’s shoulder. it wasn’t often they got to spend time together by themselves, so samy would savor it while she could before her oldest brother got whisked away again for hockey.
#hughes!sister x will smith au#will smith hockey#samy x will#samy hughes#will smith x oc#umich hockey#uofmichigan#boston college hockey#boston college#will smith imagine#will smith hockey angst#team usa#san jose sharks#sjs#luke hughes#quinn hughes#bc eagles#bc hockey
134 notes
·
View notes
Text
「quitting cigarettes and picnics」 Art Donaldson x F!reader
you can read the other parts here!
━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━
"no smoking" you take the cigarette from his hand just as he is about to light it with the lighter, you sit up on the picnic blanket and his head falls against the grass in frustration.
"Not againnn" he whines, his hand still in the position it was when he still had the cigarette between the fingers.
"it's bad for your health" you say a stern tone, trying to come across as assertive, you've been trying to get him to stop smoking for some time now, you place the cigarette back in the packet carefully.
"Please, I smoked only four the whole week!" he reaches for the packet again but you put it in the back pocket of your jeans
"And I'm really proud of you, but let's keep it that way and also, tennis players don't smoke".
"Federer actually doe-".
"I don't care what other tennis players do" you interrupt him and Art laughs out loud as you slap his shoulder lightly.
"I'm serious Art, smoking is a horrible addiction, and it's not good for your health at all" he looks at you from his lying position, an affectionate smile on his face as you show your concern for his health.
His hand reaches for yours and bring it to his lips to kiss it "It's hard to stop, I've been doing it since I was 16, give me some time I promise I'll stop, for you" his hands takes yours over his heart.
The feel of his lips against you your hand calms you down a little, it's a small and simple gesture, but it means a lot. Hearing him say that he wants to stop smoking for you makes your heart flutter. You look into his eyes and see sincerity there, "I don't want you to stop for me, I want you to do it for yourself" you say in a serious tone, your eyes locking with his to emphasize the importance of this decision.
"Look, if you give me one last cigarette I'll never smoke again" his pinky is out for you to take and you look skeptical at him "you promise?" you ask.
"I swear."
You study his face, your eyes looking him over for any sign of dishonesty, after a moment of searching, you see nothing but honesty in his expression. You link pinkies with him and chuckle "okay, but only because you pinky promised" you grab the packet out from your pocket and hand him the cigarette, a few moments later the cigarette is lit between his lips and he inhales from it.
You watch him intently, the way his lips wraps around the cigarette, the way his chest puffs up as he inhales the smoke, taking in every detail of this moment "I gotta say... you look really hot right now" you admit and Art rests his back against the tree you two are resting under, the sun is warm and the breeze is so pleasing on the skin, Stanford's park in spring is so beautiful, he is so beautiful.
A slight smile forms on his lips as he takes in another drag from his cigarette. He looks over to you and whispers playfully "not as hot as you" his eyes locks with yours, his focus solely on you and the way your eyes sparkle in the sunlight. He lifts his hand and gently brushes a stray strand of hair out of your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.
He holds in the smoke for a few seconds before blowing it out in the opposite direction, away from your face. He takes another drag from the cigarette, savoring the taste and the feeling of the smoke filling his lungs one last time. He lets out a small chuckle and looks back at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "You really think I'm hot when I smoke?" he teases, his voice low and husky as he holds the cigarette between his fingers, you nod.
"Maybe I shouldn't stop then" your brows furrows slightly as you try to maintain a serious expression, but his teasing words and his cheeky smile make it difficult to keep a straight face. You pretend to consider his proposal, to be deep in thought before responding with a playful tone "hmm... I guess you have a point there" you say with a wry smile as you try to keep up the facade of seriousness, "but I think you would be hotter if you did what I ask" Art scoffs.
"always so bossy".
You chuckle softly, "what can I say? I like taking charge" you reach out and grab his hand, lacing your fingers with his, your thumb gently caressing the back of his hand. A mischievous smile forming on his lips.
"Not always though" he answers and you blush. He grins even wider when he sees your red cheeks, relishing in the fact that he can have such a strong effect on you with just a few words. "aww, did I make you blush? " he teases, gently pinching your cheek, you swat his hand away and he realizes he totally forgot the cigarette he has in his other hand.
He chuckles with you and takes a final drag from the almost finished cigarette before extinguishing it on the grass, making sure it is completely out, he grabs your wrist to get you near him "alright, no more smoking, I promise" he says with a smile before leaning in "I think I deserve a kiss" but you push him by his chest.
"No kissing".
He pouts dramatically, his lips sticking out in a playful show of disappointment "aw, cmon, just a little kiss?" he pleads, trying to coax you into giving in to his charms, but you're not budging.
You hold firm, shaking your head with a smile and chuckle "nice try, but nope, I hate tasting the tabacco when we kiss".
He lets out a long, dramatic sigh and feigns a wounded expression, "oh, that's right" he says, his shoulders sagging as he looks up at you with a pitiful look, "but what about just a peck on the cheek, huh?" he reaches out and pokes your side, you yelp "just a little kiss, I'm desperate for your affection" he says with a playful grin, "don't leave a man hanging".
You sigh and lean in to kiss his cheek softly, "thank you" you whisper and he smiles lovingly at you, you feel his hand slip into your back pocket, placing the cigarettes there, it's a small gesture, but it means a lot. A sense of trust and comfort washes over you as you look up into his eyes, the love and admiration you have for him clear as day. You smile and lay next to him, your head on his chest as you close your eyes, the birds chirping are bullying you to sleep and you hug his waist tightly.
As he holds you in his embrace, his fingers caressing your back, lulling you into a state of contentment and relaxation. For a moment you're both quiet, just enjoying each other's company in the warm summer air, the gentle rustling of leaves and the sound of the other students nearby creating a peaceful soundtrack to the scene. He shifts slightly, pulling you closer to him as he rests his chin on top of your head.
"We should get up, we don't want to be waken up by the sprinklers... again" you mumble and Art laughs at the memory.
"You're right, we definitely don't want that" he says with a grin, he runs his hand down your side to give your hip a squeeze and gives you one last lingering kiss on the top of your head before reluctantly letting go of you, sitting up straight. With a content sigh, he stretches his arms above his head before getting up on his feet, you're up on your feet seconds later.
After folding the blanket to put it in Art's backpack his hand takes yours "wanna sleep in my room tonight? we could order take out and watch a movie" he suggests and you nod happily "sounds good" you yawn and rest your head on his shoulder as he guides you towards his room.
"Brush your teeth first, I wanna kiss you" you mumble and Art laugh softly 'always so bossy' he thinks as he looks down at you lovingly.
"yes m'am".
━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━
I can't stop writing and posting lol, but he would stop smoking for you and I will die on that hill.
Do not copy or repost.
#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson x you#art donaldson imagine#art donaldson fluff#art donaldson#challengers#challengers fic
116 notes
·
View notes
Note
I genuinely wanna know about Brittany and Eddie's story. Like how did they meet? What kind of relationship did they have? Did they actually love each other at one point or were they just irrational horny?
I love that you want to know what led up to the toxicity that we see between the two of them now. That genuinely makes my heart so happy. Showing is easier than telling when it comes to the question “what did of relationship did they have?” so if you have any specific questions or scenarios you’d wanna hear about between them, I would be happy to elaborate! They did genuinely love each other at some point. Was it ever the same point in time? Ever the same amount? All things that are debatable. But yes, they both did truly love one another somewhere along the way. And as for how they met, I know Eddie briefly mentioned it to reader in the past, so I thought I might expand a bit on that here!
Warnings: Brittany cause she needs her own warning tbh, Eddie gets hard cause he’s a dumb young boy, reader is not in this
Words: 1.2k
[As You Wish masterlist]
It’s been a good day for Eddie Munson so far. He came up with a great ending for the campaign he’s been hard at work on, Ms. O’Donnell had a substitute, and Jeff booked a new gig for Corroded Coffin next week. Now, to top it all off, he has one of his best customers meeting him, meaning he’ll score some great cash.
Eddie sits on top of the picnic table, metal lunchbox at his hip, tossing pretzels in the air and trying to catch them in his mouth. Two have hit him in the nose and one in the eye, but for the most part, he’s doing pretty well at it.
Distant giggling catches Eddie’s attention and he puts his baggie of pretzels back into the pocket of his jeans. Chrissy is always a bubbly person but even she doesn’t just laugh to herself for no reason. But she’s not alone, Eddie realizes as he glimpses two green cheerleader skirts approaching through the trees.
Hawkins High isn’t a big school, so Eddie’s seen all the cheerleaders around, even if he couldn’t tell you their names. Honestly, he probably wouldn’t be able to pick out their faces either if they weren’t in their uniforms. Why pay attention when sports are so far out of his realm?
Eddie fiddles with his cross ring as the girls approach and he can hear them talking, laughing over something together. He wonders if the other girl is here to score something too, or just tagging along with her friend. If she’s looking to buy, what could he talk her into?
A twig snaps as Chrissy finally steps into the small clearing, her friend a step behind her.
“Hey, Eddie,” Chrissy says, already reaching into her sweater pocket for the cash.
“Hi,” Eddie greets, but his gaze is already stuck on the second blonde cheerleader. Usually, there’d be a goofy smile on Eddie’s face if he were staring at a girl he was attracted to, but he has enough self awareness in the moment to realize he’s actually giving this girl a pretty charming smile.
Chrissy looks up and sees the two of them looking at one another. Brittany’s smiling right back at Eddie and it’s a smile Chrissy’s seen her friend give a million guys. Sighing as she counts the cash in her hand, Chrissy wonders if she should warn Eddie or if Brittany’s gaze will even stay on the metalhead for more than this afternoon.
“Um, the usual?” Chrissy asks, stepping closer to the picnic table.
No response. Eddie’s attention doesn’t stray from Brittany.
Chrissy purses her lips, silently wondering how long these two can stare at one another before someone busts them out here for doing a drug deal. Sure, no one ever comes out here but if these two don’t stop with the heart eyes, someone is bound to come by eventually. Maybe the cops when the three students never come home from school. Brittany’s parents are definitely the type to panic if they don’t know where their daughter is every minute of every day.
“Eddie?” Chrissy tries again.
“Huh?” Eddie blinks, tearing his gaze from the curvy stranger in front of him. “Oh, right. Uh, yeah. Half ounce? It’s fifteen.”
Chrissy hands him the cash and quickly stashes the small bag of green buds he hands her into the pocket of her sweater.
“And um,” Eddie drawls, eyes traveling back to Brittany, “what about you? Anything I can get you?”
The blonde with the heart-shaped face walks forward, hips swaying with every step. She gazes at Eddie from beneath her perfectly made up eyelashes and gives him a coy smile.
“I don’t think there’s anything in that little black box to satisfy me,” she says, her voice sickly sweet coming from those pretty pink glossed lips.
The sultriness in her tone goes straight to Eddie’s cock.
Swallowing down a groan and trying to conjure visions of Wayne’s old army buddies drunk and rowdy to diffuse his boner, Eddie slaps his ringed hands on his thighs.
“Well,” Eddie says, pushing himself up to stand on the wooden seat of the picnic table. He walks booted heel to toe until he comes to the edge of the wooden plank, then hops down, crushing autumn leaves beneath his feet. “You’ll just have to let me know what I can do to satisfy you, then.” Eddie slips his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and quirks up the corner of his mouth into a smile as he takes a few steps closer to Brittany. “Might even give you a discount.”
“Hmm,” Brittany hums, eyes clearly raking up and down Eddie’s form as she chooses her next words. “That’s a lot to consider. I think I’ll have to take some time to think on that one, Eddie Munson.”
His name on her lips throws him for a loop. Not that he wasn’t well-known around school for one reason or another, but the fact that she knows his name, who he is, and is still standing here flirting with him confounds him. Especially when she doesn’t even want to buy drugs.
“You know my name?” He’s aware it’s not the most suave thing to say, but his curiosity is far too piqued not to inquire further.
“I do,” is her only reply.
Eddie chuckles and presses a hand to his Metallica tee-clad chest.
“Isn’t it only fair I know the name of the fair maiden before me?”
Brittany giggles, her nose scrunching up as she turns her head to look at Chrissy.
“He is a nerd. But it’s adorable,” she says, looking back to Eddie.
Eddie sketches a bow, as if to further prove the point. It makes Brittany giggle again and the sound fills Eddie with excitement.
“I’m Brittany,” she introduces herself. “Brittany Sobachkin.”
Before Eddie gets the chance to say anything, Brittany grabs a black pen from an outer pocket of her backpack and shoves up the sleeve of Eddie’s leather jacket as far as it will go. The tip digs into his skin as she jots down seven numbers, replaces the cap, and puts the pen back in her bag.
“If you come up with anything you think can satisfy me, give me a call,” Brittany says.
Eddie stares at the numbers before lifting his head and nodding at the pretty blonde in front of him.
“I won’t let my brain rest until it comes up with something,” he vows.
Chrissy steps up next to Brittany and loops her arm through her fellow-cheerleader’s.
“Thanks, Eddie,” Chrissy says with a cheerful smile at the man, making it clear to the two others in the space that this is her initiating the goodbye. “Same time next week, yeah?”
“I’ll be here.” Eddie shrugs, turning to look around at the small clearing surrounding them.
“Will I have to wait that long to hear from you?” Brittany asks, lower lip sticking out in a pout.
“Absolutely not,” Eddie says with a bright grin.
“Good.” Brittany steps forwards and takes the pick necklace hanging around Eddie’s neck in between two of her perfectly manicured fingers. “I’ll see you around, Eddie.”
“You know where to find me.” He internally winces, wishing he could’ve come up with something better to say, but the girls are already turning away.
“Bye,” Chrissy trills, waving over her shoulder.
Eddie lifts one hand out of his pocket to give a single wave in return.
Once Eddie can no longer hear the girls’ fading footsteps in the leaves or twigs, he lets out a loud, large sigh, and collapses back against the picnic table.
“Well, fuck,” he says to himself with a small laugh. “I’m gonna marry her someday.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#AYW#AYWS#Request
82 notes
·
View notes
Note
I just found your page and stalked all your writing lol, it’s absolutely amazing and I’m highly obsessed now!! from the prompt list for jily: “What are we?” + “I would like us to be more than friends.” (Head students era confession?)
oh you mean my favourite jily era??? my pleasure! ps uhhh pls don't count the words on this one
from this prompt list
James has thought about the moment at least once an hour, every day, for about two months now. Putting it into perspective like that makes him come face-to-face with the fact that he’s even more ridiculous than he’s usually comfortable admitting.
And James has always known he’s ridiculous.
The conversation plays out a million different ways in his head, like a lucid dream he can only sort of control and only up until a certain point because it’s Lily, and he stopped trying to predict her next move long ago.
It’s why she always beats him at chess. He knows her—really knows her, not like he used to think he did—but he’ll never be able to anticipate what she’ll say or do. Full of surprises, she is.
Somehow, though—his brain, in the infinite possibilities it’s constructed, failed to think of even one situation in which she would be the one asking him.
“What are we?” she asks, sitting on the bench next to him outside Scrivenshaft’s, her thermos of tea warming her hands. She's wrapped in her Gryffindor scarf with a green knit cap pulled down over her ears, auburn curls spilling out and flying around with each heavy gust of the biting January wind. She's perfect and he just—
Stares at her.
“Okay,” she says, laughing, then takes a long sip of her tea, her gaze shifting to the empty street in front of them. It’s still early, so most of the Hogsmeade crowd is either having a lie-in or getting breakfast at the Three Broomsticks.
James and Lily got out of the castle as quickly as they could in order to make the most of their day. Day, not date, because they’re friends. Sort of. Most of the time. Except for when she flirts with him and he flirts back and that one time last week when he’s almost positive she was going to kiss him and that other time last week he is positive he was going to kiss her. And all the other moments that makes him absolutely lose his head.
“Never mind,” she says, and she’s bloody smiling. “I thought we…” Another slow, agonising sip. “Never mind.”
James feels the panic set in, just like when they play chess. It’s his move, he knows it’s his move, but which way can knights move, and how many spaces can bishops take, and—
“You’re freaking out,” she observes casually. He doesn’t know when she looked back at him.
“What?” he manages, the word sounding squeaky.
She might smile again, then. He can’t be sure, because she’s lifted the thermos back up to her lips.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I thought you were ready.” She tilts her head, studying him. “I’ve been trying to pick a good moment, you know. To talk about this. But…” She shrugs. “Guess I was wrong.” She caps her thermos of tea and stands from the bench then, looking down at him. “Wanna go to Honeyduke’s?”
“Do I want to—” He shakes his head, blinking rapidly, then looks up at her, sharply. “Huh?”
Lily laughs softly. “It’s almost ten,” she says, like this was the root of his confusion. “We can be first to the Pick ‘N Mix for once.”
She’s talking about candy. She’s just asked him to define their entire complicated relationship and then—without waiting even a moment for him to catch his breath—started talking about candy.
“Can you…” He frowns, struggling to find his words. (Struggling to remember how to breathe.) “Sit down…please,” he finally manages.
Thankfully, she doesn’t argue, settling back down on the bench beside him. He certainly doesn’t have the wherewithal to match wits with her right now if she chooses to be stubborn.
“I need a…a minute.”
“Okay,” she says, and pops the lid back off her thermos, gracefully pouring herself another shallow cup of tea. “You know,” she says, conversationally, “this works loads better than a heating charm. Marlene says I’m mad for lugging it all about Hogsmeade, but how else can I secure an infinite amount of tea to get me through the day? We don’t have a spell for that yet, do we?”
“Are you—” He breaks off and turns toward her on the bench. “Are you enjoying this?”
Her lips twitch up into a small smile. “Perhaps a little.”
He shuts his eyes tight and groans.
“I intend to be your girlfriend by the time we graduate, Potter,” she says, and he doesn’t know when she’s leaned toward him, but he can smell the peppermint tea on her breath and feel it tickle the hair near his ears. The bench creaks as she moves back away from him, taking his heart with her. “We’ve got, oh—” A pause. “Six more months. I’m not in a hurry.”
Not in a hurry. What the hell is wrong with him? He’s been waiting for this for six years. Well, perhaps that’s a bit dramatic, but—this calls for being dramatic! She’s just admitted to wanting to be his girlfriend—his girlfriend!—and he’s fumbling the Quaffle so bad he’s about to be benched.
He can’t let this moment pass by without saying something.
“Girlfriend!” he blurts out
“Is that—” Her grin grows, even as her cheeks flush pink. “Was that an offer, or are you auditioning for the role of a caveman in a play I didn’t know Hogwarts was putting on?”
James wants to pull his hair out of his head. He wants to pull it out of his head and make a nest, so he can hide forever, like those bald little baby eagles he saw with his parents on the coast last summer.
“No, I want to—let’s talk.”
She sets the thermos on the bench between them and lifts up her hands, counting her fingers one at a time as her lips move wordlessly. “Wow. Six words.”
“Lily, can—you…”
“Okay, okay,” she says, with a giggle. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop taking the piss, I swear. Let’s talk.” Folding her hands in her lap, she looks at him expectantly. “Do you want to go first, or should I?”
He gives her a significant look, making her laugh again, but she nods.
“Alright,” she begins, “well I don’t have much to say, really.” She shrugs, her legs dangling back and forth over the bench, just shy of touching the snowy ground. “I like spending time with you. I think you’re ridiculously fit. You’re a good person and—I really want to be able to kiss you without wondering if it’ll ruin everything.”
James has always found most Muggle swears to be rather lacking in oomph, but now—
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Oh,” he says.
“So, Potter,” she drawls, nudging his shin with her foot, “what are we?”
“I would—” he starts, then pauses, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter. “I would…like us to be more than friends.”
“Oh,” she echoes, her foot hooking behind his on the ground in front of them.
“Lily.”
“Hm?”
“I’ve had a—a whole speech ready. For weeks.” he confesses. “But right now, my brain is…cold, I think. So I don’t want you to take my lack of…words…as a lack of enthusiasm. I’m…very enthused.”
Lily looks at him, jade eyes blazing. “Will I get to hear the speech in the near future?”
“Do you…want to?”
“I want to hear anything you have to say, Potter,” she says simply.
“Are you sure because—”
“Yes,” she replies, moving closer. Her wind-chapped lips stop a breath away from his. “What are we, James?”
He inhales deeply and doesn’t think again before murmuring, “Everything,” and closing the gap between them.
85 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
reboundbutera
reboundbutera
-amandakaitlyn
AmandaKaitlyn
lockzbae
Everyone deserves a great love story;
askg3ponies
Ask the 3rd Generation Ponies
spywifefeet
spywifefeet