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planete777 · 1 year ago

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getting high with lando and u somehow end up on his lap and u kinda accidentally grind down on him and he moans and says that feels rlly good and ur just like yeah? and u end up riding him

I WANNA RIDE・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI, getting high (as per), p in v unprotected sex (practise safe sex guys!!), semi public sex, riding, a little bit of body worship, high!lando x reader being hot (as per pt. 2)

NOTE. anon prbly wanted this as a small thought post, but i had to write a proper fic coz planete.exe 404 error: BRAINROTTING! so plz enjoy my first ever smut (sorry if it sucks i tried), and remember, don't get high!! or do wtv u please.... ok bye 🫶

SIDENOTE. my askbox is open! feel free to send in any thoughts, scenarios, requests etc about high!lando 🤍

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all in the name of needed getaways, y/n and lando find themselves in the aforementioned's car, basking just behind the local park, where the sunset could perform best. clocks are just shy of 7pm, the wind a couple of degrees cooler than hours prior, and sitting in their adjacent seats with doors wide open, both lando and y/n have lit and inhaled their spliffs by second nature.

lando's beyond glad that the vehicle is out of plain sight, veiled by thick trees and bushes, because he was completely struck, dazed with not a thought in mind, and the sight would make a journalist's field day. yet, it's the thrill that keeps him flippant to all seriousness and discretion. the presence of y/n, uncaring and completely liberal in nature, gives him a second identity to just let it all go and succumb to the skewed vision and thrumming fingertips.

seats reclined by a bit, lando's foot rests just below the dashboard, y/n the same but with both instead, and lando can't feel a thing.

it's light conversation that carries the mood, punctuated by the aux that y/n has complete control over, and the rest of the world simmers away as they let the high take them before the ombres of the sky. it gets chiller, and it knocks y/n into partial sobriety slamming her side of the door shut.

"shut the door, lan', it's fucking cold now."

he groans, "nah, can't move."

he hears her sigh, mumbling a disappointed 'dickhead' beneath her breath, and he smiles before zoning out again. a few seconds of shuffling commences, then weighted friction lands so heavily on his thighs that it excavates a vehement puff of air out of him, red eyes snapping open. he can't say anything, not when y/n leans to grab the door shut and grinds on him with so much force that it has to be intentional.

lando knows he accomodated a semi throughout the whole car ride. something about seeing his best friend in her element turns him on so much that he could probably cum untouched.

but now, he feels too much, there's pressure on his dick, accompanied by warmth only y/n could emanate, and the moan that flies out of him rumbles in his chest.

"fuck, that feels good."

y/n freezes as she settles again, but then she's smirking, and no matter how more shut than open his eyes are, he can see it blatantly.

"yeah?" her voice sounds light and airy, and it runs lando mad.

"mhm." his chest is heaving up and down with a quickened velocity, and he feels far from being at the peace he was just seconds before.

the girl leans in, lips tracing along the skin of his neck with a phantom touch, and lando can feel every single inch of his resolve melt away. his hands rest on her hips, teasing a slip beneath her hoodie, and he squeezes, hard.

she goes higher, and higher, stopping at his ear, "let me ride you."

then it's all gone. composure complete in lack, his hand reaches up to her nape and slams her lips against his for a gratifying kiss. his eagerness is matched instantaneously, y/n combing her hands through lando's curls and tugging so hard that he nearly fears that some would rip out of their roots.

nothing amounts to the all encompassing sensation of y/n everywhere. her grinding turns more frantic, and he pushes her down hastily, hands crawling upon the skin of her back.

"get your dick in me, lan'," she says, with no room for more words, and he does just that, welding their lips together again as he fumbles with the knot of his joggers.

y/n finds a way to free herself of her hoodie, leaving her in nothing but her bra, and lando, pushing down to free his hard, aching dick, expresses his distaste for that.

"take it off, y/n."

she's smirking, and lando's losing it even more, "what? you're gonna suck them out here?"

he almost finds it offensive that she doesn't think he'll worship her anywhere. public be fucking damned, he'd be at her mercy whenever he could.

"and you'll fucking love it."

"damn right."

just as she unclips her bra, she grabs lando's dick, and, unprecedentedly, sheaths herself in.

everything is hot. god, he can't do anything but moan and moan again, shutting his eyes and going completely limp. it doesn't deter y/n, in fact, her wet, tight cunt squeezes and grinds upon lando's dick without mercy and the pleasure that soars through him burns and tickles.

"oh fuck fuck fuck," lando's mouth rains profanities, and as he goes to open his eyes, y/n moans and they roll back shut again. he's red all over, feels his t-shirt sticking to his skin with sweat, and the girl keeps on bouncing and grinding. he can't survive with it on, and so he yanks it off, coming skin-to-skin with y/n's naked chest.

"fuck lan'."

she can say nothing more, and neither can he, his hips thrusting upwards to meet hers. she lets out a high pitched moan, and lando's ears ring as he brings his hands up to cup her breasts. they fill them so perfectly, and his mouth waters like it aches for honey, attaching it to her left nipple and sucking it like he was running mad. he's drunk off her essence, a complete goner, and y/n throws her head back as her grinds slow down.

"feels so fucking good."

she's so deep in euphoria that she's on the verge of tears, and lando decides to let himself do the work, grabbing her hips and grinding upwards frantically.

the car smells sharply of sex, humid and steaming up the windows, and y/n hazily complements the scent with a drag of weed, eyes rolling back, and mouth puffing out pouts of smoke and moans. she feels the knot tighten in her gut and her toes curl just as lando sloppily licks wet kisses up her chest and neck, then into her mouth.

the kiss is barely one, filled with clashing teeth and the exchange of sighs, but lando keeps their mouth attached, sneaking a hand into hers to steal the spliff. y/n lets him, jaw slackened and too tired to engage in the tangle of tongues either.

"fuck, i'm cumming— shit shit shit!"

"cum with me y/n, cum on my dick," lando slurs out, taking the roll into his mouth before inhaling and exhaling the white smoke. his dick spasms sporadically, sensitive and completely throbbing as he spurts right into y/n's cunt, feeling her own coat and pool at the base of his dick.

they can barey ride down their high, exhausted and completely satiated, and all y/n can do is rest her head on lando's shoulder, rubbing her hands up and down his chest as he does the same.

#‧₊˚✩彡 planete.thinks: high!lando #lando norris #lando norris smut #lando norris fic #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris scenarios #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #f1 smut

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cherryredlove · 6 months ago

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☆ bad girls get punished ☆

Modern! au Gwayne Hightower x reader SMUT

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

You and bestie Aegon are proper party freaks. Your life is a glittering rollerocaster of whiskey, cigs, and banging tunes. So when Aegon invites you to his ancestral home for the summer, why are you so attracted to his highbrow uncle?

Word Count: 2.1k

Themes: SMUT, 18+, alcohol consumption, cigarettes, older man x younger woman, spanking, p in v, domination kink, praise, hair pulling kink, creampie

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

When your number 1 bestie (he'd gut you if you said otherwise) Aegon Targaryen first invited you to spend the summer with him at Dragonstone Manor, you were skeptical. Aegon was your best friend, a proper party freak like you, always up for a good time. He'd been there through everything, every shitty breakup, every hangover nursed with a takeaway.

You were the hottest students at Blackwater University and by Gods did you two know it.

Spending a summer with Aegon promised excitement, but there was something about leaving the familiar chaos of city life for the unknown allure of his ancestral home of Dragonstone that made you pause.

Yet, here you were, standing at the grand entrance of Dragonstone Manor, gazing at its ancient stone walls that seemed to tower into the sky, trying not to throw up from nerves. You could handle a rave, but meeting family was a different story.

Aegon bounded up the steps ahead of you, his platinum hair shining in the sunlight, and pushed open the large oak doors. You thanked the Gods he was chiller than you were right now.

"Welcome to Dragonstone, babe," he declared with a cheeky grin. "The place is a bit stuffy, but it grows on you. Wait till you meet my family. They're gonna love you."

The manor was as grand inside as you had imagined, with its sprawling hallways and majestic portraits lining the walls. You were introduced to Aegon’s mother, Alicent, who pecked both of your cheeks rather formally. You already knew Aemond from several nights out, and Daeron and Helaena seemed intrigued by the idea of Aegon’s infamous friend joining them for the summer.

But it was Gwayne Hightower, Alicent's brother, Aegon’s uncle, who caught your attention more than anyone else. He stood slightly behind the crowd in the hallway.

Tall, impeccably dressed, with an air of authority that made everyone around him stand a little straighter, Gwayne was dashingly handsome in a classic sort of way. His eyes seemed to appraise you with a besmused curiosity, and you felt slightly tingly under his heavy gaze.

“Ah, so you’re the famous companion we’ve heard so much about,” he said, his voice smooth and rich, like a well-aged whiskey. You crumbled inside a bit. Older men were your weakness.

You flashed a winning smile, suddenly aware of the heat creeping up your neck. “And you must be the uncle Aegon's been warning me about.”

His lips twitched with a smirk, his gaze never wavering. “I assure you, the stories are greatly exaggerated.”

The days at Dragonstone slipped by in a haze of sunlit afternoons spent in the pool, endless nights drinking the finest of wines and sampling Aemond's cigar collection. Aegon was right—his family was incredible, and it wasn’t long before you felt like you belonged. Gwayne, however, remained a mystery to you. He was always polite, always courteous, but there was an edge to his interactions with you that you couldn't quite place.

Your mind often wandered to him, especially during those long, lazy evenings where you’d find him reclining in a leather armchair in the manor’s library, a book in one hand, a glass of some expensive amber liquid in the other. He seemed amused by your antics with Aegon, his eyes glinting with a knowing that left you rather flustered.

One particularly sultry evening, Aegon suggested a trip to Dragonstone nightclub, a renowned hotspot in the manor's adjacent town.

“You up for it?” Aegon asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You grinned. “Always.”

Sneaking out of the manor was no small feat, but you and Aegon were experts at slipping past watchful eyes. The club was everything you expected and more—loud music, pulsating lights, and a throng of people moving in rhythm to the DJ’s beats. You lost yourselves to the night, wrapped up in the freedom that only a place like this could offer. You kept it light on the drinking but indulged in wandering the streets at night, arm in arm with Aegon, cigarette dangling from your lips.

But as the hours passed and Aegon started yawning, then you both knew it was time to head back. Aegon, ever the responsible one when it came to these outings, guided you back to the manor with a practised stealth.

You giggled softly as you crept through the darkened halls, your heart racing not from fear of getting caught but from the thrill of it all. Yet, as you turned a corner, you stopped short. Standing at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, and gaze piercing, was Gwayne.

Next to him stood Alicent, looking less than amused. Her eyes softened when they landed on Aegon, a hint of disappointment mingling with fondness.

“Aegon,” she sighed, “we’ve talked about this.”

Aegon rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, mummy.” He glanced at you with a helpless smile. You smiled reassuringly back.

With a firm hand, she steered him away, leaving you alone with Gwayne. You stood there, feeling like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

Gwayne watched you, his expression unreadable, though there was a gleam in his eyes that spoke volumes. He moved forward slowly, shoes clicking on the floor. You felt your heart rate speed up a tad.

“Looks like you’re not as elusive as you thought,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

You shrugged, trying to muster up some semblance of nonchalance. “Guess we got a bit carried away.”

He stepped closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. There was something different about him now, something that promised a departure from the composed exterior he usually presented.

“Carried away indeed,” he mused, his gaze fixed intently on you. His voice was so deep and firm that you felt yourself shiver with need. “And just what... do you suppose we do about that?"

You swallowed, the playful bravado you had so easily maintained with Aegon slipping away in the face of Gwayne’s intensity. The air between you crackled with an unspoken tension, a magnetic pull that left you breathless.

“I suppose,” you started, your voice a touch unsteady, “a punishment is in order?”

A slow, delighted smile spread across his face, one that promised danger. He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’d say that’s fair.”

Without another word, he grasped your hand hard, and he led you through the dimly lit halls to his study, a room you had only glimpsed from afar. The door clicked shut behind you, the sound echoing like a heartbeat in the silence.

He moved closer, the rich scent of his cologne mingling with the aged aroma of whiskey, a heady combination that made you feel lightheaded.

“You’re quite the little rebel, aren’t you?” he remarked, hands reaching up to rest on your shoulders.

You met his gaze, a challenge sparking within you. “Only when I have a reason to be.”

He chuckled, a low, indulgent sound that reverberated through you. “And tonight? Was it worth it?”

Every part of you screamed yes, your pussy thrumming with want and your body aching to be touched. You nodded, unable to trust your voice, knowing full well that he could read you like a book.

Gwayne moved fluidly, almost predatory, closing the distance between you with deliberate intent, lips finding yours swiftly. Your knees weakened at his domineering kiss. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, tracing a path down to your jaw.

“You’ve been quite the distraction since you arrived,” he confessed, his voice a low rumble that rasied goosebumps across your skin.

His touch was electrifying. You leaned into it, admitting silently that you felt the same pull, the same allure that had drawn you to him from the start.

“Distraction?” you managed, the word a whisper in the charged air.

“Indeed,” he replied, his thumb brushing lightly across your bottom lip. “One I find myself increasingly unwilling to ignore.”

He kissed you again then, a sudden, searing press of lips that left you gasping and wanting more. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as you responded with equal fervour, the world around you fading as the kiss deepened, igniting a fire within that had been smouldering since your first encounter. You moaned helplessly into his hot mouth, and he laughed.

His lips trailed a path down your neck, each kiss a brand that marked you as his. You arched against him, a soft moan escaping your lips as he nipped at the sensitive skin, his hands exploring with a confidence that left you breathless. He bit down onto your tender skin and you felt tears welling at your desperation.

"Please!" You gasped. "Touch me!" He clicked his tongue.

"Patience, girl. You've been so naughty, do you think you deserve my cock?" His words sent your cheeks flaming. He was obviously amused at your wordless arousal. He gripped you tight and walked you over to his armchair. He sat down , leaving you to stand in between his legs, shaking slightly. He rubbed your thighs, as if you calm you

"Now, my girl," he said softly but firmly. "You said you needed a punishment. Lie down across my legs with that delicious ass in the air." Your eyes widened, and you followed his command without question.

He lifted up your skirt and pulled down your panties, making a noise of approval as you mewled for attention. Hands kneaded your ass, and you could feel the hardness of his cock press into your stomach.

Before you could open your mouth, he spanked you hard, making you lurch slightly and cry out. His hands smoothed over the reddened skin.

"Naughty girl. Do you know how much I've had to restrain myself? Seeing you prance around these halls with those gorgeous tits and your short skirts? How many times I've imagined how that pretty face would look as I made you cum?" He rumbled, striking your ass again. You could feel the sharp tingle of a bruise and the wetness between your thighs.

"Gwayne!" You cried out, hands gripping the armchair. "Please, please, I'm sorry for being a bad girl. I'll be good for you, I promise!"

Gwayne tutted in agreement, sliding a finger through your soaked pussy lips. You kneened at the touch, begging for more.

"Oh you little thing," he sighed heavily with lust. "I'll make you all mine, my good girl."

He lifted you up, helping you walk with wobbly legs over to his desk. You gave no resistance as he bent you over, shucking your top off and unzipping his trousers. He leant down, pressing himself against your back. You felt his hot, lengthy cock press between your asscheeks.

He grasped your jaw, turning your head to kiss you aggressively. You moaned, grinding your ass back to him.

"So eager, such a good girl." He gasped out, nudging his cock into your soaked pussy. A hand reached down to circle your clit as he thrusted into you. Both of you moaned at how good it felt. Gwayne seemed struck by how tight your pussy squeezed his cock, so warm and wet. You felt fuller than ever, feeling his heavy balls slap against your pussy as he fucked you.

Gwayne’s other hand was pressed against the small of your back, watching how your ass shook as he fucked you hard and fast. He reached up, twisting your hair in his fist and pulling, not enough to hurt but enough to make your pussy blaze. You arched your back, mouth open in a silent moan, feeling his cock rut against your sweet insides. His breath was hot and heavy on your neck. Gwayne bit onto your neck, your hands scratching the oak of the desk as you felt your orgasm rise up in your battered pussy.

"Cum for me, my good girl," he rasped. "Cum for me and I'll give you a reward. I'll fill up that little pussy the way you want, little slut." You mewled, his finger insistent on your clit. Without warning, Gwayne ripped an orgasm from you, making your pussy squeeze him in an anaconda like grip as he gasped. He moaned loudly, thrusting in fully to cum, filling up your pussy with white hot cum. He collapsed on top of you, panting, as your head swam with pleasure.

Gwayne managed to right himself up, pulling you into his arms. He held you for a very long time, kissing you gently and softly praising you.

Gwayne watched you, his gaze soft yet intense, as if memorising every detail. His fingers brushed idly against your cheek.

“Well,” he murmured, a teasing smile playing on his lips, “consider your punishment complete.”

You laughed softly. “If that’s what punishment feels like, I might have to misbehave more often.”

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

AN: yummy yummy gwayne hightower, check out my masterlist for stuff like this! send in any feedback or request as always lovies

#modern house of the dragon #modern gwayne hightower x reader #modern gwayne hightower #gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower #modern gwayne hightower x reader smut #gwayne hightower smut #gwayne hightower x reader smut

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chimivx · 3 months ago

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home;run -> fem!reader x mlb!mingyu, mlb!vernon, mlb!dk

College didn't work out, so you're stuck with the next best thing. Living with your superstar brother, traveling with his championship winning team, haunted by your past and heavily influenced by your present.

wc; {part four} 5.9k warnings; 18+, sexual content, alcohol consumption/abuse, bad influences around her, manipulation, her name gets taken advantage of in public media, if i missed anything please let me know!! notes; peese n lurv. <3

Cheers had an awful remix of a fairly popular song blasting from the speakers invisible in the room. Four walls, dark grey walls, confined you, Mingyu, his two teammates and their wives along with fifty other people within them.

Arriving here shortly after you found your seat at the dinner table again with tears brimming your eyes, you accepted Mingyu’s hand over your knee and begged him to get you out of the hotbox and into a car, into the bar, and he did. Waltzing inside with his hand around the back of your neck and his friends behind you, the bartenders cheered at your appearance and the first round was on the house.

Shot after shot, glass after glass, you danced with the five of them first, keeping up with the terrible beat the bar thought was good enough to play. The crowd on the dance floor and all within Cheers differed from the one in the restaurant, most bar crowds did. People were calmer, chiller, they greeted you and your group like you were old friends, not internet glorified household names. Drinks were bought for you, handed to you from strangers with gleaming smiles, handed to Mingyu and Hoshi and Minghao though they wouldn’t sip them but slide them into their girls hands, your hands.

Mingyu kept a hand around your waist, pressing you to his front while your bodies moved to the music, getting lost in the occasional kiss that tasted sticky sweet after the rounds of pink starburst shots. Whispering in your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin, he talked you up, wound you up, persuaded your hips to move in a way that drew more attention than you were looking for. Not a thing bothered you, the room was wavey, people took pictures of you, with you, Daya ogled your boyfriend over her husbands shoulder, but then when they spun he shot you a wink while Mingyu’s face was buried in your neck.

That was weird.

Slinging an arm around Mingyu’s back you dug your fingers into his curls and lifted his head, a wicked grin on his glistening lips. Poking your tongue out between yours, you close the air between you and inhale all of him, every push of his lips, every lap of his tongue, every groan from his chest. Mingyu was your boyfriend, you were his girlfriend. Daya and Hoshi were married, they had a baby. You were used to people looking at you, people looking at Mingyu, but they were always strangers. Too many times today had Daya shamelessly mentioned your boyfriend or looked at him like he was her prey.

“Take me home,” you said to Mingyu after the slowest pull away from him, your lips parting with resistance. “Can we leave?”

He smirked, his forehead pressed to yours while your bodies rocked. “Little bit longer, baby. You want me already?” You nodded and he pushed out a laugh. “How bad?”

Enough to get him out of this place and away from Daya, to get you away from Hoshi. Did they even know the other was flirting with the two of you behind their backs?

“Bad,” you whispered against his lips and he laughed again. “Please, can we leave?”

His name was said behind you, either Hoshi or Minghao, you couldn’t make out who it was. Mingyu lifted his head, watched as one of his friends spoke without words, then smiled and nodded. Placing his hands to your hips he moved you off of him and gestured toward the bar.

“The girls are buyin’ shots, go with them,” he said. Stumbling backward, you lowered your brows. Mingyu pointed behind you, his smile giving you enough comfort to trust him. “I’ll be right back, go with the girls. I promise, then we’ll leave.”

“Okay,” you whispered, walking backward, watching him take Minghao by the neck of his shirt, all three of them laughing with one another as they weaved through the crowd to the darker side of the bar. Turning once they disappeared behind several heads and bodies, you pushed past people trying to say things to you and followed the glow of the lights from the bar, Halle and Daya leaning over the glass chatting away with the bartender with dark wavy hair touching his shoulders.

“Party girl!” Daya shouted over her shoulder as she glanced your way, her face lighting up but her eyes remaining the same. Dark, sharp, on watch. “C’mere, you want more of that pink shit?” Wedging yourself between the girls, both of them smelling like money, you nodded and sunk into Daya’s hold as she swung her arm around your shoulder. Acrylic coffin shaped fingernails dug into your bare shoulder. “Yeah, you like the pink shit, don’t you?” Looking up at her she had her nose inches from yours.

“Be right back,” the bartender said after Halle confirmed the order with him.

Daya and her almond shaped eyes, a color so deep yet swirling with a lighter shade that added that extra spark, gazed down at you, the woman a few inches taller than you especially in her heels. Her long, slender nose was positioned perfectly in the center of her bronzed face, striking features that complimented and contrasted perfectly with the softness of her wideset, fuller lips.

Oh shit, she was pretty.

“I do like the… the pink shit,” you muttered and she smiled, her teeth a bright white, insanely straight. “Do you like the pink shit?”

She narrowed her eyes and came closer to you. “Depends who’s asking.”

Nerves flooded your veins. “Okay,” you breathed, laughing it off, wiggling around in her hold to glance at Halle who rocked to the beat of the music. “Where’d they go?” Her and her warm eyes looked over to you, her gaze less intense than Daya’s. Halle was pretty too, it was clear why she and Minghao had been together for years. She wore the same unbothered energy her husband did. “The guys?” you asked after she questioned you with a look.

“Oh, someone they know is here,” she said quickly, waving her hand in the direction they walked off in as if to tell you to ignore it. “They were suffocating anyway, we have to be stuck here all month with them, we girls need to stick together.” The bartender came back and slid several shots full of sparkling pink in front of the three of you. “This rounds on me, ladies.”

With Daya’s arm still around you, you looked back at her. “Where’s your kids?” you asked, shifting your gaze between them both as they took one of the shots.

Daya licked her lips and smacked the glass down on the bar. “Who knows.”

“We have nannies,” Halle scoffed, shooting a glare at her friend. “They’re asleep at the hotel, in good hands.”

A smirk pricked your lips. “You have a baby and you don’t care about her?” The way Daya looked at you made you want to laugh aloud, but you kept it within you. Halle’s eyes shot open so wide she had to turn away for a few seconds.

“Yes I do,” Daya said, a little harshly. “Take your shots, princess, I know you can drink more than this.” Giving her a smile that made her hand tighten on your shoulder, you took each shot like it was nothing, three of them right in a row, faster than Halle or Daya. “There we go,” she snickered, waving the bartender down to your end. “More of whatever the fuck this was.”

Blurrier, louder, more exciting. With each round the atmosphere in the bar fueled the energy within you, it pulled you back onto the dance floor with the girls, the three of you holding hands dancing and singing along to the music you once hated but now adored. You invited other girls into your circle, dancing with them while they opened their phone cameras and snapped selfies and videos, talking to you like they knew you, because they did. Boys tried to talk to you too, and you entertained it, but never let get any further than dancing beside you. Your boy was here somewhere, with someone, doing who knows what.

The second your brain remembered him you wanted nothing else. His hands, his lips, his body, his everything.

Whirling around in a circle, searching each corner, each group of people bobbing up and down in the lights, you found him by the hall to the bathrooms lounging in one of the booths with Hoshi and Minghao sitting on the seats in the other. Mingyu had a leg stretched over the cushion and his back pressed to the wall with his head knocked back. The three spoke close together, their heads nodding a bit, their eyes telling stories you weren’t sure you wanted to know about.

The three buttons undone on his shirt called to you. His hair pushed back from his forehead pulled you in. Wandering away from your group on the dance floor you followed the siren call that was simply his energy, his aura, his appearance. He clocked you halfway, a devilish smirk lighting up his lips as he watched you sway.

“Hey baby,” he said once your knees hit the booth cushion. Crawling over his leg and onto his lap, you straddled his waist and moved with him as he placed both feet to the floor and his back to the booth. Sliding your arms around his neck you pressed your chest to his and locked your lips together, not wasting any time and working them over his cheek, across his jaw, and down his neck. “See, she likes me now,” he said to Hoshi and Minghao, the three of them sharing a knowing laugh, one that didn’t bother you in the moment. Hands moving to your waist, Mingyu held you still over his lap, stopping you from grinding on top of him like you were beginning to. “Yeah, we’re out of here soon,” he said to his friends that left for their own wives amidst a conversation you couldn’t keep up with, too drunk on warm, smooth, golden skin to care.

“Mingyu,” you whispered, finding his lips.

“Isla,” he whispered back, big hands smoothing over your exposed thighs, mini skirt riding higher than it should be right now. “Having fun?” He caught your lips in a quick kiss.

“Yes,” you breathed within the shared air.

He half smirked, sliding his hands over the curve of your ass. “You like it here? Seems like you do.”

“I do,” you nodded, “No one’s bothering me now.”

Mingyu curled his brow. “Us? Or, other people?”

“Other people,” you said without a second thought and kissed him. He let it go on for a minute or so, pulling away when your tongue drug along his teeth.

“You don’t like other people talking to you?” he asked, tightening his grip on your hips that longed to move. The music, the intoxication, his body, you wanted something, you wanted him.

“Not while I’m trying to do this.” Wiggling your hips, or trying to, he laughed, then he released his hold and let you have your way with him. Grinding down on his length half hard in his pants, you sighed and caught him in a sloppy kiss. He took his hands to the back of your neck, pressing his thumbs into the sides creating some sort of pressure to make you groan. You weren’t sure how long you spent lost in him, enough to build up pressure within you.

“Let me ask you a question, baby,” he said and you whined.

“No, just kiss me.”

“No, no,” he snickered, yanking you backward, wrapping a hand around the bun in your hair. “Hang on.” Trying to lean forward, tongue lolling out from your lips, he smiled and shook his head. “Tonight at dinner,” he said, pausing, taking a second to study your face. “Maybe it’s my mind playing tricks on me, I’m nervous, even more now that you’re mine…”

Your heart beat steadily between your lungs. “Tell me. What happened?”

Mingyu pulled his lips between his teeth and blinked a few times. Releasing a breath through a laugh, he asked, “What’s the thing with Hansol?” Your stomach did a cartwheel, every shot in your system making itself known. “I just… I wanna make sure you’re okay, you were looking at him, he was looking at you…”

A gulp betrayed you, one Mingyu picked up on. “He was looking at me?”

Maintaining face, Mingyu analyzed yours. “Yeah, he was, he couldn’t stop.” You tried your best to withhold every emotion this made you feel. He was looking at you, too. When? When you weren’t looking at him? Which was when? You barely drank at dinner, you wouldn’t have missed it. “And then, it made me think of what happened at practice today, so…”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” you whispered. Attempting to lean forward, he held you back.

“So you do know him,” he said.

“I- Yeah,” you shrugged, “He went to Nasara at the same time as me.”

He was quiet, then his smile grew. “Of course he did.”

“Leave it alone,” you said, trying to kiss him again.

“No, c’mon,” he laughed, taking his other hand to your waist where it had been, holding you down. “Tell me, baby. What did my baseball player loving girlfriend do with him in college?”

Whining, wriggling in his grasp, you said, “I don’t want to talk about him.” Pausing, you played back his words and pouted. “And I am not a baseball player lover.”

“Oh, baby,” he smirked. “I beg to differ.” All of your defense fell. Dropping your hands into your lap you sat back on his thighs and slouched your shoulders. “You guys were friends?”

“Mingyu, stop,” you whispered without much fight left in you. Even a shake of your head, the pleading of your eyes wouldn’t shut him up. He stared back at you, his eyes taking in every microexpression.

“What,” he began, and his eyes narrowed, like your thoughts were plastered onto your forehead. “Did you guys sleep together or something?” Your throat tightened. Every limb on your body felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds.

“Gyu- We- Just, leave it alone.”

Weak.

His face lit up with something you’ve never seen before. “Ohhoho… Okay, sure.” Wrapping his arms around your back he moved off the cushion of the booth, relishing in how you clung to him for balance before he got you on your feet. His hands held onto you with a power that both excited you and frightened you. You’ve never experienced jealous Mingyu. “We’re out of here.”

It went by in a blur, him moving you from the bar to the hotel and up into his room where the clothes you wore hit the floor in seconds. In the dark his hands were on you, touching you, squeezing you, pleasuring you, making you feel so good, too good, and he still wore all his clothes. Face buried in your chest, lips wrapping around the delicate skin leaving purple marks in their wake while his fingers worked within you, drawing you to the edge too many times and he still wore all his clothes.

You didn’t have any extra breath to give him, to ask him to take them off, you couldn’t say anything but his name, which was what he wanted. His other hand clamped to your jaw, fingers pressing into your cheeks so tight your lips stayed parted for him to kiss, nip at, spit into. He worked you dumb, your world entirely too blurry, too fuzzy to tell him to slow down, but you didn’t want him to.

It was Mingyu. All him. You couldn’t think about anything else.

Just the way he wanted you.

It wasn’t until his head was between your thighs that you could finally utter something other than Mingyu. “Inside, Gyu,” you whispered, fingers clawing at his curls so tight he was groaning against you. “Please, please, need you in me.”

Letting go of your thighs he stood with a smile and took his hands to his belt buckle after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Smiling down at you, eyes heavy and full of lust, he asked, “Condom?”

Unable to move, you blinked up at him and tried to shake your head. “I don’ care.”

“Oh, my pretty girl,” he groaned, shoving his pants to the floor, kicking them away. Grabbing your ankles he pulled you closer and sunk into you, a delicious moan pouring from both of you. “Never let me hit it raw,” he groaned, taking his time with a few strokes. “Who’s fuckin’ you, baby?”

Clawing at the sheets, you writhed beneath him and choked out, “You, Mingyu, you are.” He pushed your knees backward and laid over top of you, pistoling his hips into yours.

“Say it again.”

Lips caressed your cheek, stirring you awake.

Deja vu.

The sun, the curtains, the bedding, the nakedness, the sore body, the hangover.

Except now Mingyu was crouched beside you dressed for training.

“Hi,” he whispered, his cheeks full of joy. Taking a breath, you couldn’t do anything but blink at him. “I got you a coffee already,” he said, resting his chin on the mattress. Taking a hand to your cheek he drug his thumb beneath your bottom lashes. “Come today. I want you in the stands.” A smile found his lips. “Our first season together, I wanna start it right.” He waited for you to answer but recognized he wasn’t going to get one. “Take care of yourself, okay? I’ll see you in a bit, I’ll have a car waiting for you.”

He left so fast you didn’t even hear the door close. You couldn’t put two senses together.

Another day, another hangover.

You felt like dogshit.

Taking your time to sit up, knowing this time you really felt like you could be sick, when you peeled the sheets back and caught a glimpse of your body you groaned and flopped back onto the pillows. He made a mess of you. Hickeys littered your chest, hopefully not your neck, and the insides of your thighs. You’re certain the tiny blue marks in a rounded line on your hips were from his fingers, he had you flipped every which way last night you supposed.

You barely remembered it.

But you remembered Vernon.

The way he looked at you, how he brushed you away, when you told you he loved you.

As in past tense.

It brought you a brand new physical pain you’ve never experienced, one lodged between your lungs, pulling on your heart. A hole punched there, a wound so big you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do about it. You could drink it away, have Mingyu fuck it away, but clearly it’d come right back when neither of those things were happening.

“Did you even read any of the messages I sent you at the end of last year?”

Every single one.

He was the first to message you, the first to call you, to try to get a hold of you while you cried in DK’s backseat. For days he sent little anecdotes of care, asking you if you were alright, hoping and wishing that you were safe, that you weren’t being too hard on yourself. He sent a long text the day after the dinner ITZ and ATZ shared, and he was angry. He found out you were with DK, that you left school, but he wasn’t angry with you. He was angry with Yeji, the president, for keeping your absence a weird secret from everyone, not telling anybody that you were leaving, that you withdrew from school completely.

The messages to follow were of shorter stature, and they came less frequently. Each one, between the lines, you could feel what he was feeling. Sometimes he’d call you, or try to, without it accompanying a message, hoping that maybe you’d pick up if he rang. He constantly wished you well with each text, encouraged you to do better, that he knew you would be okay, that DK would help, that you should do whatever he tells you and follow your big brother's advice.

The last one he ever sent, right around Christmas, a week before the first story of you and Mingyu erupted, he shared some words that would forever strangle you completely. Mentions of you meaning the world to him, or something, and him saying he hopes he’ll see you soon, that you’re his best friend and he has so much to tell you.

It haunts you, that message.

You should’ve answered it. That should’ve been the moment you called him.

But Mingyu had just bought you diamond earrings for Christmas. You opened them Christmas morning with both your families watching, the group of you lounging in the living room of the Kim’s mountain cabin surrounded by mile high trees, snow, and mugs of hot chocolate, the place fit to house several families at once.

You should’ve answered it.

“That’s all you got?!” you shouted, your voice echoing onto the field over Vernons head from where you sat behind home plate. Leaning against the barricade you watched him swing, just missing the ball. Dropping the bat to the dirt he flashed you a look over his shoulder, his smile teasing his lips, and started to unstrap his gloves. His coach gathered the things on the mound and began straightening up the field.

“I told you to heckle, not to be mean,” he breathed, making a face.

You pouted and he laughed. “Did I hurt your feelings, Nonie?”

“Ew,” he spat. “Don’t call me that. My little cousins call me that.” Lifting his hands over his head he stretched and groaned, leaning side to side.

“Fine,” you sighed. His eyes shut, his brows flatlining above them. Leaving your seat you wandered through the stands and hopped into the dugout, taking yourself out onto the field to meet him where he stood. “Where’s it hurt?”

Vernon brought his arms to his side slowly, looking at you like he was trying to keep his discomfort hidden. “Everywhere,” he whispered, and you let out a laugh together. Reaching for his arms you unstrapped everything else he had on him, and he watched, quietly.

“Come on,” you said, shoving his gear into your arms. Dropping to the ground you picked up his bat and nodded your head. “Where do these go?” Massaging his own elbows he took in the sight of you carrying all of his things and took a deep breath.

“Uh,” he stammered, “Locker room. My bags are in there.”

“Okay, let’s go,” you said, and started for the dugout and the stairs that awaited you there.

“Hansol,” his coach called out, stopping you both. The man eyed you, then Vernon. “Good work today, I’ll see you here same time tomorrow.”

Vernon nodded once. “Same time tomorrow.” When he turned to you he furrowed his brows and held up a finger, stopping your thoughts that longed to come out of your mouth. “You leave him alone,” he said, passing by you.

“You need a break,” you said, following him down into the dugout and through the door into the locker room. Showers lined one wall, double stacked lockers lined the other. It was a smaller space, definitely smaller than the locker rooms at Lions Stadium in Iloa, but it was good enough for Vernon and his team.

He took to his locker and pulled it open, waving you to his side. “I don’t,” he said with a smile, taking some of his things from your arms. “I’m fine.” Gloves, gear, straps, buckles, it all went into his locker. The only thing left in your hands was his bat, a sleek black with a silver V etched into the top in a stunning font.

“You just told me everything hurts,” you said, stepping closer to him, leaning against the cool metal of the Nasara blue lockers. He copied you, thinning his lips, facing you. A few inches lived between the two of you. “You wanted me to break your hand-”

“It was a joke, Iya, I just-”

You closed the space, your middle touching his, the tips of your toes meeting. “I don’t find it very funny.” He dropped his gaze down, looking between you. “What are they working you like this for? Where’s your team? Why are you alone?”

Vernon nibbled his bottom lip and hit you with a subtle shrug before he met your eyes. “I dunno, I was… I was hoping it was, yanno, good things, but Coach has me doing the same stuff over and over. He won’t even tell me why we’re doing what we’re doing, I think I’m,” his voice trailed off as his eyebrows scrunched together, “Think I’m not doing as well as I thought I was.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, reaching for one of his hands, toying with the roughness of his fingers, his palm. He looked down at it and tried to smile. “He just told you you did great.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “To keep me coming back.” When he met your eyes, his gaze shattered your heart. “This is the part where guys start to give up. I’m a senior, well over the age a lot of guys in the MLB were when they were drafted and signed, if it doesn’t happen soon, I…”

“It will,” you whispered. Letting go of his hand you drug your fingers up his arm and gently dug your fingers into his muscle. His eyes fluttered shut with the quietest groan. The muscle was hard, full of knots, you could only imagine what the rest of him felt like. “Come here,” you whispered, moving him to the wide bench along the length of the lockers. “Sit down.” Placing him on the edge, you straddled the bench behind him, your thighs framing his hips. “You can keep talking to me, just let me do this.”

“Do wha- Oh my god,” he groaned the second your thumbs dug into his shoulders. A breathless laugh tumbled from your lips. “I don’t think I- Oh, god.” His head tipped backward. “Is this what they teach you in- in class?”

Popping your brows, working your fingers harder, deeper into the tissue, you said, “Kinda. On days when I can pay attention.” He groaned, lips shut, the sound emitting deep from his chest. Sucking in a deep breath, ignoring the way every groan made your heart feel, you took your hands down his knotty back and worked them there over his sleeveless shirt. “Did you know, these muscles back here, if you don’t take care of them, they could cost you your career?”

Vernon took a breath between grunts and shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “That’s your job, the therapist tells me what to- fuck, tells me what to work on- H’mygod.”

Leaning forward, pressing your chest to his back, you whispered in his ear and a shiver ran down his spine, one you could feel in the tips of your fingers. “That feel good?”

“Jesus,” he mumbled. “Don’t say that right now.”

You smiled. “Why not?”

“Because,” he pushed from his lips fast. “Just keep… Keep going.”

“But, does it-”

“Yes, Iya,” he hissed. “It feels good.”

You wished you were in front of him, in both places at once, you wanted to see his face, wanted to see what he looked like while he groaned and melted into your touch. Taking your hands all over his back, taking your time in places tighter than others, his exhausted self didn’t hold back, he told you what was good, what needed more, where he needed you, where he wanted you. Your heart pounded in your chest, you prayed he couldn’t feel it with how he leaned against you now, your fingers rubbing into his neck, toward his jaw. He rested his head on your shoulder, his eyes closed, his breath hitching in his chest with every sound that came out of him.

“Noisy boy,” you whispered, slowing your fingers that were starting to get achey. Keeping them on his shoulders, he blinked open his eyes and turned his head to look at you, his entire being relaxed, sleepy. Your thighs hugged his body, his waist, he fit perfectly between your legs.

“You’re good at that, I can’t help it,” he whispered. He must’ve realized how he was sitting, splayed back on you like you held onto his consciousness through your ministrations of his body, because he tried to sit up, his body moving slow, heavy.

You kept him in place, holding him back, keeping him pressed to you. Giving you a look, his brows showing the slightest bit of pure curiosity, you took a breath and slid your hands down his chest keeping your eyes locked on his. Placing them right over his heart, you paused, and waited.

Then you felt it.

His heart beat in time with yours, racing faster than it should be for what you were just doing to him. Shifting, trying to move, Vernon hummed his disapproval of what you were feeling. The smallest smile graced your lips.

“No,” he whispered, smiling with you. “You started it, I felt yours first.”

Flickering your eyes to his parted lips, you held your breath and looked back at his hooded gaze. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” he whispered.

Taking a hand to his curls, leaving the other over his heart, you dipped your chin down and altered the relationship you shared with him forever. His lips, soft, a little shy, met yours and he sucked in a breath, his heart beating quicker, heavier. A single breath between parted lips was like a switch flipped, in seconds his energy came back and he was pulling you off the bench and onto his lap, helping you straddle his waist comfortably on the wood beneath him.

With your hands on his jaw you kept his head tipped upward, not wanting to waste a second without his lips on yours. Your body melted into his with his arms around your back, his fingertips pressing you closer, holding you tight, yet ever so gently. The way you responded to one another, your bodies, your breath, it was unlike anything you’ve ever shared with anyone else. In just a few heated kisses a warmth filled your being, tangled with your veins, your heart, pooling in your center telling you that this was it.

It was Vernon. This was it, everything you’d ever need.

As much as it terrified you, you'd never felt more sure about anything, god, you felt like you could cry, like so much was pent up within you, so many things you’ve teased him with, teased each other with, but deep down knew was horrifically true.

Without thinking you rolled your hips against him and felt him smile into your kiss. Hands with a mind of their own, they scrambled for the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head, two blushing smiles meeting in the middle all over again once it hit the floor. Kissing you, long and slow, his hands took their time dropping the hoodie from your shoulders, the grey cotton meeting his shirt where it was dropped. Lips ghosting each other, he brushed his nose over yours, shivering as your fingers danced down his bare chest and tugged at the strap of the shorts he wore that made it so painfully obvious what he wanted.

“What are you doing?” he asked in a whisper, his smile never seeming to leave his face.

Rolling your hips a bit, you smirked as a breath corrupted his lungs. “Finishing what you started,” you whispered, and kissed the tip of his nose. “Can I take these off?”

Vernon breathed through a laugh. “Yeah, you’ve seen it before.”

“Right,” you giggled and tugged at the elastic. “Can I taste it?”

His hips pushed up beneath you as another breath shot through him. “You, fu- Iya, hang on,” he rambled on as you giggled and worked him out of his shorts. “If you- If you do, I won’t be able to- fuck.” Straddling his waist again you wrapped a hand around the bottom of his length, smiling as you gave him a good squeeze.

Leaning into him you caught his lips in a kiss. “You grower,” you teased, and he tried to laugh with you. “Holy shit, V. Can I…”

Steadying his breath, or trying to, he narrowed his eyes. “Can you, what?” he asked, tilting his chin just to brush his lips over yours, not even to kiss you. “What do you want?”

“You.”

“You have me.”

Kissing him, a soft whine was muffled by his lips, his tongue slipping between your lips this time. Moving off of him, your lips the last thing to leave him, he watched you where he sat, chest rising with each breath he took. Fingers finding the zipper of your mini skirt, Vernon reached forward and shook his head, wrapping his arms around your waist, slotting you between his legs. Looking up at you, he took you out of your skirt, then pushed up the hem of your tank, pressing kisses to the skin above the thin stretch of lace waiting for him beneath the denim.

“That skirt makes me crazy by the way,” he whispered, both of you laughing. Pressing his nose to your skin, his fingers curled over the lace and pushed it down your thighs, his lips worshiping this unexplored part of your body. Big brown eyes gazed up at you and you couldn’t take anymore. With a smile you leapt on top of him, tangling your fingers in his hair, engulfing his lips with yours. Reaching between your bodies you wrapped a hand around him and parted from him to rise to your knees, but his hands latched onto your shoulders, both worry and disappointment in his eyes. “Iya, Iya, wait,” he whispered, mentally kicking himself. “Are we not gonna… Do you want me to… I don’t- I don’t have anything here, or on me.”

You admired his worry, you smiled at him, reassuring him with a kiss. “I’ve seen you make double plays,” you whispered and his eyes softened. “I trust your sense of timing.” Before he could say anything else, protest about your safety like you knew he would want to, like you’ve been doing to him for weeks, the hypocrite, you kissed him, and you sunk down on him, moaning into his mouth at the stretch and how his hands gripping onto your hips in a hurry, his fingers digging into your skin.

Neither of you moved, for several seconds, maybe minutes, you held onto one another, pressed chest to chest, sharing nothing but the laziest kisses and labored breaths. He was the first to move, flipping you over to your back, the wood cold against your skin making you gasp.

“No, come on,” you whispered, half a laugh coming out with it. “Let me take care of you.”

Vernon smiled, pressing his lips to your cheek and down your jaw. With the slowest push of his hips your jaw fell open and he caught your parted lips in a kiss. “You already did that,” he whispered, lowering himself on top of you, “My turn.”

home;run masterlist | talk to me | ao3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

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lesbianslvt666 · 2 years ago

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Sea Monster and Tressures

captain! Ellie x pirate! Reader

In which instead of finding your brother in a pirate crew, you end up fighting the Ellie Williams, the infamous pirate. however, fighting would not be the end goal, for Ellie longs for something deep, every time she sees you.

Content warning: swearing, smoking, mentions of drugs and alcohol, burglary, fights, swords, denigration, abandonment issues, a bit of gore, you aren't the good guy, neither is Ellie lol. Morally grey characters tbh.

The village you were in wasn’t much than a shaggy mess, with infants running wild alongside goats and small dogs, the people, mean eyed and guarded up. The rumours of pirates and thieves expanded alongside the shores hamlets, melting the people together in fear of being disposed of the little to no belongings they had. So you could imagine how they must feel, when a new woman in town appear out of nowhere, no men beside her, only one horse and a brass hip flask with leather cover. Your dishevel appearance did not much to help you. Your Whild locks leaps with every step and jump that Callous, your beautiful brown horse gives. You found him after a village was sweep by burglars, however, you knew she had something to do with it.

You have been following her every step, from coast to coast, in land or sea. she feels like a smoked dream, a foggy memory of the fantasy your soul desired. At first it felt like admiration, the town you were born at knew her pretty well, so much so that your older brother got to talk to her, agreed upon being part of her navigation. He was your best friend, so, naturally, you thought, he would not leave you behind in the filth, down with the woman who took care of every parentless child. You were wrong…

For the longest time you thought he had abandon you, how dare him not take you alongside his adventure, an aspiration you so much longed for ever since a toddler. And then it got to you, the need of revenge, how fucking dare him leaving you behind, knowing fully well how capable you are, how much you hated were you lived, and how much you loved the sea. Finding him at first wasn’t easy. so you thought, he, a nobody, the leads came to abrupt ends very fast. So now, the target was her, however, you came to realize that maybe, she was always who you were hoping to find.

You knew as much of her as the stories could tell, have never even seen her face before, it was told that she was a natural beauty, auburn hair and freckles, green unwelcoming eyes that didn’t forget nor forgive. The more you heard about her, the more you wanted to be likewise, or alongside…

She wasn’t even much older than you, if the rumours were true, she could only be around three or so years older than you, then… how come a 23 year old achieve as much as she had…

Walking along the narrow streets with callous wasn’t the easiest task, the people selling stuff outside their doors, making the way even thinner, residing like the forgotten path of a river, the chatter could be hear from everywhere, the screams of the kids and the barks of the dogs, the smell of the sea intensified, you knew what was coming, you could feel it in your skin as the air got chiller, it was the first time in all your journey were you had arrive on time.

Agitating the reels of Callous, signalled him to move faster, this time not caring on portraying a low profile. the dangles in your hair clacking alongside with the jewellery that you had taken from your past visits, as to not forget, how many places you’ve been.

Callous was sprinting, moving alongside the shore the sand heavy behind you, leaving clouds large enough to find your whereabouts from miles away, you saw it. The sea monster, the grandiose nature couldn’t compare to anything you’ve seen before, the sea fog opened itself for it, in fear it might have repercussions itself. The plan? It was easy, find your brother, fight with him, and when he feels his defeat, you forgive his life, in exchange of course, to convince the E llie Williams, to join her crew…

Honestly, this is only like a synopsis, cause I would like to know if you want to read the full thing…

Interactions are incredibly appreciated

#ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #the last of us #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams x female reader #lesbian #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst #ellie the last of us #pirate! au #pirate girl #fantasy #pirate ellie #pirate reader #sapphism #sapphic

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authorsofghosts · 2 days ago

Text

Club in Love | Morph x Reader

Summery: Morph decides to take you out on Valentine's Day since you're both dateless. Of course, they think the best place to go on a date for two mutants like yourselves is the club.

Themes: Fluff -> Angst -> Fluff, Confessions, Mutual Crush, Open Ending, Clubbing, Drinking, (Slight) Drug Mention, Morph does Morph things, Morph doesn't use their Birth Name, Reader is a mutant/X-Man (no powers written), Wolverine cameo.

Word Count: 1.5k (not proofread)

"Come on, we're not gonna make it for the 'Couples Get in Free' hour if you have to spend thirty minutes just picking an outfit." Morph laughs, creeping ever so slightly closer.

"We're not a couple, Morph." You laugh out softly, shaking your head as you took out some shirts to look at them.

"Not yet," They smirk, getting closer and poking your cheek. As you go to protest, they grin wider. "I'm kidding, come on. It was funny."

"No, it wasn't." You mumble, remembering the fact that the only reason you agreed to do this was both of you were painfully single. Morph's smile drops as they see you lost in thought, quickly trying to figure out how to cheer you up.

"Hey, just think of it as a..." They start, pausing to tap their chin in thought, trying to find the right words. "A special Co-Ops mission. I mean, the best mutant on the team for having to undercover is moi, huh?"

Morph spins, with their hands in the air, switching between different forms and disguises, finally resting on their 'Public Face'.

"Come on, it can't be that hard to pick an outfit."

"Says the person who can shapeshift into any outfit they want." You grumble, shoving them away.

They laugh softly, smiling as they lean against the wall. Finally picking an outfit, you shoo Morph away to get dressed. As you walk out of your room, you hear a low whistle. "Morph-"

"Non, non, cher." You hear and see Gambit, but know better. "You look magnifique, chouchou."

"Morph."

"Fiiine." They laugh, transforming back into themselves. "You're not fun."

"I am, but not when it comes to you trying to seduce me or whatever with our friend's faces." You shake your head, grabbing your stuff and making your way to the stairs. "Come on, 'partner'."

"Is that a cowboy joke or a date joke?"

"If I said date joke you'd be happy, so it's a cowboy joke."

You stomp down the stairs of the mansion, rolling your eyes as you laugh with Morph. Before you can make it to the door, Logan steps out in front of you both "W'ere the hell do you two think yer goin'?"

"Relax, we're going to the club. You coming with?" Morph smiles. "Or are you gonna sulk and whimper like last year." They snicker.

"Morph, be nice-" You say, quickly being cut off by the chuckle of Logan, making you quickly turn your attention back to the gruff man.

"No, they're right. But I ain't going to yer fancy club, Morph. I'd rather stay 'ere tonight. Thanks though."

Morph pats Logan's back, tsking softly, "There isn't anything 'fancy' about it other than the way it overstimulates you with all the flashing, multicolored lights. But I promise it'd be much chiller since, you know, they're trying to draw in couples for their jacked up drink prices tonight."

You watch as they try to convince Logan to come, but there really wasn't much getting through to him. Not today, at least. "Well, you kid's have fun. I'mma get some shut eye." He finally grunted out, walking off.

"Welp, that's our queue, I assume, to get going. You know?" Morph laughed softly, pointing towards the front door.

"Mhm." You prompt, walking forward and paying them no mind. For someone who was just flirting with you, or so you think, they sure did ignore you for about five minutes. So clearly, they can't like you like that for real, right?

You don't see it, but their face drops as you walk out the mansion. "Shit-" Them mutter to themselves. Quickly running up to you, they wrap an arm around you and grin. "Oh, come on, don't get sour before we get Lemon Drops. Or maybe something stronger? Oooo, maybe one of those overpriced Valentine's Day themed drinks."

Morph shifts to their public face, opening the passenger side door and bows slightly. This causes you to chuckle out, shaking your head and flashing a soft smile in their direction. This satisfies them enough to shake off their mini-dread.

As you pull up to the club, Morph looks around at the crowded line outside. "Shit, really? No way there's this many people just cause tonight's so marketable." They chuckle, leaning against you with an arm on your shoulder.

"You'd be surprised how normal, happy people like this holiday." You mumble in a half-sarcastic laugh.

"Normal, happy people?" They repeat, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Non-superheroes fighting off whatever the fuck? People who don't have the stress of protecting the whole world?"

"Oh." They grimace, looking at you softly. "Let's try to not think about that, huh? Come on, I'll buy you whatever drink you want." They smile, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "Come on, just act natural." They mumble, walking closer to the bouncer.

"Yeah, yeah." You shake your head smiling, leaning into their touch. You feel them tense for a slight moment before relaxing. They press a soft kiss to your forehead in sight of the bouncer, then lean over to whisper in your ear.

"Don't be such a grouchy pants. We're supposed to look like a couple."

You blush slightly, looking away as the people in front of you step into the club. Morph grabs your hand and pulls you forward.

You enter the club and are immediately met with red light instead of the normal multicolored flashing. "See, I told Logan it'd be calmer tonight. There's just more people."

"Yeah, Logan doesn't like people neither." You laugh, walking over to the bar with them. "Any drink, huh?"

"Any drink." Morph repeats. "We could share, you know. They got couple's drinks or whatever."

"We're not-" You start, looking at the size of the couple drinks tat two people are sharing at the other end of the bar. "Okay maybe. Those are like... five times the size of my fist."

They chuckle softly, shaking their head. "I'll order us one."

You both sit at the bar, sipping on the drink. It's some kind of strawberry vodka cocktail, and if you were being honest? It was amazing.

You go to sip from your straw and find your face only a few inches away from Morph's. You awkwardly laugh and pull back, but that only makes them smirk wide. "Don't be shy now. I mean, we have to pretend to be dating to not get kicked out. What's a little eye contact gonna do?"

You puff your cheeks out, slightly annoyed by how nonchalant they are about this. Taking up on their challenge, you lean back and take a sip of the drink as they do. That's when it finally hits you.

The alcohol that is.

The soft, red lights in the club feel a lot heavier than before and as you look in Morph's eyes, they almost shimmer. Your cheeks heat up and you can't help but look at them, really look at them.

They usual confident, almost a little bit snarky person is taken aback slightly at the change in your demeanor, letting out a laugh that was easily readable as nervous. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Feeling, uh... Peachy." You say, slurring your words despite how slowly you were speaking.

"Oh, you're a lightweight aren't you. Fuuuck, I'm gonna have to babysit you? No, not happening. We're going home."

"No, what? Come on, what happened to having fun?" You ask, a wide, almost goofy grin on your face. You stand up, taking another quick sip of the large cup before pulling them by the hand. "Let's dance."

"Woah- okay, okay, I'm coming." They laugh, shaking their head but following. Whenever you get on the floor, the song playing is lively, about drugs and sex, like most music. You watch Morph's face distort slightly with worry.

"What's wrong?" You slur out, getting a little bit closer to Morph.

"Well, I usually... I usually dance while, you know Morphing. Shifting to different forms with each flash of the lights, cause it's... " They trail off, the song ending.

"It's cool. You're cool." You say, your eyes flickering around.

"What?"

"Huh?"

"Did you just say I'm cool?" Morph laughs, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Well- I mean, yeah." You say, your cheeks heating up slightly. For what reason, you have no idea. It's not like you....

Shit.

Fuck.

You laugh, shaking your head, "I mean, what's wrong with saying your cool?"

They smile, eyes lighting up as the next song that's playing in the club is a slow, romantic one. Almost... bedroom-y. "You wanted to dance, right?" Morph asks, putting out their hand.

You look down at their hand, even in your drunken state, understanding where this is going. You take it, yelping out and laughing as they pull you closer, wrapping a hand around your waist. "Hey!"

"Then we're dancing." They say just for your ears.

Morph sways you from side to side slowly, in rhythm with the song. You're a little starstruck, flabbergasted even, at the moment. They put their cheek against yours, smirking. "You're blushing."

"N-no." You stammer, shaking your head.

"You're either extremely tipsy, orrrr... did you find something out?"

"Maybe. Both. Probably both." You mumble. Morph laughs softly, pulling you closer.

"That's alright. Was gonna tell you anyways." They say, forehead against yours.

You pull back slightly, "Huh? Tell me what?" You ask, eyes widening. "You like me, too?"

"Too?" They laugh, shaking their head for a moment. "You like me back?"

"Yeah, no, I just realized this, how long have you liked me???"

"Shit-"

#morph #morph x men #morph xmen #morph x reader #x men #x men 97 #x men comics #x men x reader #x reader #xmen #xmen x reader

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edupunkn00b · 2 months ago

Text

Morning Glories and Jade Slippers

Photo of morning glories by Gary Fultz, via Unsplash

Written for @tsspromptmonth's Sleepy Bean Fanfic Cafe for @doteddestroyer. Flower shop AU, Hanahaki's, and mutual pining. Rated: G - WC: 2691 - CW: one swear (and it's not Remus'), Hanahaki's, mutual pining -

Janus loathed mornings. Dawn was overrated, as was that heart-stuttering jolt he got from waking to an alarm. He hated rushing over his first cup of coffee, he despised dressing in the dark. And if Janus were in charge, morning showers would be outlawed.

Even so, even Janus had to admit there were certain benefits to arriving at the shop two hours before his oldest friend and business partner.

The streets downtown were practically empty and blissfully muted in the pre-dawn hours, and he never had to wait for his latte at the coffee house next door—the one blessedly already open each day when he arrived and pushed up the squealing iron gate protecting his and Logan's flower shop.

Getting in two hours early each day also meant he was guaranteed to be alone when, after being in the shop for precisely forty-seven minutes, he would have his morning coughing fit. The timing left him nearly an hour to clean himself up and clear away the indigo-colored morning glories he'd expelled before Logan might spot them and start to ask uncomfortable questions.

His early mornings, though, were not all upside.

Mindful of what it had taken to force his groggy head into this rigid wake schedule, Janus hadn't slept in for over four years. And consistently early mornings meant consistently early nights. Janus wasn't sure which was worse, his little brother's disappointment when he declined yet another movie marathon night. Or when he'd stopped asking altogether.

Most pertinently, though, arriving before Logan every day meant he also bore witness to his arrival each morning. Along with his husband's morning goodbye kiss.

"Say it again, Lo Lo," Remus had snickered, nuzzling against his cheek. From his perch atop the front counter, Remus had wrapped long, lanky arms and legs around Logan, pulling him close. His muscles bunched and stretched under his long-sleeved tee, strategically ripped, it seemed, to let his detailed octopus tattoos peek through. That or to give Logan a chance to trace deft fingers along the bared tanned skin, just as he did now.

"I cannot possibly imagine to what you are referring," Logan demurred, cheeks pink as his eyes darted over his husband's shoulder. Janus looked away before he could catch his eyes.

"Oh, Lo Lo," Remus said, voice lower. But not quite low enough to not be heard across the shop. "You know what I wanna hear."

"I will see you tonight, Meus," Logan murmured, voice rich and warm and rumbly.

Janus didn't look up from the peonies he was arranging for their first pick-up of the morning.

Remus had laughed, energetic bubbles bouncing around the room. "How much of me?" he'd countered.

"All of you," had been Logan's quiet response, his own laughter buzzing just under his words.

That had been last week.

Janus didn't know what spell Remus had cast on his formerly reserved best friend and partner—business partner, Janus' mind firmly clarified. But there were days when just the sound of their voices pulled him out of the rose chiller or out from the receiving room, a sunflower turning her face to the sun.

Grip so strong he feared he might warp the flower bucket before him, Janus gagged and choked. Finally, he coughed up a particularly large blossom. Finally able to suck in a lungful of air, he fell back, panting. Once he'd caught his breath—for now—he sat up, wiping his mouth. Never one to be overly squeamish, Janus peered inside the bucket.

It hadn't been one blossom caught in his throat, but two.

One was a familiar blue morning glory, velvet soft petals wet and wilted. Next to it, with bright green petals edged in blood, sat a Jade Slipper orchid.

"Well, fuck."

The following morning's sleet hid even the barest hint of dawn, leaving Janus fighting to resist his temptation to tick up the thermostat to try and make up for the lost imagined warmth. Instead, after he cleaned up from his coughing fit—taunted this time by nearly as many green orchids as morning glories—he pulled his gloves back on and worked to unload the new glass giftware they'd ordered.

For several weeks, customers had been asking for a greater variety of vases for custom arrangements and, after the third request in as many days, Logan had called Janus over the review his tracking sheet.

The man had a spreadsheet for everything.

Smiling, Janus had leaned over his shoulder for a better look at Logan's projections. His lungs filled with the scent of vanilla and cedar, Logan's cologne just strong enough to beat out the heavy fragrance of the roses Janus had been trimming. He inhaled deeply—and promptly choked.

Slapping a hand over his mouth, Janus fumbled in his pockets for a handkerchief.

"Jay?" Logan leapt to his feet and steadied him with a warm, firm hand on his arm. The unexpected touch burned through the silk of Janus' sleeve. "Do you need some water?" he asked, voice tight with worry.

Finally managing to pull one of his new black handkerchiefs from his vest pocket, Janus covered his face just in time to feel a petal behind his teeth. No. No, please no. Not here. Not now.

Still coughing, he shook his head. Tears pricked his eyes as he struggled to dislodge a bloom. He needed to get out of there. Janus stepped back, but Logan moved with him, one hand now gently gripping his arm while the other rubbed his back. "I—I'm here," he murmured, sounding uncharacteristically unsure even as his hand eased Janus' back spasm brought on by each cough. "It's alright, I—"

"Hello, Flower Boys!" Remus cried, backing through the front door. The aromas of garlic and butter and fresh bread came with him. "Anybody hung—" The bags rustled as they dropped to the floor and Remus was at his other side. "Shit, you okay, Jannie?"

Janus tried to nod but was wracked with another spell. Stars sparkled behind closed eyes and he stumbled. Caught between the two of them, Logan and Remus, they eased him down into Logan's chair. Handkerchief heavy and damp through the thick black cotton, Janus winced and crumpled it before shoving it in his trouser pocket. He found a second just in time before he coughed up one last blossom. Folding that one in his hand, he closed his fist tightly around it. Letting the chair—and Logan and Remus—support him, he fought to catch his breath.

He didn't dare look at what he'd coughed up.

"Thank you," he managed between slowly easing gasps. "I'm fine now," he lied, eyes closed. Up until now, he'd only coughed up actual petals in the morning or evening. But that was a worry for another time. He cracked open his eyes, two sets of concerned eyes looking back at him. Janus pressed on a smile, shakier than he would have liked. "Thank you," he said again, slowly regaining his awareness.

Logan and Remus knelt on either side of him, Logan's hand on his knee. His thigh, really. Janus tried not to think about that. Remus' larger hand covered his where he still gripped the soiled handkerchief. The shop door was still ajar, held open by the large bag from Amante's down the street. That explained the garlic.

"I apologize, I'm delaying your lunch date." With great reluctance, he pulled his hand away from Remus' warm grip and shoved the other handkerchief into his pocket. Remus' hand lingered on his knee before finally dropping to his own side.

"Nah, Jannie, I…" He glanced over at Logan, thick mustache twitching over his lips. "I brought it for both, well, for all of us."

Logan's thumb brushed the crease in his trousers, very, very lightly. Janus was certain he wasn't even aware of it. "You are more than welcome to join us, Jay."

"Yeah, we wanna all eat together," Remus added, a bit of his usual grin returning.

"Only if you would like to. We've got tiramisu for dessert," Logan said quickly, giving his knee a little squeeze before looking down as though he just realized where his hand was. He folded his hands in his own lap.

Janus suppressed a shiver as his legs slowly cooled from the dual loss of contact. Ignoring that, Janus smiled. "You know my weakness," he teased.

The smile that bloomed over Logan's face put every flower in their shop to shame. He nodded to Remus, who stood and closed the door, setting the little 'We'll be back' clock for an hour. Grinning over his shoulder at him, he pushed it to two. "I'll do whatever I need to do to get the two of you to take a decent break."

"Rather hypocritical coming from you, Mister 'I Have a New Idea and I'll Sleep When I'm Dead.'" Arms crossed over this chest, Logan's voice was stern but his smile was not.

"Slander!" Remus laughed. Hefting up the bag, he returned to them and offered a hand to Logan to help him to his feet. "You see what I have to put up with?" he winked at Janus.

To Janus', surprise, Logan laughed and released Remus' hand to offer both to him. Without thinking, Janus wrapped his hands around Logan's and allowed himself to be helped to his feet.

One hand still gripping their lunch, Remus looped his arm around Logan's waist as he grinned back at Janus over the top of Logan's head. Message received, Janus nodded and dropped Logan's hands. Eyes on the floor, Janus smoothed down his vest. "Thank you. I'll set up in the back," he said, retreating to give the couple at least a few moments of privacy before their shared meal.

While mid-day coughing fits remained blessedly rare, Janus' evening spells were growing far, far worse. He now spent hours every night coughing up increasingly large blossoms and sharp, prickly stems. The black handkerchiefs had proved useful for disguising the increasing droplets of blood that accompanied them, and he soon switched out all of his sheets and towels to the same. Exhausted after a particularly bad spell, he collapsed on his bed, right on top of his covers, certain he needed just a moment to collect himself before properly preparing for sleep.

When Janus opened his eyes to his progressive alarm blaring and the buzz of his watch shaking his hand, he was afraid to see how long he'd overslept. The clock told him anyway. If he sped through his routine, he'd get to the shop only forty-five minutes late. Maybe it would still be okay.

That morning's coughing fit would not stop. He'd already coughed up more blossoms than he ever had before, the bright bright blue and green mocking him from the bottom of the bucket. Something large caught just below his vocal cords, his coughs turned silent as he heaved and fought to force it free.

Without the sound of his own coughs ringing in his ears, he clearly heard the sound of the shop's front door, along with Logan and Remus' soft, flirty laughter. "Jay?" Logan called. Two sets of footsteps grew louder on the other side of the backroom door as the edges of Janus' vision grew dark. He gasped for air, the tiniest trickle of oxygen making it past the obstruction.

The room tilted sideways just as the backroom door flung open.

"Jay!"

Janus woke up on the floor. Not directly on the cold floor. No, beneath him were several coats, his own as well as Logan's and even Remus' big wool great coat. He was sitting mostly upright, head and back supported. Something firm, something warm. Vanilla and cedarwood…

He looked up and into Logan's eyes. "Lo?" he said, voice raspy. "I…" He tried and failed to sit up.

Eyes sad, Logan curled his arm a little tighter, helping his sit up. He raised a small cup of water to his lips and quietly watched him drink. Janus finished and licked his lips. "Ready for more?" he asked.

Janus nodded and had half the next before shaking his head. Logan slowly lowered the cup but kept it close. The silence grew heavy between them. "Who are they for?" Logan finally murmured, jerking his chin toward the bucket.

He eyed the cup and Logan raised it up. Janus took a slow sip, then whispered into the cup. "They're for you, Lo." He pretended not to notice Logan's little gasp. "And your husband."

The hand holding the cup shook and Janus squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for his gentle rejection, waiting for his horror. Waiting for anything. One does not simply confess to one's married friends without… consequences. Logan tapped the cup to his lips again and, obediently, Janus sipped at it.

"How long, Jay?" he whispered.

Janus drank more of the water, delaying a response. He would run out soon.

He tried to sit up, but gravity—and the magnetic pull of Logan's warmth—was too much to fight and he lay back with a sigh. "Your morning glories started just before we opened the shop. The orchids…" He closed his eyes, face burning with shame. "Since last winter?"

"They're different for different people?" Remus sudden voice from the doorway sounded surprised. "Does that mean…"

Feigning confidence, Janus looked back at him. Dressed in a flower apron and holding a pair of stem shears, Remus' cheeks were red, eyes wide. Janus nodded and swallowed hard, triggering another little spell. Both Remus and Logan were at his sides. Remus kept the bucket and a soft cloth close, rubbing Janus' back as he hacked up more petals. And Logan held his hand.

Finally the coughing subsided. Sandwiched between them, Janus let them hold his weight. Just this once.

Remus broke the silence. "So you've been in love with Logan this whole time," he said more than asked. "And now me, too?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered, eyes still closed.

"Oh, Jay," Logan sighed. "The only thing you should be sorry for is not telling us sooner. I can't believe this whole time, you—"

"I—" Janus' voice died before he could explain more. He hadn't even considered how uncomfortable they would feel finding out he'd been secretly harboring feelings. He'd thought he'd been sparing them. So focused on his own longing, it never even occurred to him they would feel like he'd been lying. "I… I am," he said, sitting up on his own. "I'm sorry. I'll… I'll go," he muttered and pushed himself up to his feet. The room spun around him but before he could fall, Logan and Remus were up, too, holding on to him.

"You dumbass," Remus said, pulling him close. "We love you, too." Logan moved in, one arm curled around his husband, the other around him. Blood roared in Janus' ears. He didn't just say that, did he?

"While that is not how I describe your mental acuity," Logan murmured and brushed a soft kiss against his temple. "Remus is correct. We both have strong and romantic feelings for you. Of course we love you, too, Jay."

"Really?" Janus studied Logan's eyes and then Remus'. They were serious. "How… How did I not…"

"How did we not?" Logan asked, filling in the rest of his question for him. "Come," he murmured as Remus dabbed at his face with a warm, wet cloth. "The shop is closed for the night. I think we have a lot to talk about. Would that be acceptable to you?" he asked, addressing both him and his husband.

"Hell yes!" Remus grinned back both of them. At Janus' little nod, they helped him to his feet and into his coat. Logan remained at his side, one arm curled around his back as he walked on unsteady feet. Remus moved ahead, holding doors and shutting off the shop's lights.

Janus watched as Remus pulled down the gate then switched positions, supporting him as Logan crouched down turned the gate locks. He stood and offered Janus his hand.

Hand in hand in hand, they walked back to Logan and Remus' car and on toward whatever came next.

#sanders sides #ts janus #ts logan #ts remus #hanahaki #flower shop #loceit #pining loceit #intrulogical #married intrulogical #and a healthy dash of mutual pining #Janus is just too busy hacking up flowers to notice #single POV #happy ending

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