#but how much are they gonna cut out of it

[archangeldyke-all]

PARAMEDIC SEV MEETING HER WIFE AND SAVIN MG HERRRRRRRREEEEEE

lush i love ur ideas omg

men and minors dni

you never should've agreed to babysit for silco and vander.

so what if it's their anniversary and they haven't had a dinner date all year. it's their own damn fault for deciding to have four fucking kids. you don't know what you were thinking agreeing to this-- but you're certainly paying the consequences now.

claggor hasn't been too bad-- doing his homework at the counter as you cooked dinner, helping you figure out where they store their spices and pots.

mylo was alright in the beginning, but as the night grew on and he started getting tired, he started getting grumpy and irritable.

jinx is always up to trouble-- she's been trying to trip you up all night, cackling each time you barely muffle a curse as you stumble.

and now, you've caught vi sneaking a girl into her room.

"violet, how do you even have a girlfriend, you're ten!" you shout.

"i'm eleven, and cait's not my girlfriend. she's just my bestie. and we practice kissing with each other sometimes." vi says with a shrug.

"what made you think you could have her over here tonight?!" you ask.

vi shrugs. "she comes over every wednesday, dads just haven't caught her yet."

you groan.

"i-i can leave." the posh girl in front of you offers. you heave a sigh.

"no, stay, i can't let you walk home in the dark. i'll drive you home when the old men get back, alright?"

vi grins and slams the door in your face.

you turn around just in time to dodge a shoe flying down the hall. behind you, it smacks mylo in the back of the head.

"what the fuck!" the boy shouts, turning around with a glare. jinx giggles from the other end of the hall. you want to cry.

"please just go to your rooms." you whine.

mylo just growls, grabbing the nearest small object and flinging it back at jinx.

only-- he's grabbed a letter opener, sitting by a pile of mail.

you gasp as the sharp object goes whizzing by your face-- headed straight to jinx's chest.

and before you know what's happening-- you're reaching out and snatching the object out of the air.

for a second, it's silent-- mylo and jinx both shocked by your quick thinking and the dangerous situation you all narrowly avoided. then, jinx shrieks.

"you just tried to kill me!"

"i thought it was just a pen!" mylo defends. "you threw dad's shoe at my head!"

"it was his house slipper! it barely hurt."

"oh, i'm gonna fuckin' kill y-- you're bleeding." mylo says.

jinx blinks, the argument forgotten as she looks over at you.

it takes you a few moments to realize that the kids are talking to you. you blink down at your hand, gasping when you find it covered in blood, trickling steadily onto the floor.

"oh. shit." you whisper. the pain hits you all at once and you take a sharp breath. "oh shit." you whine.

"w-what do we do?" jinx asks. you walk to the kitchen, mylo and jinx following close behind you, both of them nervous and worried about you.

"gotta run it under some water and see how deep the cut is." you whisper, placing your hand under the running tap.

you and the kids wait anxiously for the water to run clear, but it stays consistently red.

mylo cringes. "i think you cut something important." he mutters.

you gulp, the shock and adrenaline of the injury wearing off, leaving you shaky and very aware of how much blood you're losing.

"should i call dad?" jinx asks softly.

there's a shriek in the hall, and claggor comes sprinting into the kitchen, concern on his face. "what happened?!" he shouts.

you grunt. "i caught a knife."

claggor's eyes only widen more, and then he's pulling out his cellphone. "i'm calling an ambulance."

you, jinx, and mylo groan. "no! there's no need for the fuss." you try to argue.

claggor walks over to the sink, gagging at the sight of your hand. "there's a puddle of blood in the hall! and you're still bleeding!"

"'m fine." you mumble, getting a little dizzy. claggor groans.

"mylo, take her to the couch and lay her down. jinx, call dad."

"y'r a good kid." you mumble, ruffling claggor's hair with your uninjured hand as mylo guides you to the living room.

jinx brings you a glass of water as you wait.

you, jinx, and mylo sit on the couch-- your hand held over a bucket to catch all your blood-- watching claggor pace a hole in the carpet.

vi and her girlfriend only decide to see what the commotion is about when an ambulance pulls up out front.

you feel stupid and overwhelmed and your hand really fucking hurts, but you really don't want to cry in front of all your nieces and nephews.

and then, because the universe hates you, the most attractive woman you've ever seen in your life ends up being your paramedic.

jinx answers the door. you want to die when you see the angel standing on the porch. "someone called about a stabbing?" the woman asks.

you chuckle. "let her in jinx." the woman and her partner walk into silco and vander's home-- her eyebrows raising just a bit at the sight of you and the gaggle of children surrounding her. "not a stabbing. a knife thrown and caught." you say.

"really!?" vi asks, just now catching up on the drama of the night.

"yeah, because mylo tried to fucking kill me!" jinx shouts.

mylo groans. "how many times do i have to tell you i thought it was a pen! and you started it!"

you might actually start crying now. you're in so much pain, you're so overwhelmed, and you probably look gross as hell right now in front of this goddess of a paramedic, who's kneeling in front of you with a concerned look as she gently grabs your wrist.

"ran, why don't you take the kids out to the backyard and play a game? give us a little more space to work in here." the woman says to her partner.

ran grins. "you kids like freeze tag?" they ask.

the kids all burst into excited chatter, following ran out to the back of the house. you sigh in relief.

"thank you."

"i'm guessing they're not your kids?" the woman in front of you asks. you laugh, loud and surprised. you suppose it's better than crying.

"oh, fuck no! i'm their aunt, which i don't usually mind, unless it means i have to fuckin' babysit." you pout. "the tallest girl with the blazer on isn't even theirs. caught her sneakin' in to see the redhead. apparently they're besties who practice kissing." you say with a roll of your eyes.

the woman in front of you laughs. "i had a few of those back in the day." you gulp, your eyes bulging out of your head at her words. she looks back up at you with concern.

"does it hurt?" she asks. you blink, not understanding what she's referencing before you finally remember your hand. the hand she's gently cleaning with alcohol.

"you like women?" you ask miserably. the woman in front of you blinks.

"...yes?" she asks. "is that a prob--" you burst into tears before she can continue. "woah-- what, hey! what's happening? does it hurt? are you okay?"

"sorry, sorry!" you cry, waving away her concern and covering your face with a hand. "fuck this is humiliating. ignore me." you cry.

she blinks. "this is the weirdest homophobic reaction i've ever gotten."

you laugh, snot and tears flowing freely as you giggle. "no!" you squeak. "no, that's not-- just fuckin'-- of course you're a hot lesbian. i get all dressed up every weekend and go out lookin' for someone and i get nothing. i cut my fuckin' hand open after chasing kids around all day and the universe sends me the hottest woman i've ever seen. and she's a lesbian. and i'm soaked in sweat and blood and i'm pretty sure i smell like pre-teen armpits." you cry.

the woman in front of you cackles, her pretty silver eyes sparkling as she starts wrapping up your hand. "just a little. but i smell like vomit." she says with a shrug. you giggle and wipe up your tears.

"sorry." you say again. she smiles at you.

"it's okay. you're cute. 'specially now that i know you're into me and not, y'know. a bigot."

you giggle, shaking your head. "don't flirt with me." you scold. the woman beside you laughs.

"you started it!"

"i did not! i was having an emotional breakdown and you were accusing me of homophobia. i don't even know your name!"

"sevika." she says with a sweet smile. "my name's sevika. and, for the record, you're hot soaked in sweat and blood." sevika says with a shrug.

you grin. "do i need stitches?" you ask.

sevika shakes her head no. "it was bleeding a lot, but you didn't cut too deep. just keep the bandages on for a the night and change 'em out tomorrow. you should be healed up in a few days. i'll give you some cream-- if you get infected or irritated, or it doesn't heal; go to the ER."

you nod. "does that mean you're leaving, now?"

she chuckles. "worried about the kids?"

"no, well, now i am now that you mention it." you say. sevika laughs. "i was just..." you trail off.

sevika's just doing her job. she's fucking fantastic at it-- but that's all this is. she kept you talking to keep you distracted, she flirted a bit so the pain wouldn't be so bad, and now she's leaving.

"you were just what?" she asks.

you shrug. "it's inappropriate."

"can't be as bad as the old man who answered his door naked for us earlier today." she says with a shrug. you giggle.

"maybe i could get your number? in case i need help changing the bandages."

sevika grins. "yeah? that's why?" she asks with a raise of her eyebrow.

you giggle and shrug. "and maybe so i can show you how nice i clean up. take you out to dinner as a thank you."

"yeah, alright. i could be into that." sevika agrees.

you grin, then scramble for a piece of paper and a pen, eagerly handing sevika the scrap of paper. she pockets it with a sweet, shy smile.

her and ran take off a few minutes later, and silco and vander get home right after. it takes you an hour to catch them up with the events of the night: informing them of their children's petty feuds, that their daughter has a girlfriend, and that they've got a giant puddle of blood to clean up outside their room. they thank you, and with a promise that you'll never have to babysit again, you finally head home.

it's been a crazy night. you're exhausted. the moment you get home, you crawl in bed, ready for sleep.

but right before you drift off, your phone buzzes.

it's sevika, the hot lesbian.

you grin. another text comes through.

i got this weekend off, wanna treat me to that dinner you were talking about?

you end up staying up the rest of the night, texting the paramedic and giggling like you imagine vi does when she's on the phone with cait.

alright... maybe this night wasn't all that bad...

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion

[norikuna]

♩ (mdni) abstract — semi-public sex, in a library, fwb, canon!gojo x afab!reader

fwb!gojo satoru who's the cockiest man that you've ever seen. sure he's the strongest sorcerer of the modern day and age. and he's a good teacher to his students. but he doesn't give a fuck about deadlines, or being a decent coworker, or being polite and quiet in the staffroom — and it's enough to send you up the wall.

he also doesn't give a fuck about being quiet when he's drilling his solid inches into you. gojo clearly doesn't care for noise when he's got bruising fingertips pressed into your hips. when he's got your staff uniform pulled to the side so the fat tip of his cock can slap thick wisps of pre against your clit.

"ya' can feel that right, sweets," gojo's chuckling, teasing and so full of himself as he sees you sink your teeth into your lower lip, trying to keep your whines quiet, huffing and snapping at the shell of his ear.

"y'know we hafta' be quiet, right, mmph — satoru!" you don't get to finish admonishing him because he swallows your concerns in a messy kiss, all clashing teeth and tongue as he slowly pushes his fat tip past your glossy, winking entrance.

and what a sight, to know that this is how you can undo the most powerful man to walk the earth, to see his pale-pink lips drop open as his blue eyes glaze over. to know that he's losing himself in the tight heat of your pretty cunt, and he's not even halfway in yet.

"s-sorry, what was that, sweets?" he's gasping into the crook of your neck, a large hand on your thigh, manoeuvring your leg wider so he can slot his frame in between your legs, "didn't quite catch t-that, woah. it's like she's got magical powers or something." all sleazy grins and bashful smirks as he pats at the mound of your groin, right where his own hips are now tacked to yours, glistening.

"charming, satoru," you breathe out, trying not to let on that you're just as affected as he is, "b-but the students, they're gonna — hnngh," your words are cut off as he bottoms out with a slick pop! but you're never one to give up, digging your nails into the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. you thread your fingers into the soft hairs of his undercut, letting satoru practically purr above you, "they could walk in any minute, don'tcha think?"

it's clear that it's not a pressing concern to gojo right now, because he just suddenly leans back, rolling his hips slowly into yours so each angry and thick vein must be swabbing your insides, "ya' think too much, sweets. there's, hah, none on campus right n-now," and he bestows a shiny, spit-slick kiss upon your waiting lips again, "it's just you and me, ohhh — and her 'course."

you respond with a strong clench of your gummy walls around his cock, and the hand that wasn't holding your thigh up ends up slamming down hard on the oaken desk, sending books and stray papers to the floor as he huffs, "w-whoops, yer' just takin' me in sooo good, fuck, i really needed this sweets, ya' got no idea. stupid higher ups got me run dry. and you looked s-so damn good in that meeting, couldn't focus," and he's babbling now, "couldn't focus and knew i had to sneak ya' back out here, get you on my cock."

you swipe a thumb over his candy lips, all mint and sugar, as you mewl in pleasure, having him batter your guts over and over so you're imprinted against his sculpted abdomen, "you gon' pull outta me if i make a stupid joke about me milking you dry?" and gojo snickers but it quickly turns into a breathy moan, "tch, ya' don't think that's w-what i want? always so good at doin' this. why don't ya' just let me take you out properly?"

[seaofolives]

don't have asks open, don't feel like spamming my neighbors here and over at bsky, so we're doing it all under the cut!!!

How many fics have you worked on since January?

according to ao3, 47 works! blessedly few 😌 compared to my previous years, I mean. I did not double check lmao give me proper sql access to ao3 and I can

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

oh man, I'm not really sure. deliberate bad endings I think??? ao3 filter agrees with me

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

I've slowed down since, but the honor of this question is gonna have to go to gundam witch! most of them my beloved rare pairs ofc 😌 I'll still write g witch (I have a duty to my rare pair babies) but rn, the ideas have slowed down a bit

How many fandoms did you write for this year?

four! ffxv, g witch, hadesgame and gundam wing 😂

What ships captured your heart?

right so, honorary mention to gladnis who will always capture my everything everywhere. but if I had to do any special mentions, it's absolutely olgue for g witch who I absolutely did not ship until I wrote my first long-form for them And Then. and trkt for gundam wing who are like...gladnis-lite to me for Some Reason o_o

What characters captured your heart?

like just from previous answer, trowa and quatre you know! I still don't know if I have a favorite character in wing, tho Quatre is probably the closest candidate (but I still won't buy commissions and merch of him without Trowa iygwim). but more than him and more than his boyfriend! guel jeturk my gundam son 100% 😌

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

fandom would be gundam wing! ships would be trkt, 2x5, 1x2 and technically 1xr??? for g wing and for g witch, olgue has the sole honor of being mentioned 😂

What fic meant the most to you to write?

I don't really have smth that's like...REALLY personal to me rn but if we're talking like the thing that I put a bit more careful-crafting into, it's either love is stored in the jam or spiracle.

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

my god why do I keep answering these things when I never know what to answer in these what-fic questions lmao. BUT UMMM technically all of them??? BUT I will give a shout out to kabilugan ng buwan bc filipino au! manananggals!! funny things you can't translate without losing some of its humor!!!

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

by virtue of the fact that it went on much much much longer than what I expected, just the two of us (which is also what tipped me over to the olgue ship for good).

What fic was the most difficult to write?

HAHA the crying in public chapter of television romance/crying in public mostly bc despite being a gusu lover, the whole chapter is basc a whole load of suletta would absolutely not do that. but also like...the intrigue of putting suletta in a situation where she would Absolutely Do That was more compelling than whatever cheap excuse I can come up with you know??? happy to have done it tho but absolutely won't do this kind of thought experiment any time soon XDDD

What fic was the easiest to write?

in terms of like...the speed in which a fic was published from first word to permalink, what a fool believes was written in like under an hour and shared the next. I also didn't have to cut off any words to hit the 1k mark for the challenge. running up that hill was also p much like that but this one is far more quick and dirty? like I put more thought in what a fool believes than running up that hill. but in terms of like, the speed in which the words flowed out of my hands, I seem to remember developing relationship standing out.

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

shortest fic would be any of the drabbles I have up (all of which are exactly 100 words). longest fic would be hands down just the two of us, my olgue porn with plot fic which stands at 41,494 words 😂 is it any wonder i ship them now—

What were your go-to writing songs?

I can't write with music!! not anymore at least~~~ so actually I really have nothing to answer for this BUT, while I was conceptualizing and writing pull me in closer, this song was my ear worm:

so I took the title from that and worked it in bc it was convenient!

What was the hardest fic to title?

ALL OF IT fuck titles man!!!!! but like, especially with g witch, I never write with any titles or summaries in mind so looking for an old song that fits it (bc I stupidly decided that that was my theme for my g witch fics, hence me dropping that bullshit for gundam wing) is one of the hardest parts. and then with the other fics I just...never come up with anything that's cool and clicks, you know? like "okay, boomer" was the fing working title until I ran out of time, the rest are just puns and memes

What's your favorite title of the year?

probably "developing relationship". it's an ao3 tag, trowa is a developer and this is his and quatre's meet-cute so it's very multilayer????

Share your favorite opening line

man that's like 47 fics in the course of 12 months so I don't have a really good memory when it comes to these things? especially as openers for me are just whatever gets things going you know? but off the top of my head, I thought I really liked this one from if ever you're in my arms again:

Staring at the elevator’s display, a wicked thought asks Suletta: what would she do if the numbers suddenly went right back to 1?

Share your favorite ending line

the first thing that really came to mind here is (i've had) the time of my life which is:

But at least, the light of dawn is warm.

bc i really remember having the ending lines set even while I was just outlining the fic

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

my god

UMMMM

“We’d been together since I joined the Crownsguard…do you realize we would have been together for ten years now if we hadn’t broken up?”

from you. no you. I just like that ignis is being silly even tho he's being serious 🤭

Share your funniest line

OH OK. this one's a bit easier! maybe.

ummmmm

Ares’ laughter is quiet, compared to the noisy whir of electric fans, the tricycles roaring here and there past the open gate, and the radio blasting from the cheap counter at the end of the cramped room, where the lines ‘it’s been raining in Manila’ repeat in eternal damnation.

from okay, boomer. and the song referenced is:

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

off the top of my head, just the amount of words that can go into a manuscript 🤣 so no it didn't change the story bc the story is the reason why I had to write all those words you know XDDD

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

started the year on gdocs but happy to say that I think I've mostly fully migrated to ellipsus!! 🙌🏼 also I never write by hand anymore, that's why my handwriting skills are getting so shitty 😂

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

these questions are so complicated, I never want to answer these questions next year again 😂

prooobably maybe when I finished all my writing challenges for the year? like torokatober2024, assw, spite fest and stuff! it was great getting back into challenges this year but nothing is greater than writing your own ideas you know?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

I finished a fic lately and I said I will do a writing break so I'm gonna try just that!!! tho the goal is to never write again for the rest of the holiday break but uhh...I'm pretty sure I'm going to start smth before this year comes to an end knowing me XDDD

How did you recharge between fics?

this year, I think I really got into the practice of resting more than I wrote and making sure I did other hobbies THO that briefly went wayward with a few gundam wing fics that I was really excited to write 😂

Did you create fanworks other than fic?

gif sets!!! it was so great getting back into them!!!

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

six events! fth, dark and cozy, ficwip5k, torokatober2024, assw and spite fest. I thought about attempting another exchange this holiday season but decided to nope out even before the sign-ups started 😂 I feel like there would be far less for me next year, like I've had my fill this year, you know?

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

good job everyone for making it this far!!! 🙌🏼

What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

resting LMAO and a year in review for meee

What would you like to write next year?

man i dunno I'm done making plans lol they never come true anyway XDDD I have ideas I wanna write and I'd like to have the time to write them all, that's all XDDD

well happy new year, everyone!! 🙌🏼 thanks for joining me along the ride this year!! 💖💖💖

A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!

How many fics have you worked on since January?

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

How many fandoms did you write for this year?

What ships captured your heart?

What characters captured your heart?

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

What fic was the most difficult to write?

What fic was the easiest to write?

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

What were your go-to writing songs?

What was the hardest fic to title?

What's your favorite title of the year?

Share your favorite opening line

Share your favorite ending line

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share your funniest line

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

How did you recharge between fics?

Did you create fanworks other than fic?

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

What would you like to write next year?

[isaadore]

NEW YEAR'S JACK HUGHES

pairing jack hughes x reader

SUMMARY you meet jack’s parents for the first time on new year’s eve. word count 0.8k

warnings pure fluff!

note it's my birthday tomorrow (new year’s baby 🤞)!! think of this as my birthday present to u all (because it’s fluff and not angst for once). i hope everyone has a happy new year when the clock hits 12 in 24 hours <3 i also can't remember the last time i wrote for jack, so i hope u guys enjoy this mini fic 🤍 (also the last fic of the year!)

MAIN MASTERLIST JH86 MASTERLIST

SNOWFLAKES DANCED OUTSIDE the window as you sat in the passenger seat of Jack’s car, the heater humming softly. Your hands nervously fidgeted with the hem of your sweater. The drive to the Hughes’ family home felt endless, even though Jack assured you it wasn’t far.

“Hey,” Jack said, glancing at you with that gentle smile you’d come to love. “You’re gonna be great. They’re going to love you.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “That’s easy for you to say. They already love you.”

Jack chuckled, reaching over to squeeze your hand. His warmth seeped into your skin, calming you, even if just a little. “Trust me, you’ll win them over in no time. Besides, Quinn and Luke have already given you the stamp of approval.”

“Quinn barely said two words to me the first time we met,” you countered, but there was a smile tugging at your lips.

“Yeah, but now he doesn’t shut up about how ‘great’ you are for me,” Jack teased, turning into a long driveway lined with trees dusted in snow.

A big, traditional home came into view. It was lit up with strings of golden lights that reflected off the fresh snow. Jack parked and turned to you, his expression softening. “Ready?”

“Nope.”

He laughed, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “You’ve got this, babe.”

As soon as you stepped inside, the warmth of the house and the aroma of something delicious cooking instantly put you at ease. Ellen greeted you with a smile that reminded you so much of Jack’s.

“You must be Y/N. It’s so lovely to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Hughes,” you said, offering her a warm smile.

“Oh, please, call me Ellen,” she insisted, pulling you into a hug.

Jim appeared next, offering you a firm handshake and an easygoing smile. “Jack talks about you all the time. It’s great to have you here.”

You glanced at Jack, who suddenly pretended to be very interested in taking off his sneakers. “All good things, I hope.”

“Nothing but,” Jim replied, his eyes twinkling.

Over the next couple of hours, you found yourself swept into conversation and home-cooked meals. Ellen talked to you about everything from hockey to your favourite movies, while Jim told you stories about Jack as a kid; stories that made Jack groan in embarrassment.

“Oh, did Jack ever tell you about the time he got his skate stuck in the bench?” Jim began, grinning.

Jack groaned. “Dad, don’t.”

Ellen laughed from the kitchen, where she was cutting slices of pie. “He was so proud of those skates too.”

“Wait, what happened?” you asked, leaning forward, intrigued.

Jim gestured animatedly. “He was about eight and went to sit down on the bench, but his skate blade got wedged in the gap between the boards. The poor coach spent ten minutes trying to yank him loose while Jack just sat there, looking absolutely miserable and embarrassed.”

“Oh no!” you laughed, imagining a tiny Jack stuck and helpless.

“I’m pretty miserable and embarrassed right now,” Jack muttered, but the smile he was trying to hide was unmistakable.

“And then,” Luke interjected with a mischievous grin, “when he finally got loose, he skated out like nothing happened and wiped out right in front of everyone.”

“Luke!” Jack protested, throwing a napkin at his younger brother. “You were six; how do you even remember that?”

Quinn chimed in dryly, “There’s a picture somewhere. Mom probably has it in her stash.”

“Quinn!”

The table erupted into laughter, and you wiped at your eyes, your stomach hurting from how hard you laughed; you could feel a six-pack coming in. Jack groaned but leaned close to you, muttering, “I don’t know why I even brought you here.”

“Because you love me,” you teased, grinning at him.

His eyes softened, and despite the chaos around you, he gave you a small smile. “Yeah, I do.”

The evening continued with games, conversations, and even more teasing. By the time the countdown to midnight began, you felt like you were part of the family.

Jack pulled you aside as the others gathered around the TV. His hands rested on your hips, and his voice was soft as he said, “I told you they’d love you.”

You smiled, glancing back at his family. “Yeah, you were right. But don’t let it go to your head.”

Jack laughed quietly, his forehead pressing against yours. “Too late.”

The countdown began, and as the room echoed with shouts of “Ten… nine…,” Jack brushed his lips against your forehead.

“Happy New Year, Y/N,” he whispered at “three,” and at “one,” his lips met yours in a kiss that felt like the perfect start to the year.

Around you, the family cheered and clinked glasses, but Jack’s arms around you felt like home. For the first time that night, you weren’t nervous anymore; you were exactly where you belonged.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ MAIN MASTERLIST ✷ JH86 MASTERLIST

[flemingology]

midnight confessions ─ leah williamson x reader

part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!

in which: new year's eve makes the perfect opportunity to make things official with leah

warnings: none

wc: 1.2k

a/n: kinda wanna apologize for how short this is, but i've fed you accordingly this month so i don't owe you anything x also really liked how this ended!

You'd been seeing Leah for the best part of five weeks. You'd been on coffee dates, dinner dates, you've even been to her apartment to watch a movie. You weren't exclusive, yet, but neither of you weren't seeing other people. You just hadn't made it official yet. Or kissed. Or, you know, any of those things. But you were getting there.

You'd been sharing sharing a couple lingering looks and touches throughout the night. Every time one of you tried to get the other out of the commotion for a couple minutes, just for a little catch-up, it seemed like someone else wanted their attention. You were having fun, really, Leah's New Year's Eve party was well organized and you were enjoying yourself, but you'd been missing her tonight. Missing her presence, missing her laugh and her voice, missing her.

"When are you gonna kiss her?" A familiar voice pulled you out of your thoughts, glancing to the side and seeing Steph lean against the kitchen counter. "Hmm?" You acted like you didn't hear her, giving yourself a bit more breathing space to come up with an appropriate answer. "I can see the way you're looking at her, darling. Your eyes haven't left her all night." You sighed and turned towards her. "That obvious?" The Australian chuckled and swung her arm over your shoulders. "Why hasn't it happened yet?"

You wrecked your brain, searching for a legitimate, good reason why you and Leah hadn't kissed yet. But you couldn't find one. In reality, you didn't know either, and it was safe to say that you were slowly starting to feel a little apprehensive about it. There hadn't been many opportunities, but there had been enough for at least one kiss to have taken place. But no. Nothing.

"I don't know, Steph," you said, stretching the syllables of the words you were speaking. "Well, just for what it's worth, she's not been keeping her eyes off you either. In fact, she's watching us right now." Your eyes scanned the room for Leah, and a small smile crept upon her lips as you caught her gaze. You couldn't help the slight blush that adorned your cheeks. "You're whipped. And she is too. Trust me, she wants it as bad as you do. You have a great opportunity tonight. You best take it." Steph said, pressing a kiss against your cheek before leaving you to your own in the kitchen, going to mingle with some of your other Arsenal teammates.

"You having a good time?" You hadn't paid attention to Leah as you finished up talking to Steph, so you shot up surprisedly as her voice cut through the kitchen. You turned around and tried to compose yourself, trying your best not to look at the sliver of skin that was showing underneath her cropped shirt. "Yeah, I'm having loads of fun. Thanks, Le. Thanks for the invite." Leah leant her elbow on the kitchen island, taking a sip from her drink. You shouldn't find it so attractive. "Anytime. Want me to make you another drink?" You nodded, not trusting your voice not to waver if you spoke right now.

Leah mixed a whole load of stuff, not knowing much more about what she poured other than that it wasn't good for you. "Here," she began. "I don't know how good it'll be, but I tried my best to make something sweet, the way you like it." You smiled appreciatively at Leah and held out your hand, but she pulled the cup back slightly. You cocked your eyebrow at her. "Am I not getting anything in return for making you a drink?" You scoffed and rolled your eyes, but leant in nonetheless and pressed a sweet kiss against her cheek, resting your hand on her forearm for a couple seconds. "Good?" You questioned, getting lost in the smile that crept up her face.

"Perfect. Enjoy it, pretty girl. Have fun tonight. And don't get too drunk." "I wouldn't dare, Williamson."

It wasn't until much later that you found yourself face to face with Leah again. You both got caught up in your own conversations, Leah talking to Alex and her girlfriend Jess, you relentlessly winning game after game of beer pong with Alessia. You tried to keep your own alcohol intake under control, ushering Alessia or other bystanders to drink up the cups that you had to drink when someone hit a shot.

As you weaved your way through the crowd of people, on your way outdoors for a breather after your third game of beer pong in a row, you bumped into her. "Hey, where you going?" Leah grabbed your arm and looked at you with a concerned frown. "Oh, I'm just going outside for a minute, Le, don't worry." You smiled up at her, expecting her to drop your arm and make her way further towards where she was initially going, but instead she turned on her heels and led you outside with her. "You feeling okay?" she questioned as you were outside. "Yeah, I'm okay, honestly, I just needed a breather after the beer pong." A toothy grin crept onto Leah's face as you walked your way over to the railing of the balcony. "Yeah, I heard. Sounded like you guys were having fun." You felt your cheeks warming slightly, grateful for the flush that was already there due to the alcohol. She joined you, leaning her body against the railing and letting her eyes glide appreciatively over your figure.

You weren’t in the slightest aware of what time it was, the alcohol coursing through your body taking your awareness with it, but then you could hear the countdown starting inside, and where some would call it fate, you called it luck. Because if there was anyone you wanted to be outside on a balcony with, with the prospect of a New Year's kiss around the corner, it was her. This is probably that opportunity that Steph was speaking about earlier. You were ready to take it with both hands, Leah seemingly thinking the same thing. Ten.

She took a step forward, cupping your cheeks with her hands and locking her eyes with yours. The air was cold, your breath forming small puffs of air in the night sky, but Leah's touch was sending a feeling through you that made you forget about the near freezing temperatures outside. Nine.

You took a deep breath, composing yourself as you brave another look at her, her eyes twinkling with something that you couldn't quite put your finger on. But you were determined to find out what it was. Eight.

"I've really enjoyed these past couple weeks with you." Seven.

"This is gonna sound cliche, but I really don't want to end this year without telling you" Six.

"I really, really like you," she breathed. Five.

"Well, you're in luck, Williamson." Four.

"Because I really, really like you too." Three.

Leah's smile grew impossibly wider, her face brightening up as you spoke. Two.

"Is it okay if I kiss you then?" One.

"Please do." Happy fucking New Year.

[ourzeui]

student!vi x teacher!reader

note: vi's the same age as reader. this cookery class is just like one of those extra classes outside school during the summer. just imagine that being a cookery teacher is a part-time job you chose to do for fun! vi, abby, and ellie are a trio. they’re student-athletes!! (didn’t specify what sport they play) kind of ooc... very self-indulgent help this was inspired by earlier's incident of me accidentally cutting myself while trying to peel some mangoes. ALSO HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

warnings: mention of knife and blood, cursing, wlw, MEN DNI

Vi wasn't exactly sure how she ended up here—here, being in cookery class, standing behind a counter, holding a knife like it was about to turn on her any second. Normally, she’d be on a field somewhere, dominating a game, making the whole crowd cheer for her and her hotness. But today? Today she was faced with an onion, and for some reason, that was way more intimidating than any opponent she’d ever faced.

Her attention kept drifting to the front of the class, where you—the new cooking teacher—were walking around, offering advice and checking on everyone’s progress. Vi couldn’t help but watch you as you moved from station to station, effortlessly making your way through the room with that perfect mix of authority and ease. It made her stomach do flips. It wasn’t like Vi wasn’t used to being in the spotlight. She was the star athlete, after all. But you? You were different.

Vi snapped out of her thoughts as Abby, her best friend, shot her a smirk from across the counter. "You’re really gonna let an onion get to you? You’ve faced down entire teams, but you can’t even handle a fucking vegetable?"

Vi shot her a glare. “I’m fine. Just... focused.” She waved the knife, hoping she looked more confident than she felt. But the truth was, she could barely concentrate when you were standing just a few feet away, walking toward her group.

“You sure about that?” Abby teased, glancing up at you, who was now standing near their station. “You’ve got someone watching now.”

Vi felt her face flush, and for a moment, she forgot about the knife entirely. You were standing right there, close enough that Vi could smell the faintest hint of your perfume. It was enough to make her heart race.

"Everything good here?" you asked, your voice smooth and calm, as if you hadn't noticed the absolute mess that was Vi’s chopping technique.

Vi forced a smile, trying to sound like she had everything under control. “Uh, yeah. All good,” she managed, but the words came out much higher than she meant. She mentally cursed herself. Why am I so nervous?

You didn’t seem to mind though. You smiled warmly. “Great. Just remember to be careful with the knives, alright? You’ve got this, just focus a little more.”

Vi nodded quickly, praying she wouldn’t embarrass herself. “Yeah, got it.” She swallowed hard, trying to ignore how your gaze lingered on her for just a moment longer than necessary.

As soon as you moved on, Vi breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She was definitely acting like a mess, but maybe—just maybe—if she could pull it together, she could impress you. She tried to focus on the onion again, but the more she thought about it, the harder it became to cut.

Vi went for another slice—SLICE—but the knife slipped and, of course, she sliced her finger. Again.

“Well, fuck.” she muttered, clutching her finger immediately. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of embarrassment.

Ellie and Abby turned toward her in unison, then broke into laughter.

“Oh my god, here we go,” Ellie snickered, holding her stomach. “This dumbass can’t even cut an onion without turning it into a crime scene.”

Vi shot her a glare, but the pain was already subsiding. It wasn’t the injury that was bothering her, it was the fact that you were nearby, and she had just made a fool of herself.

You walked over to her station, noticing the cut right away. “You alright?” you asked, voice soft, yet concerned.

Vi barely registered the words. She was way too focused on how your presence made her feel like the most awkward person alive. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just... uh, an accident,” she stammered. Great job, Vi. Smooth.

You gently took her hand to inspect the cut, and the contact sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. "It’s small. You’ll be fine," you said, before reaching for a first aid kit. "Just a little more care next time, alright?"

Vi tried not to let her nerves show, though it was difficult with you standing so close. "I swear, onions are out to get me," she joked weakly, hoping to mask how completely flustered she was.

You laughed softly. “It’s all part of the learning process, don’t worry.” Your smile was warm and reassuring, and Vi’s heart skipped a beat. She’s smiling at me. She’s really smiling at me.

Vi managed a smile of her own, trying to act like she wasn’t completely losing it on the inside. “Yeah, I’ll try again. Just... don’t laugh too hard, okay?”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her flustered demeanor. “I won’t. You’ve got this. Just stay focused.”

As you moved on to the next station, Vi let out a breath, finally able to concentrate again. But she wasn’t sure how long she could hold it together now that you’d touched her hand and given her that smile.

“You’re totally crushing,” Abby whispered, leaning in with a teasing grin.

Vi’s face burned as she shot her friend a glare. "I’m not crushing. I’m just... trying to not mess up in front of our cooking teacher."

Ellie, who had been quietly observing, snorted. "Uh-huh, sure. Keep telling yourself that."

Vi rolled her eyes, but it was hard to hide the smile that tugged at her lips. If anything, maybe she’d actually get the hang of cooking—just so she could impress you. Maybe next time, she wouldn’t be such a disaster in the kitchen.

And maybe, just maybe, if she wasn’t so nervous, she could actually make a real impression on you beyond the onion incident.

[gumigirl]

puppy boy!yuuta ^^ tw: a little nsfw (pre-estab relationship, dub con??)

puppy boy! yuuta who's the clingyest, cutest thing !! he loves spending any amount of time with you. he's always padded right behind you whenever you're in the kitchen, laying on the couch or in bed (even though he's not supposed to be on the bed because he sheds too much)

puppy boy! yuuta who has to be touching you in some way. whether it's holding your hand, a hand on your thigh, or even just his pinky intertwined with yours. he just loves you so much and he doesn't know how to show it. he's like a bubbling pot of affection.

puppy boy! yuuta who takes it upon himself to be your own little guard dog whenever you both go out in public. holding your hand as he carries your bag, shooting protective glares at anyone who's eyes linger for a little longer than he'd appreciate. you were his, after all. and he was yours.

puppy boy! yuuta who lays on you like you're his personal mattress. just full on flops down on top of you for cuddles. but be careful if he gets too rowdy, poor baby's gonna try to bite you. just nudge his head away gently !

nsfw under the cut!!

puppy boy! yuuta who fishes your used panties out of the dirty laundry whenever you're not home. stuffing them in his mouth as he strokes his dick, his tip a lovely hue of vermilion as it leaks pre all over his sweats. drooling all over your panties as his eyes roll back, eventually he'll spit them out, instead using them to aid in getting off. wrapping the lace around his needy cock as he eagerly thrusted up into his own fist.

puppy boy! yuuta who ruts into the side of your thigh while you're dead asleep after a long mission. he just can't help it !! he's been needing you all day, and now that you were home— you were asleep? he continues grinding his hips against your thighs as you laid on your back. his hands were hesitant to touch you, not wanting to stir you awake. he knew how tired you were, of course. sweet thing, he didn't want to interrupt your rest. so he'd stick to humping your leg until he came in his pants.

an: i haven't written smut for the public eye before so like tell me if this is ass 😃‼️ anyway, live laugh love my darling yuuta !!

[jzprncess]

radio check, babe

Pairing: Lando Norris x Y/N reader

oneshot

Word count: 2,853

Summary : Y/N L/N, a decorated Air Force pilot and certified badass, has been juggling fighter jets and a long-distance relationship with McLaren’s golden boy, Lando Norris. After months away on deployment—and being totally MIA from the F1 paddock—she’s finally back just in time for the season finale in Abu Dhabi. But Y/N isn’t about to make a quiet comeback. With Lando chasing victory and McLaren on the verge of clinching the Constructors' Championship, she plans the ultimate surprise. During the final lap, her voice cuts through the team radio, reminding Lando she’s always been in his corner. Cue the waterworks, the feels, and an epic reunion that’s part racing history, part love story.

Note: i kinda had inspiration for this one and its also good that i at least dropped something with lando after saying i was going to and then scrap the whole thing lol. this was a request!

⋆⭒˚｡⋆✈︎

The jet engines were still buzzing in her ears as Y/N stepped off the plane, her duffel bag casually thrown over her shoulder. After months of being deployed, the hot desert air in Abu Dhabi hit her like a wave of nostalgia. She’d flown all over the world in her Air Force career, but this time felt different. She wasn’t just another pilot on a mission—she was back, or at least as close as she could get without being wrapped up in Lando’s arms.

Her fingers gripped the strap of her bag a little tighter as she walked through the airport, shades on to hide from the curious stares around her. The last time she was in Abu Dhabi, it was to cheer Lando on, to laugh at pit stop fails and celebrate team wins with him. But now? She wasn’t a WAG on the sidelines anymore. She was someone who’d spent way too many nights staring at the stars, hoping Lando was looking up at the same sky.

McLaren had kept her surprise on the down low, helping her set up the ultimate "gotcha" moment. The plan was simple but meaningful: wait for the right time on Sunday to make her presence known. It’d be just one voice on the radio, but she hoped it’d be enough to remind Lando of how much she believed in him, loved him, and was so proud of him.

The world saw him as F1’s next big thing, but to her, he was still the guy who let her braid his hair for fun, the one who sent her sunset pics when they were apart, and the dude who always told her he loved her, even when things were tough.

As she pulled up to the hotel, the reality of actually seeing him hit hard. She wasn’t just about to surprise her boyfriend—she was walking back into a world that had missed her as much as she’d missed it. But for now? She needed to stay focused. Lando had no idea she was even in Abu Dhabi, and she was gonna keep it that way until race day.

Y/N checked into her hotel room and tossed her duffel bag on the bed, her heart racing as she unpacked the essentials. There was still time before the race weekend, but every moment felt like it was slipping through her fingers. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out, half-expecting a message from Lando. But instead, it was a text from McLaren’s PR team, confirming all the last-minute details of her plan.

She couldn’t help but smile, knowing she was about to pull off something that would be talked about for years.

Her fingers hovered over the screen as she typed a quick reply, making sure everything was set for race day. There was no going back now—she was in Abu Dhabi, and she was going to make sure Lando never forgot this moment.

The next few days blurred into a whirlwind of meetings, press events, and quiet moments spent reflecting on what she was about to do. She was used to the adrenaline of fighter jets, the precise timing of military operations, but nothing compared to the quiet anxiety that settled in her chest every time she thought about race day.

When Sunday finally arrived, Y/N was up before dawn, dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, trying to stay as low-key as possible. The McLaren team had kept her out of sight—no one could know she was here until the moment was right. She walked into the paddock with purpose, her sunglasses hiding her face as she weaved through the busy atmosphere. It felt strange to be back. This world, so familiar, yet so different now.

By the time the race started, her nerves were a distant memory. Lando had been doing what he did best all weekend—smashing lap times, staying focused, and keeping his eye on the prize. McLaren was on the verge of clinching the Constructors' Championship, and Lando’s drive was relentless. She couldn’t help but watch him on the track, her heart swelling with pride. He was so close.

And then came the final lap.

Y/N stood behind the curtain, the crowd’s roar fading as her heart pounded in her chest. She could hear the comms chatter, the calm voices of the team, but it was the moment she’d been waiting for.

"Alright, Lando, last lap, mate," the engineer’s voice crackled over the radio.

And then, just as Lando approached the final sector, Y/N’s voice—quiet but unmistakable—cut through the static.

“Hey, Lando… just wanted to remind you—I’ve always got your six.”

A beat of silence, then a stunned pause from the team. Y/N held her breath, praying he would hear her. And then, she heard it.

"Lando? Did you—? Wait, is that Y/N?"

It was his voice, full of disbelief, followed by a soft, emotional chuckle that made her knees weak.

She smiled to herself, knowing the surprise had landed.

"Focus, mate!" the engineer quickly snapped, but it was clear that the moment had shifted. The tension on the radio had softened, and for a moment, it felt like time had stopped.

Lando was racing for victory, the team was on the edge of a championship, but in that one instant, it was just the two of them, connected by words, by love, by everything they had been through together.

With the finish line in sight, Y/N knew the moment was almost here. She turned to the screen, As the checkered flag waved, Lando crossed the finish line, securing McLaren’s first Constructors' Championship in years. The crowd erupted in applause, the sound of a distant hum in Y/N's ears as she stood frozen for a split second. Her eyes never left the screen, watching Lando’s car coast to a stop, his victory becoming real in that very moment.

Her heart raced, adrenaline coursing through her veins. It wasn’t just a win for McLaren—it was a win for him. For them.

She could hear the team celebrating on the radio, but it wasn’t until the team principal’s voice came through that she snapped back into reality.

"Congratulations, Lando," he said, his tone warm but professional. "And... Y/N, welcome home."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The team had kept her arrival a secret, but now that Lando knew she was there, she felt the weight of that moment. Lando’s voice crackled through the comms once more, but it was different now—full of emotion, disbelief, and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

"Y/N, wait, you—are you really here?" Lando asked, his voice cracking slightly, a mix of shock and relief.

She could hear the sound of his heartbeat in his words, the rush of everything he was feeling in the moment. The realization that they had both made it through the distance, the loneliness, and the uncertainties. That they were finally here, together again.

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling the world shift around her as she stepped forward, her voice steady but filled with love.

"Yeah, I’m here. I’ve got your six, always. I’m so proud of you, Babe."

There was a long pause before she heard him again, softer this time, as if trying to process everything at once. "You’re killing me, you know that? You—always—know how to make this moment so much better."

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away, her focus on what was coming next. The sound of the celebration in the background started to feel distant as she pushed forward, walking through the corridors of the paddock, heading toward the podium where Lando was waiting.

This wasn’t just about a race win. It was about them. It was about every sleepless night, every text and call, every moment of longing and hope. It was about finding each other again in the chaos of their separate worlds, and now, here they were. Standing on the precipice of a future that was just beginning to unfold.

And as she finally walked out into the paddock, the sight of Lando waiting for her, a grin plastered across his face, was all she needed. The noise of the crowd, the chaos of the celebrations, all of it faded into the background as she locked eyes with him. In that moment, nothing else existed but him, standing there, looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered.

Lando’s grin softened into something more intimate as he closed the distance between them. His eyes were filled with emotion—surprise, relief, joy—and there was a rawness in his expression that made her heart ache.

Without saying a word, he pulled her into a tight hug, lifting her off her feet as if he couldn’t believe she was really there. Y/N laughed softly, wrapping her arms around him, the warmth of his embrace feeling like the home she’d been craving for months. His scent, the familiarity of his touch, it all felt like the missing piece she hadn’t even realized she was searching for.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Lando muttered against her hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been thinking about you every damn day, and now... this? This is unreal.”

Y/N pulled back slightly, her hands gently cupping his face as she looked up at him, her heart in her throat. “I’ve always been here, Lando. Always. Even when we were apart, I was right there with you. You know that, right?”

His hands came to rest on her waist, and he nodded, his forehead resting against hers for a moment as they shared the quiet intimacy of the moment. The rest of the world could wait. Right now, it was just the two of them.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “And I felt it. Every second. It’s been the hardest thing, being away from you... but this”—he gestured around to the celebrations, the team, the whole paddock—“this doesn’t even compare to how much I needed you here with me.”

Y/N smiled softly, her thumb tracing the outline of his lips, the weight of his words sinking in. She could feel the emotions bubbling up again, tears threatening to spill, but she held them back. This wasn’t the time for tears—it was a time for celebration, for love, for them.

“You’re my champion, Lan,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the distant sounds of victory. “And I’m so damn proud of you.”

His eyes shone with a mixture of gratitude and something deeper—something that made her chest tighten. Lando reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch gentle, reverent, like he was afraid she might disappear if he wasn’t careful.

“You have no idea how much that means,” he said, his voice steady but filled with so much love that it nearly took her breath away. “I wouldn’t be here without you. You’ve always had my back, and now... we get to share this.”

Y/N laughed softly, her heart swelling with a love so intense it almost felt like a dream. “We’ve got a lot more to share, Lovebug.”

He leaned in then, closing the small gap between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was soft at first, a moment of quiet connection. But then, the kiss deepened, filled with everything they had missed—the longing, the passion, the promise of a future finally shared. The sound of cheers in the background faded into nothingness as they stood there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside their little bubble irrelevant.

When they finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Lando gave her a playful look. “So, uh... you want to join me for the podium celebration? I think there’s a spot for you next to me.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “I think the podium got enough glory for one person today, don’t you think?”

Lando grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Guess we’ll have to share it, then.”

They made their way through the paddock, hand in hand, a quiet smile shared between them as they entered the chaos of the victory celebration. The team was already gathered around, clapping and cheering, and as they stepped onto the podium together, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride for everything Lando had achieved. This wasn’t just his moment—it was theirs.

Lando leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “You’ve got me through the toughest parts, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Her heart swelled at his words, but she only smiled, squeezing his hand in response. “You’ll never have to find out.”

As the national anthem played and the champagne sprayed, Y/N stood beside him, feeling like the luckiest person in the world. She had come into this paddock as an outsider, but now, she was part of something bigger—a team, a family, and a love that had been tested but never broken.

When it was time for photos, Lando pulled her close, his arm wrapping around her waist as they posed together, his grin infectious as they both reveled in the moment. The photographers snapped away, capturing their smiles, their joy, and the unspoken connection between them. In that snapshot of time, nothing else mattered—just the two of them, standing side by side at the top of the world.

Afterward, the celebrations continued, but Y/N found herself lost in the quiet of the moment, content just to be there with him. As they made their way back to the garage, the weight of everything they had shared, everything they had overcome, settled around them like a comforting blanket.

Lando stopped, turning to her with a soft, sincere look. “You’ve made this the best day of my life, Y/N. I love you. Always.”

Y/N smiled, feeling her heart race once more. “I love you too, Lan. And I’ll always be here, cheering you on. No matter what.”

And as they stood there, surrounded by the noise of the team, the flashing lights of cameras, and the cheers of fans, everything felt surreal. The adrenaline from the race, the excitement of the win, the love between them—it all blended together in a whirlwind of emotion.

Y/N glanced at Lando, her heart full as she watched him interact with his team, his joy infectious. But through it all, he kept finding his way back to her, his eyes always coming to rest on hers, a silent promise between them.

The crowd around them grew more animated as the party shifted into full celebration mode, but Y/N and Lando took a step back, out of the limelight for a moment. Just the two of them, standing together in a quiet corner, sharing a peaceful moment amidst the chaos.

“I’m so proud of you,” Y/N said, her voice soft but full of meaning. "You’ve worked so hard for this, Lando. And I couldn’t be happier for you."

Lando smiled, his expression tender as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You’re the reason I keep going. You’re the reason I’m here.”

She shook her head, the words feeling too big for her to fully grasp. “No, Hun. You’ve always been incredible. I just... I just made sure you knew you weren’t alone.”

Lando’s gaze softened, and he took her hand, squeezing it gently. “We’re never alone. Not anymore.”

The sounds of the celebration grew distant as Y/N leaned into Lando, resting her head against his shoulder. They stood there for a while, lost in the comfort of each other’s presence, knowing this moment would be something they’d look back on forever.

As the night wore on and the team moved on to the next phase of the celebration, Lando turned to her with a playful grin. “So... what do you say we make our own little victory lap?”

Y/N laughed, her heart lifting as she looked up at him. “I’m all in for that.”

They left the party behind, walking hand in hand under the desert sky. The air was cool now, a stark contrast to the heat of the day, and the stars above twinkled like they were shining just for them.

For the first time in what felt like forever, everything was right. The distance, the time apart—it all felt like it had been leading up to this moment. A new chapter, one where they didn’t just survive the distance but thrived in it. And as they walked into the night together, Y/N knew that the road ahead wouldn’t always be easy, but as long as they were side by side, it would always be worth it.

“Here’s to us,” Lando said, his voice full of promise.

“Here’s to us,” Y/N echoed, squeezing his hand, and in that simple gesture, she knew they had both found exactly what they needed all along.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

taglist : @heluvsjappie @awritingtree @steamy-smokey

[papaya-twinks]

a kids’ fairytale - l.n

Warnings: single!father, single!mother, swearing, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sex, anxiety, picking nails/skin

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: Having a child so young hadn’t exactly been Lando’s idea of a fairytale, but what happened next, well, more suited to his kind of story ✨

Having a child so young hadn’t been Lando’s idea of a fairy tale dream.

Lando had been 20 at the time - young and reckless. Too reckless.

A night of drinks and rowdiness, ending up with his girlfriend, who was also 20, pregnant with a child she didn’t want - and child she was angry at Lando for having put in her.

And as much as he pleaded and begged her to stay once his little baby girl was born - she wouldn’t.

In her words, she didn’t want to live with Lando from mistakes he had made.

And that hurt him. A hell of a lot more than he’d like to admit.

Because he loved his little girl, a hell of a lot more than that bimbo who’d walked out on him.

And besides, little Honey looked so much like Lando, you wouldn’t have even guessed there was another person involved if biology didn’t exist.

She had his gorgeous, chocolate brown ringlets, shimmering green eyes, and a heart of gold.

Just like her father.

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Now you, on the other hand. A similar story, but inverted. A father who didn’t care so much for you or your child, and mistakes when you were 19.

That left you and your poor boy, Alec, to fend for yourself.

But you worked hard, you weren’t the kind of person to wallow in mistakes you’d made when you were younger, and you’d worked.

You’d worked for so long, trying your best to provide food for your child, and soon enough, a promotion for your dedication catapulted you to the success that brought your child happiness.

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“You excited, baby?” Lando smiled, kneeling down in front of his daughter.

Honey nodded gleefully, her eyes bright and shining as her father squeezed her hand.

Since she was born, Lando had made it his mission to give her the upbringing any and every child deserved, and he tried his best to fill in the place of a mother as best he could.

And so, he’d spent hours when she was only two, sitting In his room for ages past midnight brushing the head of a mannequin, and learning how to braid.

And he was never prouder, as he looked at the beautiful girl that was his daughter, her hair tied in pigtails he has tied, with little bows on the end, just like she’d asked for.

“Daddy, I’m gonna make so many friends!” she squealed, clutching at his hand.

“Never been surer,” he said, gently rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Everyone’s gonna like you, beans,”.

He’d conveniently put a hoodie and an oversized coat on, enough to cover up his identity so the attention wasn’t taken away from his daughter’s first day at school.

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“Mama, what if no one wants to be friends with me?” Alec said, chewing on his nails.

“Hey, hey,” you scolded, “none of that now,”.

“Don’t be silly, baby, everyone’s gonna wanna be your friend, won’t they?

“Mama, I’m not sure,” he said, still picking and chewing at the skin around his nails.

You gently took his smaller hand in your, giving it a squeezers you looked into his scared, puppy-looking eyes.

“Baby, I promise you, it’s gonna be fine, okay?” you said, examining the little cut on his finger where he’d picked off the skin.

Half the time, you were tempted to put his baby mittens back on to keep him from doing this.

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The walk to school was a quiet, yet comfortable silence.

You were hand in hand with your little boy, his backpack slung over your shoulder.

“I spy, with my little eye…” he looked around, his eyes flickering from place to place.

You’d decided that maybe playing a game would distract him from the nerves of starting at this school and ease the little cogs working in the back of his mind.

“…something beginning with…G!”.

“Hmmm,” you said, playing along, “garbage can!” you said, looking around.

“Nuh-uh, Mama, try again!”.

“Gate…Glasses….Girraffe!” you laughed as he squeezed at your hand! laughing as much as you were.

“No mama!” Alec laughed, “there’s not a giraffe anywhere!”

“Maybe there is….no what was it, then?”.

“Girl!” he pointed at a brunette girl in the distance, who looked equally as shy as him, holding her father’s hand.

Interesting.

You usually didn’t see fathers dropping their kids off to school or anything….

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Lando was standing anxiously in line, painfully aware of the whispers between the other parents, particularly the mothers.

The only other fathers had at least another woman with them, and god, he hated gender stereotypes.

“Daddy, that boy’s pointing at us,” Honey said, tugging on his hand.

“Hm?” Lando hummed, snapping out of his thoughts and following his daughter’s gaze.

She was right, there was indeed a very timid looking at them.

And hand-in-hand with a woman, a very pretty one at that.

Like every new parent, it was his first time doing all…this…parent stuff.

Lando didn’t know whether to be concerned or just ignore it, and regard it as kids being kids…but it was definitely slightly odd.

“Daddy, do we say hi?” Honey whispered as Lando knelt down, thinking for a second.

Meanwhile, you were desperately trying to make Alec put his damn hand down and stop pointing at poor strangers.

“Mama, they saw us,” Alec said, wide-eyed.

“Of course they did, you numpty,” you said, poking him on the nose, “you were pointing at them,”.

Alec pouted at the fact that he’d been ‘caught’, taking your hand as you followed him into the classroom.

“Alec, sweetie, it’s a line,” you said, slightly embarrassed as he walked cluelessly in front of the girl.

“Hey,” she said indignantly, tapping him on the shoulder.

Oh god.

“We were here first,” she said, her tone showing she was clearly not happy with the line cutting on your son’s behalf.

Lando looked just as embarrassed for his own daughter, a light red blush spilling from his cheeks all the way to his ears as he averted his gaze from you.

“Darling, c’mon, let’s not be rude-,” Lando started, his words going completely over Honey’s head.

“Go to the back,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Sorry,” Lando mouthed to you as you nodded, tugging slightly on Alec’s arm.

“C’mon, sweetie, she’s right, no pushing in,” you said, trying to encourage him to move.

But he was frozen still on the spot.

His eyes were wide, brimming with tears as Lando groaned, why did his daughter inherit his attitude as well?

“Honey!” Lando said, kneeling down, “you can’t make people cry!”.

She opened her mouth to bicker but Lando was having none of it, whispering to her as she pouted.

You’d managed to clean some of the spilled tears with your hands, calming him down as he sniffled.

“C’mon, now, no tears on your first day,” you cooed.

Lando looked sympathetic as he watched your cradle your son in your arms, and even Honey looked slightly guilty.

You reluctantly let Alec back down as the teacher let all the children down, not without him giving you a kiss on the cheek, taking his bag and walking slowly behind everyone else.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry-,” Lando started, in sync with you.

You both paused, before laughing, as Lando held his hand out for you to shake.

“I’m…Oscar and my daughter’s Honey,” he said, waiting for you to share your name.

He didn’t know why he had lied, much less why he’d chosen his teammates name, but hey, he’d rather you didn’t know he was famous.

“Y/N, and my one’s Alec,” you said, walking away from the class beside “Oscar”.

(A/N - I’ll refer to him still as Lando except in dialogue so it makes sense 😭)

“They’re tough little things to deal with, aren’t they?” Lando asked, digging his hands into his pockets.

“Tell me about it,” you laughed, your breath puffing in front of your face.

“Much harder when you’re a single parent.” Lando muttered under his breath as you looked up. “What was that?” you asked, cocking your head as he blushed again.

“Nothing, nothing,” he said quickly, “didn’t mean to trauma dump,”.

“No, you said something about single parents,” you said, “you’re…a single parent as well?”.

“Yep,” he grimaced, before pausing.

“Wait, you are as well?” he asked, raising a brow as you nodded; was that so hard to believe.

“Oh, but I thought…nevermind,” he said, shaking his head quickly.

“No, c’mon, share with the class,” you smiled, purposefully adding the school-related pun to the mix as Lando laughed.

“Would’ve thought someone would’ve scooped you up by now, I mean…you’re quite…you know, forgive me for being forward,” he said bashfully, “you’re quite pretty,”.

“Oh,” you blushed, “well thank you very much,”.

“You’re quite good looking yourself,” you added as he laughed, smiling at your compliment.

“You know, I could swear I’ve seen your face somewhere,” you said out of the blue, his body going into alert mode.

No, absolutely not.

He was not about to fuck up this little chance with this very hot pretty and very kind mom by bringing up the fact he was a rich, famous F1 driver.

“No. Probably not,” Lando said, far too quickly, “I have, uh, one of those faces, y’know?”.

“You sure you aren’t famous or anything?” you teased.

“Famous? Uh, little ol’ me?” he laughed, trying to keep himself authentic, “not at all,”.

You just chuckled, digging your own hands into your pockets.

“Well, this is me, so,” you said, gesturing to the dingy little apartment as he nodded.

God forbid you ever saw his grand ass house.

“It was nice meeting you Y/N,” Lando nodded, giving you a wage as you smiled.

“You as well,”.

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As much as you told yourself that maybe you hadn’t seen Lando somewhere, and maybe your mind was playing on tricks on you, it just wouldn’t stop bugging you. 

He definitely wasn’t “one of those faces”. 

Not in the slightest. 

Which other person that you could possibly know could have such perfect, chocolate brown curls, such pretty olive green eyes, such perfect lips-

Hold. Up.

Since Alec had been born, you’d vowed never to go near another man like that, what the fuck? 

What the hell was going on? 

You weren’t some feeble little girl who relented to men who looked the slightest but attractive, not at all…what was this man doing to you? 

You didn’t want Lando to be another mistake.

Not like when you’d be younger and more innocent and more stupid.

But you didn’t have time to worry about who Lando was, if that was even his name, anyways, because Alec needed to be picked up.

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But on that walk to pick up your son, you couldn’t help but think that maybe you were being a bit too cautious.

He had said he was a single parent, so maybe he struggled as well.

You walked into the gates, shivering in the cold once again as you waited for the kids to come out, catching Lando’s eye as you did so.

You gave him a smile, hands buried deep into your packets as you shivered.

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Shit.

Why’s she not coming over? Has she found out who I am? Go,leave, anything but that…

The thoughts were rushing through Lando’s head as he took a breath, deciding to walk over. “Hey,” you smiled as he did so, nodding your head.

“Hi,” he said, “just thought I’d come over whilst we waited for the kids,” he nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” you said, looking to the door. “So, Oscar,” you said, using the name he’d told you, “how’s your daughter been?”.

“Oh, Honey? She’s got an attitude on her, but she’s been an angel,” he gave you a nod, “and Alec?”

“I’m sure she has,” you smiled, “Alec’s more on the introvert side of things,”.

“Yeah,” Lando nodded, “I noticed,”.

“Take after his mother or what?” Lando asked, watching the steady stream of kids pour out, neither of yours in sight.

“Takes after me more than the father, thankfully,” you laughed, “Honey take after you or is she like her mother?” you asked, reflecting the question.

“Definitely in looks,” you added.

“Yeah, she looks a lot like me,” Lando smiled, “she’s taken my attitude as well, which is….yeah,” Lando chuckled.

“Damn, that’s a…change,” you said.

Lando looked up, letting out another laugh as you both watched Honey talking a lot, and Alec standing there and listening to her politely.

“At least they get on,” Lando pointed out as you nodded.

“Hey baby,” you knelt down, leaving Lando to talk to Honey, “how was school, hm?”.

“I made a friend,” Alec said, his eyes lighting up as Honey gave you a wave, making you smile.

This couldn’t have fallen into Lando’s favour this well.

“I saw,” you smiled, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Daddy, can me and Alec go to the park?” Honey asked as you and Lando nodded, walking with them to the nearby park.

“So,” Lando said, “they’re pretty close, i s’ppose,”.

“Right they are,” you said, your doubts as to who Lando was, long forgotten.

“I guess we’re gonna a have to have play dates at each other’s places, then,” you said coolly, watching the kids, missing the way Lando tensed.

“Yeah, yeah, maybe,” Lando said, “I’m doing some renovations at the moment,” he lied, “so I’m not really sure I’ll be able to have anyone round,”.

“Oh that”s fine,” you said, still determined to be suspicious, as you watched the kids play.

“You can bring Honey round mine, and maybe we can have some coffee like grown adults,” you laughed.

“Yeah…I hate coffee,” Lando said, scrunching his nose as you chuckled.

“Me too,” you smiled.

[snoopysarchive]

STRANGER a multi x fem! reader fic

synopsis

he reminisces of what once was

content warning death, angst, hurt no comfort, suggestive (making out) word count 909

m.list

HE FLIPPED THROUGH PAGES AND PAGES of old journal entries from his late teens to early 20’s, the pages yellowed by time, spine cracking at parts. Reliving his golden years by reading his past self’s writing felt bittersweet, nostalgia filled his heart. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could recall exactly when he wrote everything down: the place, the time, the exact brand of pen he used, and most of all, the lingering smell of her sweet perfume that would cling to his clothes.

Something slipped from in between two pages, pressed and long forgotten by time. A photograph, in mint condition, from the day he turned nineteen. He bent down to pick it up, freezing as he saw the contents. To most, it wouldn’t seem like much–just a photo of an ordinary kid at a concert for some obscure band they were obsessed with. But to him, it was everything. He knew more to the story that met the eye, he could see the girl in the corner, how she looked down at him with nothing but pure adoration in her eyes. A look that could practically scream “I love you”, a look that he once believed only existed in movies.

He remembered that day like the back of his hand, perfectly etched into his mind. He remembers her, everything about her. From the way she dressed, to the way she talked, the way the corners around her eyes would crinkle any time she smiled, the way she’d throw her head back when laughing, and how she’d eat hot food without a second thought, always burning her tongue. 

He chuckled to himself. She would always complain about how much her tongue hurt afterwards, sticking out her tongue for him to see.

He remembers the soft pink of her tongue, sticking out between her lips as she pouted, waiting for him to play along and offer some kind of remedy, even though they both knew there wasn’t much he could do. Yet, he always did humor her, shaking his head and telling her “one day, you’re gonna learn to be patient.”

She never did though. And truthfully, he never did want her to. That stubborn streak of hers was what made her her. 

He remembers the late nights they’d share, not going to sleep until the late hours of the night. She’d point out all the constellations on clear nights, the ones spent away from the light polluted city. Oftentimes though, they’d just stay up to see the sunrise, leaning into each other as the bright red-orange streaks of light touched their skin.

He remembers how her lips felt against his. The way she’d always taste like honey and spearmint gum against his mouth. The way she’d bite and nip at his lower lip during makeout sessions, something that would always take him by surprise. He remembered the swollen lips they’d share and her flushed cheeks, most likely mirroring his own. The way her hand fit in his, almost as if they were meant to be—the only two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly in the vast universe of misshapen objects and people. 

Looking at the photo now, he could almost hear her laughter, feel the warmth of her presence, see the wide grin she’d always have for him. It was strange how a single picture could bring with it a tidal wave of emotions—love, regret, and longing for what once was. 

Despite how vividly he remembered everything else about her, he couldn’t quite remember why they had parted ways.

It was a blur of events, he couldn’t even remember what caused the argument. All he could remember was her tear-soaked face, the pillow she threw at him, and the words she screamed at him and the words he had screamed back.

“I hope you’re happy! This isn’t going to just be FIXED, you’ve ruined it for good now! You’ve RUINED us.” 

He remembered how her words cut him like a knife, even now, nearly 10 years later, he could feel every emotion he felt back then at 21 years old.

“You made me miserable yet I still loved you! I loved you through everything. And this is how you repay me?” 

He still remembered the way she pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting back the tears that had already started pouring. He remembered the change in her demeanor, her tone. Her yelling had ceased to a stop after his 320th apology. She would just stare at him with blank eyes.

“I’m not coming home. don’t look for me.”

With that he saw her walk out of their shared apartment, and out of his life. 

He had only heard later, from her family of the accident. She swerved her car into a ditch, they said, dead on arrival.

He didn’t know when the tears had started to fall, but staring at the picture and reading the journal, his vision became blurry. He couldn’t help but blame himself, carrying that guilt for the past 10 years of his life. 

“BABE, C’MON, WE’RE GONNA BE LATE.” His wife’s voice pulled him out of his head, he stood up and sighed, brushing off any tears and placing the journal back with the others. The last box to be taped off and hidden in the farthest corner of the attic, never to be seen again.

Unlike her, she’d always find a way to crawl back into his mind—no matter what.

AKAASHI, suna, oikawa, KITA, terushima, kogane, hinata, TSUKISHIMA, iwa, mattsun, atsumu, sakusa, OSAMU, kuroo, asahi, daichi, UKAI, sugawara, yuuji, MEGUMI, geto, gojo, NANAMI, toji, choso, ino, YUUTA, inumaki + your faves

@reocidal (thank for also beta reading)

© snoopysarchive

[steddieas-shegoes]

coming in clutch

@starrystevie asked two days ago for someone to write enemies to lovers Steddie on the same hockey team and one of them gives the other his stick from the bench and so I volunteered and yesterday afternoon started writing this and it got to almost 6000 words by this morning. Oops?

This is therapy for me, as a Bruins fan, who is suffering tremendously this season. I can't believe some people live like this all the time. I am so, so sorry. I promise you fixing it with Steddie helps ease the ache a little. It's bitch4bitch, what's not to love?

rated e, minors dni | 5801 words | also on ao3 | cw: mention of injury, hate making out for the drama | tags: modern au, hockey au, enemies to lovers, feelings realization, sorta love confessions, anal fingering, anal sex, handjob, life is a series of connections

🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

If there’s one thing Eddie Munson knows, it’s that Steve Harrington will steal the show.

With less than two minutes left in the game that will determine if they clinch the wild card spot for the playoffs, it could still go either way. They need a goal to tie it, and the point will be enough to get in, even if they lose in overtime.

The Rangers don’t even get anything if they win this one except a pat on the back, yet they’ve pulled their goalie in hopes of ruining the only chance the Bruins have of getting into the playoffs. If Eddie wasn’t seething with rage about potentially starting his offseason much sooner than expected, he’d respect the hell out of them for it.

How they got into this much of a mess is beyond him…or really it isn’t. It’s well within reach.

He knows from the beginning shit was hitting the fan and then it just…kept hitting the fan.

They started bad and they don’t play well from behind in games, so how could they catch up when their entire season went to shit so early on?

It should never come down to one win, not for them.

But he knows that some of the issues are that Steve was handed this captaincy before he was ready, and Eddie’s done nothing to truly help him. He wears an A, but it’s more for Asshole or Annoyance than Assistant. He knows it, Steve knows it, the team knows it.

It’s making everything harder.

Coach already lit him up a few times over stupid shit this season, things he can’t get away with for much longer. His time will be cut short on this team if he can’t-

The whistle blows and there’s a penalty on Hargrove. Not surprising, but it’s enough to get Eddie out of his own head and focus. There’s barely a minute left and they’re facing a long offseason if they don’t get their shit together.

He won’t see more ice time today. He’s third line right now, a demotion from his usual first line after a string of shitty, stupid penalties. Coach will send the first line back out for the last minute to increase their chances of scoring.

The puck drops and they make the fastest line change they’ve managed the entire game.

Steve’s skating to the puck, eyes on the prize. He’s good at it, despite Eddie hating that he feels constant competition with him. They don’t even play the same position. Eddie’s a defenseman for fuck sake. Steve’s a center. The only competition is what’s made up in his own head.

Steve gets there first, manages to pass it to Sinclair, who passes it to Hagan. It’s beautiful, but it’s not enough.

The puck is cleared out and they have to rush to it to start setting up again.

They don’t have time.

And then Steve tries to shoot it to center ice and his stick breaks. It’s the worst timing. Eddie feels his heart sink in his chest at the realization that this is it. They’re done.

Steve’s skating to the bench, yelling about needing a replacement when he should just get off the ice, let someone else out there. They’re gonna lose anyway.

Eddie throws Steve his own stick. It’s not the right curve, and not the right length. It’s not even the same brand.

But if there’s one thing Eddie can respect about Steve, it’s that he’s a damn good player. He makes shit happen, even when no one else can. He’s been their saving grace this season, arguably the only reason they’ve managed to even have a shot at the wild card spot.

He may hate his guts, and he may be annoyed that he got picked as captain, and he may also find him impossible to be around most of the time, but he can see that he’s one of the best players in the league.

Steve’s never skated harder than in this moment, and Eddie can’t feel his face as Steve sneaks the puck between the legs of Wheeler, winds back, and shoots.

None of their players get to it in time.

It goes in their empty net.

The bench is so loud, Eddie can’t even hear himself think.

They’ve tied it up.

The clock says 24 seconds.

It’s as good as done.

They’ll have overtime, of course, but they squeaked in the playoffs. They get at least four more games.

Steve skates to the bench and hands Eddie his stick, but doesn’t say anything.

That irks Eddie a little.

“Not even a thank you for getting the assist on that one?” Eddie asks because if he’s one thing, it’s a shithead.

“Shut up, Munson. Could’ve scored an empty net from the locker room,” Steve replies with an eyeroll, his smile dropping in annoyance.

A for annoyance, after all.

“With a broken stick?” Eddie pushes because he loves to push and because Steve always pushes back.

It’s their game.

Steve sits on the bench, catches his breath for a moment while the arena celebrates his goal.

“How about a thank you for getting us to the playoffs?” Steve says back.

It’s unlike him to be self-centered like this. It throws Eddie off.

For once, he doesn’t have a damn thing to say.

The goalie gets back in the net and the Rangers finish off the regulation game with their tails tucked between their legs.

Eddie doesn’t get sent back out, but neither does Steve.

Coach leans down to say something in Steve’s ear and he grits his teeth together, jaw clenching painfully.

When they’re about to start overtime, Coach taps his back and tells him to go.

“But it’s first line?” Eddie asks.

“I said go, Munson!” Coach says, leaving no room for argument.

So Eddie goes. He’s not gonna argue with the coach, and he’s damn sure not gonna be the reason there’s a delay in starting.

He skates to the blue line and sees the focus on Steve’s eyes.

This game can end either way to him and he won’t care, but Steve wants this win. He wants the two points, not just one. He wants to say they overcame a shitty game to pull off a win.

He would never admit it, but his effort is for Steve. His speed and hits during the first shift are to give Steve every opportunity to pull off this win.

If Steve wins, they all win.

Eddie should have had that mindset for every game. Maybe they wouldn’t have had to fight for their lives just to get a shot at the playoffs.

It’s not a great shift, but they manage to shut the Rangers down a few times.

Steve is red-faced on the bench, watching the second line move with a fire they were lacking for much of the first 60 minutes. That’s been a pattern this season, something Eddie isn’t sure they’ll get over with this group.

It ends during the third line’s shift.

The Rangers get a breakaway and score.

It’s a loss, but they’ve still won something. They aren’t leaving completely empty-handed.

The walk down the tunnel is interrupted by the broadcast person yelling for Steve to stay back to do the post-game interview and accept third star of the game. It always sucks accepting a star away from home ice, but Steve’s used to it by now.

He’s the guy who comes in clutch. He’s always a star.

Eddie’s only a little jealous over it.

The rest of the team is pretty quiet despite their playoff spot.

Coach stands in the center of the room.

“We got lucky,” he says. His tone is calm, but there’s something hidden beneath it that Eddie can sense is anger. “We won’t get lucky in the first round. Get your shit together before next week or you might as well start scheduling your tropical vacations.”

He leaves the room.

No one says anything as they get undressed. No one speaks when Steve comes in the room and wordlessly undresses. No one utters a word when he’s the first to leave, even though that’s the first time that’s happened in the history of ever.

Eddie follows him.

He should give him space. Now isn’t the time to work him up more.

Now is the time to be a good teammate, a good alternate captain. Behave and follow the rules and be a good example off the ice. Leadership saw something in him to give him the A in the first place, now’s his chance to prove he respects them for it.

“Since when do you walk out without a speech?” Eddie calls after him when they’ve exited the building. This arena is relatively normal, but there’s a lower level of parking just for VIP. He doesn’t see anyone else yet, but that’s not surprising. Their bus is parked a few rows away, doors up to start loading equipment for the haul to the airport.

“Since there isn’t a damn thing I can say to get this team motivated and I’m done trying!” Steve yells back without turning. “If you’d like to try, go right ahead.”

“Doesn’t seem like something a captain would do.”

Steve freezes, turns.

His face is bright red and Eddie knows immediately he pushed too far.

“Maybe you should be the captain if you know so much about what it takes, hm? Maybe instead of passing me your stick to score you could score one once in a fucking while. Maybe,” Steve takes a shaky breath, exhales it right into Eddie’s face. He didn’t even notice how close he was before. “You could start acting like a leader and less like a fuckin’ nuisance.”

Eddie scoffs.

“I’m sorry I helped? Was I supposed to let the opportunity to score go? Would you rather have not tied the game? Do you wish we were going home for the summer instead of just the next few days?”

Steve’s chest is brushing against Eddie’s.

Neither of them showered, so there’s a faint scent of sweat clinging to his nostrils, but Steve must’ve freshened up with deodorant and cologne before getting changed. Cedar and pine overtakes the locker room smell as Eddie’s eyes dart down to Steve’s lips.

“Did you want me to do all the work for you?” Eddie grins.

It’s painful, when their lips crash together. Eddie doesn’t care.

Steve’s mad, he’s loud, and he tastes like victory. It has nothing to do with their game.

“C’mon,” Steve says against his lips, and Eddie isn’t sure exactly what he wants. They’re kissing in public, in a place that could be filled with their teammates any second. Steve’s hands are against his chest, pulling him impossibly closer by his shirt. “More. You want more out of me, take it.”

Eddie’s not always the smartest guy in the room. He’s, like, smart, but sometimes he misses some obvious shit. Unobservant, his uncle calls him.

But he can read people pretty well if he has a second to really see them and he thinks he’s seeing something Steve didn’t mean to show. He knows what Steve’s really asking and he knows he can give that to him.

“No.”

Steve stills. He pulls away, hurt clear on his face before he manages to school his features. It’s eery how quickly he was able to do it.

“Knew you weren’t up for it, anyways,” Steve mutters, but Eddie doesn’t let him walk away.

His grip on Steve’s wrist is tight enough to cut off circulation, tight enough to bruise. Steve doesn’t react at all.

“I’m not taking anything from you. You’re gonna take what you need from me.”

Steve’s brows furrow, and Eddie allows himself a moment— just one— to think that he’s cute like this. If they weren’t teammates, and if Eddie could stand him for more than a few minutes at a time, maybe they could do something.

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks. “I don’t need anything from you.”

“No? Like how you didn’t need my stick to score earlier?”

Steve’s mouth snaps closed, but Eddie doesn’t feel as smug as he normally would. He can hear voices coming and he knows that if they leave here now without something worked out, it’ll be like none of this ever happened.

“When we get back, come to my place,” Eddie orders.

“And if I don’t?”

Eddie laughs.

Steve likes to win. He’s gonna come just to see what his prize will be.

He boards the bus and ignores his half-hard dick in his slacks.

Steve always finds a way into his brain. And now he’s found a way into his bed.

~~~~~

The bus ride is quiet, but most of the guys are busy texting significant others and coming down from the adrenaline of the game. The flight is silent, everyone taking a power nap before they have to get back home. They’ll have a day off tomorrow, but most of these guys are married and have kids, or fiancées who haven’t quite figured out that a day off is needed for recovery, not for filling the calendar with other events.

Steve is far away from Eddie, barely even visible unless Eddie leans into the aisle and squints.

He doesn’t do that more than once, doesn’t wanna draw attention to whatever it is that’s happening between them.

Eddie is the first off the plane, but he walks slow enough to his car that a few teammates catch up and tell him his quick reaction saved their asses. He laughs and thanks them, tells them they’ve got some work to do if they’re gonna win the first round, and gets in his car.

Somehow, Steve’s already at his door when he gets home.

“Eager?” Eddie asks.

“You tell me,” Steve grabs Eddie’s hand and places it over his crotch. He’s already hard.

“Did you touch yourself on the way here?” Eddie feels like he’s been struck by lightning, energy zapping through him at the speed of light. Realizing Steve’s into this is rewiring his brain.

“Obviously,” Steve rolls his eyes.

Eddie unlocks his door and pushes Steve inside. He pushes him down the hall and right onto the bed. He pushes until Steve pushes back.

“I thought I was taking from you,” Steve says as he sits up, taking his shirt off and throwing it to the ground.

“You are. But only when I’m ready to give. I need a second,” Eddie says as he strips his own shirt off. He walks to his bathroom to throw some water on his face and pretend for a second that the sweat dripping down his spine isn’t a ridiculous reaction to Steve.

“It’s been a second!” Steve calls to him.

Eddie smirks at himself in the mirror before heading back to the bed.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. I assume you’ve got something specific in mind?”

Steve eyes him up and down. “Take everything off.”

Eddie does as he says. Steve’s surprise that he didn’t argue is obvious.

“Get lube and condoms.”

Eddie reaches into his bedside drawer and gets out his unopened bottle of lube and the only three condoms he has that may or may not be expired. He doesn’t have time to fuck around much, and most of the time he does, it never gets far enough to need a condom.

His traitorous stomach swoops at the thought of Steve being inside him.

Steve looks at him like he’s starving and Eddie’s a five course meal on a table in front of him, and Eddie likes it. He likes that Steve wants to devour him.

He’s pulled into a bruising kiss, can taste blood on his tongue when he swallows spit that’s just as much Steve’s as his own. Eddie knows if they kiss like this for long enough, Steve will barely have to touch him at all to get him there.

As if reading his mind, Steve’s hand is on his dick, stroking it slow enough to drive him insane. Eddie blushes, but doesn’t let it hold him back from pushing Steve more.

“You gonna take your clothes off or are the lube and condoms just for decoration?”

Any hand is better than his own, but Steve’s hand might be the death of him. He tightens his grip around him, leaning in to bite Eddie’s collarbone.

He’s sensitive there and somehow Steve knows it, and Eddie might die tonight, but he can’t let Steve know he’s making him feel this fucking good. He wants Steve to take what he wants, but he doesn’t wanna give it easily.

“You like this with everyone or am I special?” Steve asks before he licks a stripe up Eddie’s neck.

It’s gross. It’s hot as fuck. Eddie’s lightheaded.

“Just you, sugar. Or should I call you Captain here, too?”

Steve pulls back like he’s been burned.

“I’m not your captain right now.” He’s glaring at Eddie, making him wish he could shrink into the mattress, down through the floor. “I’m Steve. Got it?”

“Got it,” Eddie’s nodding along, but he feels like he’s teetering into uncharted territory, some kind of rough terrain that most people don’t get past the fence to explore.

Steve starts taking and Eddie lets him.

First, it’s rough hands pushing him around until he’s in the position Steve wants him: face down, arms under the pillows, legs spread so Steve can see him.

Then, it’s teasing touches, laughing when Eddie gasps and moans, nipping at his skin after a soft brush of his fingers.

It’s hot and cold, it’s hard and soft, it’s push and pull.

It’s the first time Eddie feels like he understands who Steve is.

The lube is cold as Steve spreads it around his entrance, more teasing, more taking. Eddie doesn’t mind. He’s always loved the build-up as much as the finale.

Steve’s quiet, focused, as he works his fingers into him. He’s meticulous about it, looking for the best reactions.

When Eddie whines into the pillow, spreading his legs further apart to make more room for whatever Steve wants from him, he realizes that this will change everything. He should’ve realized it sooner. He may regret it tomorrow. He may not.

“You ready?” Steve asks.

Eddie feels empty. Steve’s fingers aren’t there anymore, aren’t stretching him and prodding every sensitive part of him. He whimpers pitifully at the loss.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Steve’s cock is pushing against his entrance, and Eddie thinks he was severely mistaken about Steve before.

Because why is Steve being gentle? Why is his hand rubbing Eddie’s spine as he pushes into him slowly? Why are his lips against Eddie’s shoulder, not kissing so much as resting there, his hot breath a comfort that he’s right there paying attention to everything Eddie’s doing?

Why is this the best Eddie’s ever been fucked and why does it feel less like getting fucked and more like making love with every passing moment?

Steve’s big, which Eddie knew already. There’s just a difference between seeing it and feeling it. He fills him up, makes him wonder if he’ll be sore tomorrow.

Kind of hopes he will be.

“Take it,” Eddie mumbles against the pillow.

Steve grabs his hair, strong grip, but gently pulling. “What?”

“Take me.”

Eddie’s not sure where those words come from, but he feels the way Steve responds. His cock twitches inside him, his hands grip his waist harder, and Steve moans against his shoulder.

His own cock is trapped against the sheets, but it’s fine. He’s in no rush. Steve will take what he wants and Eddie will wait. He’ll wait all night if he has to.

He feels good like this, at Steve’s mercy.

He didn’t think he’d be able to relax under him. He thought the fight he always has to assert his own dominance with Steve would carry over here, too.

But it’s easy to let Steve have this.

He knows that Steve needs this just as much as Eddie needs to be used.

“You’re quiet. Everything okay?” Steve whispers against his skin. A check-in to make sure Eddie doesn’t need to stop.

“I’m good. Feels good. Keep going.”

The softness never goes away, but Steve’s moving faster, breathing heavier, putting more weight on Eddie’s back. It’s almost too much, the pressure inside him, surrounding him. The scent of Steve, the scent of both of them mingling together and staining his bedsheets.

He’ll have to wash them tomorrow. He won’t.

“God,” Eddie says as he fists the pillow under his head. “Right there.”

Steve’s nailing his prostate, almost more than he can handle. It feels like when they reach their groove on the ice, like despite their disagreements and different styles of play, they’ve meshed together for this moment to make something happen.

“Yeah? You like letting me have you like this?” Steve asks.

It feels out of place here, but Eddie’s allowing it all. If this is what Steve needs, if this will help, then he’ll let Steve have everything.

“Mhm. C’mon, want you to come,” Eddie begs.

He doesn’t want this to be over, though. He finds it shocking how much he wants Steve to keep fucking into him for hours, finding new positions and ways to make Eddie question his existence. He wishes Steve wasn’t wearing a condom, wishes he could fill him up with his cum, plug him up so he stays filled until morning.

He doesn’t know why he’s thinking these things. He’s never wanted that with anyone, let alone Steve.

Steve’s hand covers the back of his neck, applies just enough pressure that Eddie knows it would be hard to move.

He’s coming before he even realizes the tug in his belly is there, moaning into the pillow as Steve’s hips meet his ass with every thrust. It’s too much, but Eddie’s giving himself.

That’s all this is.

It’s everything now, but tomorrow it’ll be nothing.

And the day after that, when they have team meetings to review tape for their first round matchup, it’ll be even less than nothing. It’ll be like nothing ever happened and Eddie never let Steve fuck him into his mattress. It’ll be back to tolerating each other for their job, and Eddie poking at him until Steve is riled up and the coach is yelling at both of them to get their shit together.

And then when they inevitably lose in the first round, they’ll go all summer without speaking and Eddie may get traded to a team that will put up with his antics.

Eddie sniffles.

“Eddie? Shit.” Steve pulls out, which is wrong and terrible and not at all what he wants. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Was it too much?”

“No,” Eddie’s voice is shaking and he feels stupid. How did this happen? How did he get to this point? Over Steve Harrington? “Sorry, I’m okay.”

“You’re clearly not okay.” Steve turns him over so he’s on his back and that makes everything so much worse.

His release is sticky across his stomach and the head of his cock, and he’s flush from his cheeks to his toes. Tears have fallen, leaving tracks down his face.

He doesn’t paint a pretty picture.

“What’s this about?”

“I didn’t expect this,” Eddie admits.

It can’t hurt. Honesty is only a small vulnerability compared to letting a man fuck you.

“Expect what?”

“This. You to be soft and caring. You don’t even fucking like me. I thought you’d be quick, come on my back, and then find a reason to leave,” Eddie says, covering his face with his hands. It sounds even dumber out loud. Jesus.

“The thought did occur to me,” Steve says.

Eddie peeks through his fingers to see Steve smiling with an eyebrow raised.

“What the fuck is happening.”

Steve snorts. “You threw me your stick during the play so I could score the goal that sealed us a shot at the Cup. I’ve been hard for, like, six hours now, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude while you’re staring at my dick!” Eddie argues.

“You annoy the shit out of me,” Steve rolls his eyes. “More than anyone else I’ve ever played with.”

“Okay. My dick’s already soft, you don’t have to talk me down, Steve,” Eddie groans, covering his face again.

Steve pulls his hands away, laces their fingers together, squeezes. Eddie’s stomach flutters.

“But you’re good. And you know you’re good. That’s why you’re as frustrated as I am about how this season’s been. It has fuck all to do with me being captain, and everything to do with nothing going right for us.”

Steve’s right. He’s always right, even though Eddie rarely acknowledges it.

“Does this kind of talk get you off or should I do something for you?” Eddie tries to joke, to push.

But Steve doesn’t push back this time.

He cups Eddie’s jaw and leans in, kisses him soft, so gentle it feels like a whisper of something Eddie’s absolutely terrified to name.

“Let me take a little more,” Steve says against his lips.

He lifts Eddie’s legs and slides back into him, and Eddie moans at the overstimulation. He’s definitely gonna be sore when he wakes up, but he doesn’t mind so much right now.

“That’s it,” Steve groans as he moves in and out, holding Eddie’s legs apart so he can make sure he gets as deep as possible. “Let me have it.”

Eddie’s never come twice like this, without his cock even being touched properly. But here he is, barely even hard again, and cum is leaking onto his stomach as he whimpers his way through another orgasm.

“Fuck, so good.” Steve’s hips stutter as he tenses his hands around Eddie’s thighs. “That’s it, baby. Let me fill you up.”

It’s not real, but for a second Eddie can picture it. He pretends he can feel it inside him, and his cock twitches, but otherwise doesn’t act like it can do anything else tonight.

Steve lets his legs drop as he pulls out, and Eddie winces at the feeling of emptiness it brings.

Eddie closes his eyes, tries to figure out how he’s gonna ask Steve to stay.

“Is it okay if I stick around?” Steve asks before he can think of something.

“Yeah, of course. Shower’s all yours if you want it,” Eddie offers, sounding breathless still. His heart is pounding in his chest and he feels like the world around him is spinning.

“You wanna join?” Steve asks him, seriously.

“Showering together doesn’t seem like a teammate thing to do,” Eddie replies.

“Neither is watching a teammate come twice.”

“Point made.” Eddie groans as he turns on his side, reaching a hand out until he makes contact with skin. He thinks it’s Steve's thigh, but he can’t be sure with his eyes closed. “Go on without me. I can’t feel my legs or my…anything.”

Steve doesn’t get up, and he doesn’t say anything. After at least a minute of silence, Eddie blinks his eyes open to see Steve staring at him.

“Are you gonna be fucking creepy all night? I rescind my permission to stay if you are.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, it’s just. I’ve seen you mostly naked so many times, but I never noticed this scar.”

Steve gently brushes a finger across the scar on Eddie’s abdomen. It’s barely an inch in length, and you can’t even see it unless the light hits it just right.

Eddie looks down at it, at the way Steve’s fingertips graze the outer edges. He doesn’t think about it much anymore, but he remembers when it happened.

“Junior hockey. Kid’s skate got me just as I was falling. My chestie rose up too high and didn’t protect the spot,” Eddie shrugs. It could’ve been a lot worse. He was back on the ice within three days. “Accidents happen.”

Eddie watches Steve’s face morph from curious to confused and then shocked.

“That was you?” Steve asks.

“What do you mean?” Eddie leans up on an elbow, looks back at Steve as if he’s lost his mind.

“I…holy shit. They never told me the player’s name. Just said he was getting stitches in the locker room and would be fine,” Steve is rambling, gesturing wildly and shaking his head. “They wouldn’t let me check on you. I tried as soon as the game was over.”

“I’m still confused.”

“It was my skate. I tripped over a player’s stick as you were falling. I didn’t even realize it actually hit you until I saw the blood on the ice.” Steve scoots down so he’s eye level with the scar and then he does something that changes Eddie’s DNA.

He presses his mouth to the scar, his lips parting just enough for his hot breath to cause goosebumps to break out across Eddie’s skin.

“Why did you give me your stick?” Steve whispers.

Eddie swallows. He feels heavy, weighed down by whatever this is.

“You had a chance. You just needed a stick,” he whispers back.

“Eddie. You would rather lose than help me any other time.” Steve tilts his head to look up at Eddie. “Why did you pass me your stick?”

“I-” Eddie breathes in. “I wanted to do something right. I wanted you to look at me and not see someone failing for once. I wanted to be good enough to wear the A.”

Steve’s forehead drops to his hip, and it takes a moment for Eddie to realize he’s laughing.

“What’s funny about that?” Eddie’s ready to pull away, kind of wants to make Steve leave now that he’s feeling like he’s being made fun of.

“I just cannot believe that you would think you aren’t good enough.” Steve looks back up at him, grinning, eyes shining with amusement. “Who do you think chose you for the A?”

Eddie thinks about it. He always assumed that the coaches just picked the guy with the most NHL experience out of the few options they had. He never thought he’d be A or C material professionally, so he accepted the offer, grateful to be given the chance.

He felt like an idiot for wasting the opportunity this season.

He didn’t produce the way he knows he can, and he let his stupid jealousy of Steve get in the way of everything. It’s not like he wanted the responsibility of being captain. He knows now he probably isn’t cut out for any type of leadership role with the team.

“I thought the coaches?” Eddie frames it as a question because now he isn’t sure.

“They wanted to name Hagan. I suggested you instead.”

Eddie’s breath catches. “You suggested me? Why? You fucking hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Steve raises a brow and gestures at their current state. “I don’t sleep with people I hate.”

“I thought it was spur of the moment! Like you were so mad at me that the only thing you could do to get it out of your system was fuck me!”

Eddie’s head is spinning.

“I mean, it was spur of the moment. I never had any intentions of acting on anything I felt for you.”

Eddie’s head is going to explode.

“Harrington. You’re really making my head hurt. Like, I have never felt this confused after getting fucked.”

Steve laughs, which doesn’t help anything. It almost makes it worse.

He crawls back up so he’s only inches from kissing Eddie.

“I chose you. They said I had to pick someone who would compliment me on and off the ice and you were the first and only choice I could make. You’re an incredible player and the only defenseman I trust on this fucking roster,” Steve leans his head forward, resting his forehead against Eddie’s. “If I’m annoyed with you, it’s because I’m annoyed at myself. I’m making your job harder by losing the room. I don’t even know how it happened.”

“You haven’t lost the room,” Eddie interrupts, placing his hand on Steve’s hip. “They love you. You’re the hero.”

“I don’t wanna be the only guy who comes through, though. I want everyone to succeed.”

“They will. It’s just not our year. It happens. We started off bad and we never got back on track.”

Steve huffs out a breath. “It’s my job to make it work.”

“It’s everyone’s job to make it work. You can’t do it by yourself. They don’t hand Stanley Cups to a player, they hand them to a team.”

Steve smirks. “They do hand them to a player first, though.”

Eddie smacks him. “Don’t argue with me. I’ve had my brains fucked out of my head.”

They stare at each other, both of them smiling fondly.

It’s such a stark difference to everything they’ve been this whole season. Eddie doesn’t know how to handle the electricity between them. He thought it would fade once they were done, once Steve cleaned up and they got dressed. In the morning, he’d leave, and they’d go back to being a mediocre team and he’d probably end up traded or losing the A.

But now, he’s looking at Steve with something he’s pretty sure is affection, maybe even love. It’s ridiculous, which is why he isn’t gonna say anything.

“So, are we good?” Steve asks.

It’s such a jock thing to say. It throws Eddie off yet again.

“Um. Yeah.” He pulls away slightly, considers turning around and getting under the blankets. “We’re good. Hit the showers or whatever.”

“Can I kiss you again?”

Eddie has got to figure out how to get a read on this guy. Seriously, the whiplash he’s getting from Steve’s words and actions might break his neck.

“You want to?”

“I don’t kiss people I don’t want to kiss.”

“Alright, then.”

It’s so soft, it practically melts what little brain Eddie has left. He’s not sure he’s ever been kissed like this, like he’s precious and like this moment needs to be cherished.

“Are you still gonna be a bitch?” Eddie ruins it.

Or, he thinks he does. But Steve is just smiling at him, amused, like he wants nothing more than Eddie’s attitude.

“Depends on if you’re gonna keep giving me problems.”

“Oh, so this is like a thing for you.”

“What?”

“You like disciplining me. Oh, this will be so fun.”

Steve shakes his head and falls against the pillows. Eddie turns his own head to smile at him.

“You didn’t answer me,” he says after a minute of just watching Steve exist in his bed.

“You answered yourself.”

“You’re irritating.”

“So are you.”

“It’s not a competition.”

“Everything is a competition,” Steve turns his head to look at Eddie, smirking. “And I’m winning.”

“We’ll see about that.”

[ranpazz]

CHOKE ME BITE ME!!

cw ; sub!dazai, fem!reader, choking, p in v sex, unprotected sex (stay safe), slight degradation(she calls him a freak and a slut), not proofread

a/n ; no I didn't write this to distract from wicked games idk what ur talking abt.

Dazai hates pain. At least that's what he tells everyone, but you knew otherwise. Well, if the way he was writhing with your hand around his throat had anything to do with it.

“mmfph! Baby I– hngh– need more– c’mon, please-” he begged, bucking his hips up into your sweet cunt, desperate for more friction that you refused to offer. You clicked your tongue, applying more pressure to his throat, cutting off his oxygen.

“You're a freak, Osamu– getting off to this?” You questioned, emphasizing your point by wrapping your other hand around his pretty neck. His cock twitched against your cervix at the action, tossing his head back with a choked moan. “Yes– please– haah– I need more, please move–”

You'd be lying if you said that having a man like Dazai plead beneath you didn't flip a switch. A satisfied hum bubbled in the back of your throat as you raised your hips enough to his tip before slamming down on him.

“Aargh! Fuck! Don't– don't stop, please-” He cried, his jaw clenching from pleasure. You wish you had your phone to take a picture, he looked breathtaking. His eyes were rolled to the back of his head, hair matted to his forehead, and your lipstick smeared all over his lips. Maybe another time.

“Don't you– fuck– dare cum ‘til I say so, y'damn slut.” You breathed, chasing your release as the coil in your tummy tightened. His hands were holding onto your hips for dear life, there will definitely be marks there tomorrow. You could feel his Adam's apple bob beneath your fingers, a reminder of your previous actions.

Dazai whined for another minute or so, his rambles coming to an end. He was trying not to give away the fact his orgasm was creeping up on him. You could have laughed if he wasn't rearranging your guts right now. However, he still needed too–

“Please, lemme cum– needa– fuuuck– cum inside you, baby–” How could you resist when he asked so nicely? You swallowed thickly as you grew closer to the edge, giving him a brief nod before sinking your teeth into his pale shoulder and grasping his neck tighter than before.

He planted his feet on the bed, thrusting up into you to meet your hips, tearing a moan from your throat. His length slid against your gooey walls, hitting your sweet spots with easy precision. "'samu–! 'm gonna cum– fuck!"

"F-fuck, feels s'good– y'er pussy– haah– feels s'good, so tight, shit!" He cried out, your back arching as his thumb found your clit and drew tight circles on the bud. Your back arched, a broken moan slipping past your lips. "C'mon, cum with me– hnngh– please-"

He always ended up getting his way. It wasn't even a minute later that he was filling your cunt with his hot load, his own orgasm triggering your own. "Osamu– haah fuck!" Your hands finally freed his throat and your jaw fell slack as you reached your release.

Black spots clouded your vision for a moment before you fell limp on his chest, panting heavily as the afterglow settled. His breathing could be heard over your own, a telltale of his need for oxygen. You glanced up at him, his cheeks red and eyes closed as he caught his breath.

"'samu, I didn't–" "No, you didn't go overboard, 'donna." He cut you off, his voice a bit hoarse from your precious endeavors. Those pretty brown eyes of his fluttered open, meeting yours with a soft yet rare look. "I promise."

You took the reassurance with a smile, however, you were suddenly flipped over by Dazai, a hungry look in his eyes. "Now, let's see how much power you have with me on top this time."

[fandomfluffandfuck]

I cannot--can fucking not--for the life of me stop thinking about this 😫 So, I hope you don't mind me cutting in with thoughts of sparring-turned-fucking 😏😏

If there weren't thick--fuckin' huge--thighs clenched around his blushing face, squeezing until the pressure gets so much Steve's crazily half convinced his head will burst open like a watermelon crushed between his muscular legs, if his heart wasn't thundering in his madly heaving chest, rising and falling so fast it's got his muscles on the delicious edge of cramping, painful but not, good, it's good, if his hot, fever-thick blood wasn't pulsing through his burning, ringing ears so loudly, if all that salacious lust wasn't distracting him so entirely thoroughly, getting him stupid, then, and only then, Steve's pretty sure he'd be able to hear his own body sizzling like an egg in a pan. Hotter than the sidewalks in the height of Brooklyn summer.

Steve's fuckin' frying, crisp and crackling, in his own sweat--swimming in a shallow pool of his own sweat where it's collected against the matted floors of the gym. It's goddamn cooking him. All this exerted sweat down his back, beneath his ass, and even wetting his legs. He can't squirm all that much with the heavy weight of his lover on top of him--he's too fucking big and broad and heavy, flattening him easily to the floor like no one else can--but Steve can squirm just enough to know how fucking wet he is. Slipping, nearly sliding. Sweating. Melting.

Melting.

A desperate, hoarse moan tries to squeeze out of Steve's throat, but it can't. The noise can't get out with his throat so fuckin' filled up, so it just rattles around in his rapidly expanding and contracting chest. He's fighting to breathe already, and the moans wanting to come barreling out of him push his burning lungs that much farther, building more pressure. He's gonna break.

He's gonna fucking break.

But he wants it.

With as much strength as he can muster after having it all bled from him, sparring with Bucky--their strength from the serum mostly on par, except for the part where Bucky was bigger than him before so of course he's bigger than him after too, shot up to 6'8" and too muscular and meaty for Steve not to go cross-eyed just looking at him, the fucking brick shit house that he is now--Steve pushes his chin up the little bit he can, sliding more in his sizzling puddle of sweat, and taking just a few millimeters more of Bucky's thick, engorged cock where it's shoved hotly between his lips and down his throat. Steve swallows and swallows and groans with his entire heaving chest, working him deeper into his throat. Just a little. Just enough. He's so fucking greedy. He's squished and flattened, and he still wants more. His most coherent excuse is that it's Bucky, of course, he can't help himself. It's Bucky.

And, Jesus, his nose is smashed up against his huge fucking body, and it makes it even harder to breathe, trapping more of his moans and needy, animal whimpers inside his body, but he doesn't care.

He doesn't care that he's being fucking strangled and choked and perversely overpowered on the communal gym floor. He just wants it. He wants and needs this--Bucky's cock hammered deep into his throat and his thighs squeezing any intelligence right out of his head, all of his weight sitting on top of him, holding him down easily, leisurely, as if it's nothing. It's everything for Steve. Yes. Yes! Please! If he could breathe, he'd be moaning for it; if he could talk, he'd be screaming for it.

With his mouth and throat getting so thoroughly used for everything but talking, the best Steve can do is grasp weakly at Bucky's legs, curled up on either side of his face. His hands are trembling, and the breadth of his fingers and palm aren't big enough to get all of him in his hold. He scrambles to get a grip, groping around and shaking harder. His fuckin' thighs. Jesus wept. This is how Steve wants to go. Suffocated by thick, firm thighs, choking on cock, dying, just, dying, impossibly frantic in his need to get Bucky off while Bucky doesn't seem to care one way or the other.

He's frantic and feverish and Bucky is relaxed as he could be, sliding his rock-hard cock in and out of his lips at whatever pace he sees fit, just enjoying the heat of his burning body and the vibrating, cut-off moans that echo through him and the slick, tight velvet of his mouth and throat.

Tiny.

Steve's head spins faster and faster, dimly thinking of the picture they make--if anyone were to walk in and see them like this. Steve normally imposing, now crushed and flattened underneath his tank of a boyfriend, hardly surviving it in the best way. Steve's cock straining his sweatpants, untouched and pathetic, whereas Bucky's cock is shoved deep and kept safe inside Steve's throat. Bucky's got his sweats and jockstrap shoved down, exposing his heavy balls and cock, unashamed, hairy and virile. His tanktop is shoved up, too, displaying his robust, thick middle, his abs not so sharply defined but juicy. Steve shaking and losing it, jerking where he can beneath Bucky's weight but Bucky's easy rhythm fucking his hips slowly forward and dragging them back smoothly. Bucky's hands don't twitch or quiver or shake as they card through Steve's chick-yellow hair, messing it up on purpose, even more purposefully showing Steve how fucking small he is.

His hands are so big, cradling his head and overwhelming him. His hands. But his arms, too. His arms are even fucking bigger than his hands and--guh.

Steve can't think.

Bucky is fuckin' fucking his throat, holding his head exactly where he wants it so he can stare down at Steve, smirking, all cocky and shit, and take in his glassy blue eyes, rimmed red, the tears just fucked right outta him helplessly.

Jesus Christ.

Steve's gasping, he's crying, too, just by sheer force of the thick, hot intrusion of Bucky's cock into his throat, stretching him open, raw, making his eyes water. His chest is heaving harder and harder now. Fuck. His back is stuck to the sweaty mats underneath him, and despite the weight in top of him, when he involuntarily squirms more, he literally slips and slides in his own sweat. He can feel the rivers of it running down his back, dripping onto the floor, pooling in the dimples at the back of his arched spine, and slipping between the curves of his backside.

"Fuck yeah," somewhere overtop of him, Bucky's pleased voice rattles in his huge fucking chest.

Steve rattles, too, shivering hard. He can barely focus on the sound of his voice. There's just so much fucking going on. The electric charge of pleasure like static through every vein and artery in his body, electrocuting him.

"Take it, jus' take it," Bucky rumbles, all Brooklyn as he uses that fuckin' charm to encourage torture him, "yeahh, that's it dollface. Aw, look at that," Bucky combs his hair back with his mitts, tugging until Steve's neck twinges from the stretch of the angle, arched so intensely, "you cryin'? You cryin', honey?"

Steve can't help but sob, chest shuddering, almost shattering.

And Bucky is just a shark smelling blood, immediately tearing into his teasing rampage, "it too much for you?" He asks but doesn't give Steve time to answer. "I wouldn't've ever thought that with your cocksuckin' lips," he reaches out, brazenly tracing Steve's glossy, swollen, red lips where they're stretched achingly around his fat cock. He clicks his tongue,"tsk tsk. 'M I stretchin' you out too wide?"

Steve's best answer is to try and suck harder, use more of his tongue, and hum a little--make it good--but that doesn't really work when he's so fucking perfectly powerless, shoved down with his cock shoved hard into him. Being used. He can't do much but be a good, tight, hot hole for his lover by lying there and letting him do whatever he wants, eyes rolling back into his head from how rough he gets with his body.

"Your poor little throat! Oh no, baby," he coos yet grins like a wolf with the knowledge of what a fuckin' tease he's being. "I bet a lil floozy like you never thought you'd meet a cock you couldn't take--"

Steve's dying. The way he talks down to him. Fuuuuck.

"--Never thought you'd get one that splits you open until you're shakin' and thinkin' you're gonna break in half." Bucky chuckles, low and dangerous, leaning in to cut through him, "yeah, yeah," he agrees with himself, reaching back just to slap Steve's flank like he's a pony, "who's your daddy?"

Instinctively, Steve's whole body convulse, knowing its place, his back bowing into a painful arch, his head falling back, his eyes rolling, and just--

Jesus fuck.

He's gonna cum.

cannot stop thinking about an AU where Bucky gets the same treatment as Steve (ie. serumed and vitarayed.)

So he shoots up to 6' 8" or something ridiculous and is built like a brick shithouse. To everyone else he's almost Too Big, but to Steve it's just like being small again while Bucky is ...Large, and Steve is permanently flustered about it. 😳🥺

[starkeynation]

New Year’s Day

Content : Based on the song New Year’s Day by Taylor Swift, fluff

Masterlist

Dividers from @rafeyscurtainbangs

There’s glitter on the floor after the party, girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby, candle wax and polaroids on the hardwood floor, and there’s you and Rafe from the night before.

It’s 2025, marking five years of you and Rafe being together. Together, both of you hosted yet another epic New Year’s Eve party at Tannyhill. Most people already left, leaving behind the core group. Sarah is helping cleaning the kitchen, John b, picking up the trash across the lawn, JJ, passed out on the couch. And in the living room, you and the king of your heart, cleaning up the bottles on New Year’s day.

As you toss the empty bottles and cups in the trash bag, you couldn’t help but stare at Rafe. Looking at his beautiful tall figure, it hits you how far both of you have come along. Five years together, filled with highs and lows- a wild rollercoaster ride, but you can tell there’s still gonna be a long road ahead.

You also know you have so much love to give to him. You don’t know if it’s even possible to love someone this much. Whether he’s the toast of the town or he stikes out and crawling home, you know you’ll be there, by his side, forever.

You want every version of him, his worst, his midnight, his hard time, his mistakes. But most of all, you want to witness his resilience, his kindness, his passion and his brightest moments. These precious memories, you’ll hold on and cherish them forever, hoping they will hold on to you just as tightly.

Suddenly, Rafe’s laugh pulls you from your reverie. As he picks up a polaroid from the floor, “Baby, come here, look at this picture of us,” he says, his smile wide and his eyes glued to the piece of film.

Instead of looking at the picture, you walk up to him and wrap your arms around his neck. The polaroid slips from his fingers as your lip find his. He place his hand on your waist and returns the kiss. The kiss is passionate, igniting something new, a perfect start of the year ahead.

As you break the kiss, you cut him off before he could say anything, “please dont ever become a stranger whose laugh i could recognize anywhere,” you whisper, your voice soft laced with devotion.

Without hesitation, he squeeze your hands three times before he pulls you in for a hug. The hug is comforting and feels like home. As he’s holding on to you, “Never,” he murmurs, his voice steady and filled with promise. “I love you,” he continues.

Out of a sudden, a loud thud disturb the moment. Both of you jolt, break the hug, turning to the direction where the sounds come from. It’s JJ who’s just fallen off from the couch, still very much unconscious.

You and Rafe let out a soft giggle. Shaking your head in disbelief, you press your forehead against his chest. He then cups your face, tilting it upward until your eyes meet. As he stares at your doe brown eyes, he caresses your cheek and says, “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year,” you reply.

A/N: A short one coz I wrote this in less than two hours! Finally a cute story instead of breaking yall hearts😋And yes! JJ is alive in 2025!!!

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

“𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘” #𝟚

𝚃𝚠𝚒𝚗 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝙵𝚒𝚌

𝚂𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚞𝚝

𝕀𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟'𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟜 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜 🩷

Main Story

Warning: threesome, angst, kissing, swearing, praise, pet names, make up sex, wet and mess, nipple play, fingering, oral sex (male + female receiving, thigh riding, choking, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, owner ship kink, rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, cum tasting, sucking fingers, fingering, unprotected p in v, anal, overstim., squirting, teasing, and degradation

❕❕𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚡 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚣𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙸𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗❕❕

Reader’s POV:

“You’re goin’? I thought we talked about this?” Rafe asks breathlessly.

“Talked about what?” You ask as you look at Cam, then Rafe.

“You said you loved her, Cam,” Rafe chides.

“I fuckin’ do, Rafe. You know I do…”

“Then where the hell are you goin’?” Rafe asks.

“Hearin’ all the shit I did, it’s-”

“Do you want him here?” Rafe cuts in, looking you in the eyes. You take a little breath, lips tugging to the side, nodding ‘yes.’”

“Baby…” He whispers, needing words.

“I want you here,” you breathe through trembling lips. “Please don't go.”

Cam bites his lips, brows pulling together as he tries to regain his emotions.

“We didn’t want you to feel like you had to choose,” Rafe says softly, pulling your attention back to him. “We’ve already wasted all this time tryin’ to figure our shit out, and I don’t want to lose you. I love you. And I’m not asking you to give anything up. No ultimatums.”

“Wh-What does that mean?” You ask uneasily, feeling like you did when Rafe asked to share you the first time.

“You’d be with me,” Rafe smiles softly, relishing those words as he looks down at you. “You and I… Just like before. And, Cam, you can talk to him whenever you’d like, with or without me, hang out, go on dates and shit, fuck. I don’t fuckin’ care as long as I can call you mine.”

“Are you sure?” You ask Rafe, unsure if you're even hearing him correctly given everything that happened.

Rafe exhales deeply, his expression softening as he looks down at you. “Yeah. I don’t know what to call it. I’m no good with this shit. S’just, you, baby. You’re my girl…” Rafe voice gets caught in his throat. He swallows hard before trying again. “I’d do anything for you. I want you in my life forever. I know you and Cam have somethin’ special. I don’t fuckin’ get it…” He laughs weakly, through his emotion as Cam returns the same. “M’not sayin’ it’s gonna be easy. But these past few weeks have been hell… I would rather work through this than be without you. I need you in my life, princess. I know what I want, and if this is the only way to keep you, then so be it.”

“I don’t expect anything from you, sweetheart. We don’t have to put a label on us. This is enough. And I won’t get in the way, I swear.” Cam stuffs his hands in his suit pockets, looking back at you from the other side of the suite before walking toward you again. “I’ll respect you and Rafe’s space—I’ll be grateful for anything you can give me. I don’t want to lose you either.”

Your chest tightens at his words as they all start to sink in. It seemed too good to be true.

“Just to be clear, if this were anyone else, they’d be fuckin’ dead,” Rafe mumbles, seeing the worry painted all over your face. “I know how much he wants to be with you, and I can’t take that from him or you.”

Cam nods, his gaze never leaving yours. “I want to be with you, sweetheart.”

“I wanna be with you too,” you smile weakly as you look at Rafe, “both of you… I just-”

“You think it’ll go up in flames like last time?” Rafe asks. “I don’t blame you for doubtin’ me, princess. But I promise, this time, it’s fine. We got you. Okay?” You look up at him, still in disbelief, your bottom lip wobbling as you try to keep it together. “Co’mere,” he chuckles softly as he pulls you in for a hug, lips pressing against your forehead. “You’re okay—I swear, pretty girl. Aight? Fuckin’ promise you. We’re gonna take care of you.”

“Okay,” you whisper, your voice muffled slightly against his muscular chest.

“Does this sound like somethin’ you want, princess?” Rafe asks as he holds you close.

“Yes,” you whisper. Rafe lets you go, and Cam grabs you, tugging at your hand to pull you into his arms, lifting you off your feet in a hug as you bury yourself in his warm neck. “You love me?” Your voice comes out muffled against his skin.

“Of course I do,” he whispers back.

“I love you too.”

“Yeah?” He asks happily as he sets you down on your heels, and Rafe reaches for you before you can say anything anymore, stealing you back, grabbing your hand just like Cam did, but you jump into his arms, lips crashing against his. He smiles into your kiss, holding you tight. “I love you, baby,” you whisper against his lips.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he mumbles as his lips brush gently against yours. “Got you back…”

“You did,” you breathe as you scratch your nails into his hair, pressing gentle kisses against his lips and cheeks.

“N’you’re mine? You're my girlfriend?” He asks as he walks with you toward the bed.

“I’m your girlfriend, Rafe,” you smile. “And you’re my boyfriend?”

“I’m your fuckin’ boyfriend, sweetheart,” he groans before tossing you down on the bed, making you land with a bounce. You reach for him, pulling him down by his tie, kissing him hungrily. “Fuck, baby,” he grunts into your kiss as he grinds his body into yours, tongues tangling.

You watch out from the corner of your eye as Cam walks to the foot of the side of the bed, free of his suit jacket, pawing off his tie before popping open the buttons of his shirt.

You separate from Rafe’s lips, finishing the job for Cam as you open the last few buttons, lips pushing against his. “M’so glad you asked me to stay,” he whispers against your lips. “I don’t deserve you. I won’t lie to you anymore… I’ll tell you everything. Okay? Everything,” he pants as you pull his shirt off his broad shoulders.

Rafe moves behind your back, drawing down the zipper of your dress as he kisses along your shoulder, brushing the delicate straps off with his thumbs, letting the silky material fall to your feet. “Holy shit,” Rafe groans as he presses up into you, his rock-hard cock pushing against your ass. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, baby-”

“So perfect,” Cam mumbles between deep kisses, his voice heavy with longing. Rafe’s rough fingers unclasp your bra as you work on the button and zipper of Cam’s pants.

Rafe spins you around, pushing his lips against yours as his fingers play with the hem of your lace panties, snapping them against your hot skin, making you whimper against his soft lips. Rafe pulls them down, leaving you bare and the boys in their boxers as you all climb onto the bed.

They sit beside each other, their backs pressed against the headboard. Rafe tugs you right where he wants you–your wet pussy pressed against his thigh, close enough to Cam where he could pull you in for a kiss. And that’s exactly what he does; your tongue dances with Cam’s as you grind yourself on Rafe's muscular leg while he plays with your tits.

The kiss is rough and needy; Cam quickly controls the situation. Rafe pinches and rolls your nipples, making you moan into his brother’s mouth as little spurs of pleasure spark between your thighs. Rafe captures your nipple between his lips, sucking and biting–chuckling wickedly against your skin. “Holy fuck, you’re wet, sweetheart,” he hums as he grips you by the hair, pulling you off Cam’s lips and onto his.

You let out a moan against his mouth, Rafe taking the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, reeling with yours as you start to rut faster. Cam takes his chance to play with your tits, palming his cock through his boxers, but you push his hand aside, making him laugh sleazily as you do it for him. You wrap your fist around his thick dick, squeezing him, feeling the wet spot of precum gathered on the fabric.

Your stomach starts to coil, and your movements get more desperate by the second. Rafe grabs your hips, pushing you down, using his muscle to rock you, Rafe, sending you over the edge, making your pussy flutter around nothing.

“That’s our girl… Fuck, princess? Does that feel good? You want some more?” He asks.

“Yes,” you whimper, shaky breaths fleeing your kiss-swollen lips.

“You’re cumming all night, baby,” Cam hums as he pushes your hair back, kissing your neck. “Gotta lot of time we need to make up for.”

“That’s fuckin’ right,” Rafe hums, reaching around to slap your ass. “I’m gonna taste you, princess. You wanna taste him?” Rafe asks, soothing the sting with the palm of his hand.

“Yes, baby,” you whisper, kissing him tenderly.

“Well, aren’t I lucky, huh?” Cam mumbles hot against your ear. The two boys lay you down, tugging their boxers the rest of the way off. Your eyes darken, mouth-watering as you take in every inch of tight, tan skin, muscles to spare, their dicks achingly hard as they move a little closer. Rafe grabs your thighs in his big hands, pushing you open.

He flicks his tongue against your puffy clit, still sensitive from your first release. Rafe laps up your pussy, moaning into your cunt, burying his face in you, inhaling your scent. He starts to grind himself into the mattress, his fingers finding your bud, tongue swirling around your hole.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you cry out as he presses his tongue inside, tongue fucking you like you’ve been craving for weeks; the man chasing your second orgasm of the night, already thinking about the third as he works his cock against the bed, getting off on your taste at the moment.

You pout your lips in overstimulation; Cam takes the opportunity to slap his tip against your pillow lips. He traces his fat head against your mouth, spreading his precum all around your pout, watching with lidded eyes as you lick your lips clean, your eyes locked on his. “You look so pretty, baby–fuck, you look pretty with your cum on my lips,” he mumbles.

Rafe’s tongue glides up your slit, sucking down on your clit; fingers plunging inside you. Your mouth hangs open as he sucks down, curling and scissoring his fingers. Cam pushes his cock between your lips, making you moan at the weight of him on your tongue. You wrap your fingers around his thick base, stroking where your mouth won’t reach. Cam runs a line of spit down on his cock; your fist working over him fast, keeping time with Rafe’s fingers deep in your pussy.

“Fuck, baby…” Cam moans. “Just like that.”

Rafe could feel your body getting close to yet another release, pounding his digits into you roughly, his other hand holding onto your fleshy hip to keep you from moving as Cam starts to pump deeper into your mouth.

Your lashes flutter shut as Rafe hits your G-spot again and again. Cam reaches down, wrapping his big hand around your throat, making your eyes flash open. “Not yet, princess… I’m almost there, alright? You’re suckin’ me so fuckin’ good,” he praises, his voice husky and worn with pleasure. “Don’t cum… Not yet.”

Your eyes screw shut, trying to listen, stars dancing behind your eyes as you fight against your body, the pressure of your pleasure almost too much to handle. You cry out around his cock as tears slide down your hot cheeks, Cam’s hold on your neck growing tighter.

“Cum for us,” Cam grunts, quickly filling your mouth with his warm cum. You swallow it all as your body falls apart, quickly reaching for a gasping breath.

Rafe doesn’t let up pounding you with his fingers through your orgasm. Cam reaches down, slapping at your clit, making you wail pathetically, both brothers going at you nonstop ‘til you’re gushing around their fingers.

Rafe hums out a moan, licking up the sweetness between your thighs. He lifts his hands, and you quickly take his fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean. Cam leans down, kissing you deeply, tasting you on your tongue, groaning against your lips. “Just as sweet as I remember, princess,” he mumbles against your mouth.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” Rafe sighs, completely pussy drunk. He kisses your clit, making you whimper in sensitivity, fingernails scratching into his hair. You tug his hair by the root, pulling him to your lips; he crawls toward you, eyes raking up your body. He looks down at you underneath him, his eyes softening as he sees your face looking up at him: glossy lips and wet eyes, the sparkly R pendant clinging to your dewy skin.

Rafe bites his lips, scrunching his nose as he’s hit with a wave of emotion, just knowing you never took it off, even after everything.

“I love you more than anything, princess,” he whispers.

“I love you too,” you breathe as tears shimmer in your eyes. You blink them away, and he cups your cheeks, brushing them away with his thumbs. Rafe leans down, kissing you gently, and it feels like home.

“Are you ready for us, baby?” He asks against your lips.

“M’ready,” you whisper.

“Ready already?” He asks through a breathy laugh, teasing you playfully, trying to push through his feelings.

“Please, baby…”

Rafe looks away and smiles, doing his best to collect himself, absolutely elated at the moment, before turning his focus back to you. “Greedy girl can’t wait to be filled, huh?”

“I’m a slut for Cameron cock,” you sigh breathlessly, repeating those words he said in the shower before that first night–the night that changed everything. Rafe chuckles deeply, looking down at you with lust and love as he brushes your hair off your face.

“Have I told you you’re perfect,” he subsists, rolling you on top of him fast, making you gasp against his lips.

You rise on your knees as Rafe takes his cock in his big hand, pumping his dick a few times as he takes you in. “I get your pussy,” he smiles.

“Well, shit,” Cam smiles as he slaps your ass playfully. “Keep gettin’ lucky, don’t I?” He leans in, kissing you gently, lingering on your lips as Rafe runs his throbbing tip up and down your folds. “You’re gonna let me fuck your pussy later. Aren’t you?” Cam asks, making you smile against his lips.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Think we both knew the answer to that, buddy… Just a whore for us, aren’t you, princess?” Rafe hums as he wraps his big hands around your hips. Rafe biceps flex as he pulls you lower, guiding you to fall on his cock nice and slow. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he pinches his head off the pillow, feeling your warm wet cunt swallow him up. Rafe lifts you off of him, using his strength to move you up and down, playing with your pussy like a toy.

Rafe drops his hand, pressing his fingers against your clit, making you throw your head to the ceiling as Cam’s muscular body moves flush with your back. “Feels so good, baby,” you whimper as your body trembles. Cam cups your tits in his ringed hands, squeezing as you start to bounce on Rafe’s cock; the wet skin between you and Rafe sticking and smacking together.

“Again?” Rafe asks through a breathy laugh, acting like he’s surprised to see you seconds away from another orgasm.

“Rafe-”

Cam lowers his grip, grabs your waist, and helps you bounce up and down, your eyes squeezed shut. Rafe smiles up at you wickedly, playing with your clit.

“I’m–Fuck. I-” You ramble as your body surrenders to your release. Cam lets you go, and your hands come down, gripping Rafe’s chest for dear life as your head hangs between your shoulders, trying to get your feet under you. And just when you start to have a semblance of control, you feel Cam’s fingers press against your tight hole, pussy clamping around Rafe.

“Relax, doll,” Rafe coos, his eyes loving but his tone almost condescending. “You’re good n’ wet.” Crack. He slaps your thigh, making your bottom lip quiver as you look down at him. “You’re so beautiful like this, princess,” he praises as he cups your cheek, slipping his thumb between your lips. You suck on it for a second, your body utterly numb with pleasure.

Rafe hisses out a breath as you bite down on his finger when Cam pushes into your second hole; Rafe chuckles teasingly, taking his hand away, eyeing the bite marks left behind as Cam wraps his arms around you, burying himself in your neck, his cock nestled in your ass; Rafe still buried balls deep in your cunt.

“Relax, baby,” Cam whispers. “You okay?”

“Mmm… Mhmm,” you sigh as the pain subsides, your trembling hand resting on your lower stomach, feeling the outline of Rafe’s long, thick cock pressing against it. Rafe rubs his thumb on your clit, his other hand squeezing your hip. You relax a little more, your body getting used to the feeling again.

“Doin’ so good for us, baby,” Rafe hails. Cam kisses along your neck as he draws out fucking back into you a little rougher. Your pussy clamps down around Rafe, making his brows tug together. “Goddamn… Feels so fucking good,” he mumbles under his breath as Cam starts to fuck into your ass hard and fast, making your pussy bounce on Rafe’s dick from Cam’s backshots alone.

“Rafe… Fuck, Cam,” you mumble drunkenly. Going so dumb on their dicks you can barely think. Rafe smiles at you blissfully, hooking his big hand around you to pull you to his mouth. Your trembling lips smash against his, the new angle making you gasp and cry even more. “I can’t…” You sniffle between gentle kisses.

“You are though… You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good,” Rafe whispers.

“Fuck, baby,” you whimper as Cam moans behind you, watching his thick cock plunge into your ass with each stroke.

“Does it feel good, princess?” Rafe asks as he sucks off your bottom lip.

“So fuckin’ good...”

“Then you gotta take it…”

Your climax sneaks up on you fast, bringing Rafe with it; his muscles tremble with yours as he fills you with his warm cum, your tight cunt milking every last bit of him as Cam fucks you through your orgasm, filling your ass with his seed as well.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” Rafe whispers

The night stretched on, Rafe and Cam, never letting you go. All the tension you held in your body seemed to ease in his arms. Their strong hands trace your bare skin, holding you like they’ve wanted to for weeks.

Apologies were said, but even so, the pain of the past few weeks lingered on, the sincerity in their beautiful eyes making you believe that you could get back to where you were before, maybe even somewhere better now that Cam’s here too.

Cam’s large hand rests gently on your body as he sleeps, snoring lightly behind you as you look at Rafe, wide awake, his beautiful eyes still on you like he’s afraid you’ll go away again.

“Baby,” he begins, his voice wavering, “Can you forgive me? Please.”

"Rafe..." Of course forgive you," you assure as you snuggle a little closer.

“I was nothin’ without you. You are the best part of me,” he whispers as he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing kisses on the top.

Without another word, Rafe tugs his ring off his finger, gliding it back onto yours and setting it back as if it has always belonged there–and it has. Rafe’s expression softens as he lives in your sweet words, knowing that you still wanted to be with him even after everything that had happened.

“We’ll take care of you like you take care of us. Alright?”

“Okay, baby…”

Rafe tips his forehead, sharing his breath with you. “I love you, princess.”

“I love you too.”

"I get you last... I always get you last," Rafe whispers breathlessly against your kiss.

"Always."

A/N: Alternate ending | Rafe x Reader Link

[suzukiblu]

Day thirty of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“I hate you, I’m literally gonna kill you, oh my god, Tim, Tim, Tim,” Bernard curses vehemently, and Tim nuzzles the back of Kon’s shoulder and presses his palms down a little bit against his thighs like that’s even enough pressure for him to notice, much less actually be moved by. 

So it moves him, obviously, and he drops his hips even harder on their next rock down, and Bernard curses. 

“Pet,” Tim hums against the back of Kon’s shoulder in a sticky-sweet little murmur that doesn’t sound anything like his “always” and makes all of Kon’s nerves light up all at once. “I can’t reach Bernard that well from here, so kiss him for me, alright? Make sure he knows how much I like being inside you with him. How much I like him.” 

There isn’t enough of Kon’s brain left for anything to happen to it, but the inside of his skull buzzes like a bolt of electricity ricocheting around a pinball machine, and he immediately throws both arms around Bernard’s neck and lunges in and down to kiss the fucking life out of him, and keeps riding them both through it the best he can. 

Tim asked him to. Tim wants him to. 

Tim trusts him to tell Bernard how Tim’s feeling right now. 

“F-fuck!” Bernard chokes into his mouth, and then he kisses him back all eager and messy and and Kon’s electric-pinball skull lights up like it just scored the jackpot. 

“Good boy,” Tim rasps all low and punched-out against his shoulder, and digs his fingers into his thighs; pulls him down harder onto the full stretch of their cocks inside him. “You can tell him how much you like him too, while you’re at it.” 

Kon’s electrified skull feels less like a pinball machine and more like a lightning strike, hearing that. 

And also, just a little bit, feels the tiniest little spark of a thought that–that maybe–

Did Tim tell him to do this because he knows how bad he wanted kissed earlier? 

And as soon as he’s thought that–as soon as he’s thought that, he can’t help trying to kiss Bernard anything like the same way Tim did. He–felt it. Felt exactly how they did it. Couldn’t not feel it from in this close, really. 

And it’s definitely coming off more frantic and urgent, the way he feels right now, but . . . 

“Fucking fuck,” Bernard chokes again, and Kon kisses him harder and wraps him up tighter in his TTK and–

“I like you, I like you, I really really like you, you’re so so nice and you’re so hot and your cock feels so good, I wanna feel how hard I make you too, wanna feel it all weekend, want you to keep me all weekend,” he babbles all buzzed and half-coherent between kisses, clinging tighter to Bernard with his arms and tighter to both of them with his TTK and tightest to both of them with his hole, he’s pretty sure, though that part’s not on purpose, really, it’s just–it’s just–“Want you to keep me all week, please, please please please, lemme stay, keep me, please, Bernard, can I stay?” 

“Fucking hell, Tim, why didn’t you let me meet any of your friends sooner?!” Bernard sputters, and he yanks at Kon’s ass maybe-reflexively, which shouldn’t move him any more than the pressure of Tim’s palms pressed down flat against his thighs did, and also moves him exactly as much as the pressure of Tim’s palms pressed down flat against his thighs did. “Fuck!”

“I like you, I like you,” Kon keeps gasping out as he rides them harder, because Tim told him to, because it’s not even hard to, because he really, really does and it’s so easy and–and Tim gave him to Bernard and let him hold his hand and gave him both their cocks at once and wore his jacket and got him his favorite candy and–“Bernard, Bernard, ROBIN!”