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The Party (Fancy Pants chapter one)
Words: 2.3k
Pairing: Paige Bueckers x actress!fem!oc Ava Radmall
Thanks to Cam, Paige and Ava meet and have an instant connection. Slow burn and rising tension, mutual pining but idiots who won't admit feelings.
TW: discussion of religion (Christianity)
Paige
I answer the knock at the door since Cam is busy with other hostess duties. It’s 8:15 pm and her house and yard is already bustling with people. Her holiday parties are always a hit.
On the other side is a woman with big beautiful brown eyes and long swooping brown hair partially held back in a clip. Her face is practically glowing in the light, but I’m sure she’d look angelic in the dark too.
“Hi, I’m Ava” she says and reveals almost perfectly straight and white teeth with a smile. She reaches her right hand out to shake mine. It makes my fingertips buzz.
“I’m Paige.” I muster and return her smile, coming to my senses. I step to the side so she can come in and try not to stare as she slips off her big black scarf shawl to reveal that her long red longsleeve dress she’s wearing has an open back. I can’t help that my eyes linger on the curve of her spine that practically points down to the way the fabric gracefully gathers at her hips before flowing to her ankles.
She must notice me staring because she says, “It’s from Reformation.���
“Uh, what?” I say, feeling caught in the act.
“My dress, silly.” She says with a smile and then Cam comes up to hug her from behind. Cam is still a good height taller than her despite Ava’s sleek black heels.
“Ugh it’s so good to see you!” Cam squeals when she releases Ava from her grasp.
“Oh my gosh I know! I’m so glad I made it back from Montana in time. It was snowing so bad that when they delayed my flight I thought they were gonna cancel it and I was so worried!”
She goes to hug Cam again and they sway back and forth.
Eventually Cam seems to remember I’m here too and introduces us, despite remarking it looks like we’ve already met.
“We were roommates at Stanford,” Cam mentions. That helps me bridge the gap as to why the Ava Radmall was here. An on the rise star currently in the middle of her huge rise to fame. I don’t know how she has enough hours in a day or days in a year to be the love interest in the next Marvel movie and the funniest character in the latest season of Wednesday. Not that I was paying too much attention to what she was doing, it’s just hard not to hear her name thrown around.
“You already know Paige’s a rookie on the team, but come and I’ll introduce you to the rest of them out back!” Cam exclaims and they walk through the party arm in arm. I decide to walk behind them.
We reach her backyard with the pool and the high top standing tables. Ava gracefully shakes everyone’s hand and then Cam points her to the open bar.
“I’ll have a dirty Shirley, please.” She asks the bartender as I stand next to her.
“Ooh make that two please.” I add. “Another dirty Shirley fan, that’s kind of rare.”
“Yeah well I had a 24-48 rule and Cam’s season didn’t align with mine so I figured why not just add alcohol to my go-to?”
“Oh what sport did you play?” I ask. This makes her even more interesting. An athlete?
“Soccer. Midfield.” She answers as our drinks are placed. We thank the bartender and head back to the team, continuing our small talk.
Ava
When I step into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water (and maybe to check out the snacks Cam didn’t put out for the party), I can feel Paige following behind me.
It brought me this warm feeling. I’m excited to talk to her again, especially outside of the group setting. There’s something about her that I can’t put my finger on but that’s so compelling to me.
“I like your necklace,” she nods towards the pearly white cross outlined in shiny gold that has hung from my neck everyday since my mom gave me the it when I was sixteen. Some days I wore it more for her than for its meaning.
Then I get to watch unabashedly as her slender fingers dip into her crisp white dress shirt. She pulls out a plain silver cross of her own to show me, like it’s our little secret.
“How long have you been a Christian?” She asks, looking like she’s burning this memory into her brain.
“I was raised Presbyterian but had a bit of a hard time in high school before coming back to it.” I responded. The alcohol flowing through my veins seemed to have made me extra talkative since I normally wouldn’t even say that much to someone I just met. It took me two years to tell Cam that and we were roommates practically glued to the hip.
Paige doesn’t say anything but her face looks like she understands. Before my mind convinces me not to, I open my mouth to speak again.
“Can you keep a secret?” I ask and she says yes both quietly and with her full chest. We both lean slightly closer and I drop my voice. “Well it’s not really a secret, most real people in my life know, but I’m not like out out. But I’m not really in either. So just like please don’t go running right to the media about it.”
Her blue eyes bore into mine and she crosses her heart, zips her lips, and throws the key behind her back. The gesture of it all makes me giggle.
For some reason it makes me suddenly shy about telling her my “secret.” I take a sip of my drink. She quirks her eyebrow asking if I’m going to just finally tell her.
“I’m gay or something,” I say and wave my hands around.
“Or something?”
“Not really or something, I’m just gay got nervous.”
She laughs. The sound does something to me that’s more intoxicating than any drink a bartender could make.
“Well can I tell you a secret that’s also not really a secret?”
I nod.
“I’m gay too.”
For some reason when she says this it makes me smile. She’s trying to ease my nerves and relate. Although she hasn’t spoken on it publicly, it definitely did not seem like a secret. Especially considering how hot she looked in her dress shirt and navy pants, it would be a shame if she wasn’t at least a little bit gay.
For another (maybe related) reason it makes my whole body feel warmer than it normally does when I drink. It’s like my Asian flush acting double.
“And what about your faith?” I ask. Now it’s her turn to take a sip of her own drink, but she finds it empty and I don’t stop her when she reaches for mine. I’m either way past my limit or there’s something about Paige that’s knocking all my walls down. I don’t want to tell her my classic charming stories, I want to tell her the truth.
“Also raised in the church.” She nods her head down but brings her eyes back up to you. “Never had a problem with my faith and sexuality though. I pretty much knew I liked women since I knew what a woman was.”
“How?” I ask.
“How did I know I was gay?” She asks, although it’s clear she knows what I’m asking about. I purse my lips and she leans back from the counter to hold her hands up in fake surrender. “Aight I’m just playing. My parents probably knew before I did but definitely before I told them, and I think because of that they were always very strong on teaching me my faith is between me and God and that He made me in His image as His child just the way I am.”
“That’s beautiful, Paige.” I say and my eyes start to feel a little more teary than when our conversation started.
“You alright, Ma?” She asks and places a warm hand on my shoulder, her pinky finger falling off the fabric of my dress and making contact with my skin. Her hand is warm and yet it still sends a shiver through my body that I try my best to resist.
“Oh yeah sorry that’s embarrassing,” I gush. “I think it’s just a sign I’m reaching the end of my night.”
I place my glass in the sink and make my way towards the hidden stairwell in the side of the kitchen.
“Where are you going, Ava?” Paige asks and I turn on the second step to look at her.
“I always crash in Cam’s guest room after these parties.” I notice the crinkle in Paige’s brow this seems to cause so I keep going. “don’t worry I always do this so she knows, we like to debrief in the morning. What’s a night out without a roomie debrief?”
“No it’s not that, it’s just I thought I was staying in her guest room.”
I pause for a second before turning back to the stairs. “Don’t worry, I’m not a cuddler.” I tell her and continue unbothered on my way.
Paige
When Cam knocks on the door the next morning I feel like she’s hitting me directly in the head. I roll back over and ignore it, glad we’re in the off season.
But when the door opens I hear the covers shift next to me as someone sits up.
Ava.
I fully lean into this whole fake sleeping thing as I eavesdrop on their conversation. But some nagging questions are coming back to me. Did I sleep with Ava Radmall? In Cameron’s guest room? At her holiday party? No. I must have more class than that, right? And I sure hope I would remember if that ever did happen.
“So are you gonna let me in bed so we can debrief?” Cam asks.
“Just a second let me sit up.” Ava says and I hear her yawn. “Wait a second. If you’re wearing your Sparks sweatshirt, then whose am I wearing?”
So that’s where my sweatshirt went. I had come back a few hours later than Ava had and patted down the armchair I thought I tossed it on but couldn’t find it. I was drunk enough to leave it to the morning, I guess.
Cam gasps and I can only imagine her eyes going wide with it.
“Paige!”
“Huh?” I mumble and turn over to face them.
Somehow this sends Cam into a fit of laughter and she’s leaning her hands against her knees with tears in her eyes before she speaks again.
“I totally forgot that I said you could stay in my guest room and that Ava was coming! I’m so sorry guys,” she says.
Ava pokes me in the arm. “Scoot over so Cam can cuddle up for the debrief.” She commands and so I listen.
She props her pillow against the headboard and sits up, lifting up the comforter so Cam can get in too. I scoot to the edge and turn on my stomach to face them, remaining horizontal.
I let the two of them chit chat away about Cam’s last few weeks of off season and her wedding planning, followed by Ava’s two weeks shooting in Montana and her plans for flying her mom out here for Christmas. Then they get around to debriefing what happened at the party. At multiple points in Cam’s story about one of her fiancé’s friends jumping fully clothed into the pool, Ava’s jaw drops. At the punchline she throws her head back and lets out a deep belly laugh that gets Cam laughing too.
I smile at the sight of Ava and her laugh instead of laughing at Cam’s story that I wasn’t listening to in the first place. In the morning LA light her hair looks more golden bronze than the brown it was last night. It’s barely messed up from sleeping because she didn’t move once. Her bare skin was bright without her makeup, and I could see the tiny marks on her face that only made it more interesting. I want to memorize them. Then she tucks her hair behind her ears, exposing her neck, and against my better judgement I allow myself to imagine the sweet taste of her skin and what it would be like if she let me leave a mark.
Ava leans into Cam’s shoulder and sighs.
“I missed you. We need to hang out more.”
“I so agree.” Cam says. “It’s both terrible and great we tend to be busy at the same time.”
“I’m pretty free in January. Not even press outside of LA.” Ava says and Cam seems to squeal again.
“I better get back,” She says and peels out from under the covers. Cam starts talking to me as I try not to look at Ava’s pretty long legs as she looks for her dress on the ground. Her black seamless underwear has lacy sides that hug her hips just right. It looks so effortless, because of course Ava Radmall would look so fucking fantastic in her underwear, but I have this sneaking suspicion she worked to find the fit because it’s almost too good.
She finds the dress and pulls it over her hips and then up under the sweatshirt, which she tosses off and onto me.
Then the three of us make our way downstairs, hug Cam goodbye, and make our ways to our cars parked next to each other somehow on the curb.
“Hey, thanks for letting me borrow your sweatshirt. And sorry for borrowing your sweatshirt.” Ava says as she opens the door, standing in the crease. I unlock my own car and turn to her.
“Hey anytime. See ya around, Ava.”
“Goodbye, Paige.”
#wlw#paige bueckers#Paige bueckers x oc#fanfic#Cameron brink#wbb#Paige bueckers x fem!oc#religion#christianity#TW: religion#TW: christianity#slow burn#mutual pining#friends to lovers
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The Argument
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#don’t worry about the table it just clipped out#undertale au#sans au#my art#comics#dream sans#dreamtale#The Argument#ink sans#inktale
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𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘 𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦
pairing: lando norris x fem!reader
word count: 3.5k+
summary: after travelling with lando to the last couple of grand prix’s, it takes another driver flirting with you for him to realize his feelings
request: “i've been seeing clips of lando not eating and taking care of himself properly during this short break and max stressing out on the stream could you please write a lando x reader please, where reader is close friends with lando and max and takes it upon herself to travel with lando for the remaining of the gps to make sure hes well. maybe one of the drivers tries to flirt with her during one of the races and thats what makes lando realise he has feelings for her. “
warnings: sweating, talks of unhealthy habits, awkward flirting | what other driver to flirt with her than the one who flirts with everyone, sorry i’ve kind of made him look like a dick i just don’t know how to flirt 🤷♀️ not too confident in this one
You’d been friends with Lando almost as long as Max had. You’d been friends with Max for almost your whole lives ━━ meeting him when his family was visiting some of their family during the summer in your town and you two hit it off. You had known about Lando, but you didn’t fully meet him until about a year after the two boys had met. The two of you connected instantly. Both of you don’t know why, though Max had always joked that you two were each others person . . . and you both didn’t know, but he tried the trick the two of you into getting together. He could see the look in Lando’s eyes when he’d look at you, but he’d always make excuses. ‘She’s just a friend, I’m too busy with formula 1,’ etc. Max would just roll his eyes.
You were a bit more accepting to the idea, because you did like him a little bit. Though you didn’t want to ruin the friendship and didn’t want to interrupt his career. You cared too much, and would rather be friends with him than mess it up in a chance that he liked you. Don’t get me wrong, you’d had boyfriends over they years, but the came and went, and you ended up going to Lando or Max about another boy who broke your heart. Every time that happened, Lando swore his heart broke a little bit, but he never told you. He was never really open with his feelings, and that’s why you didn’t notice he wasn’t doing for awhile.
You had known Lando was stressed about this current F1 season. He always talked about it, not about the stress, really, just more about how the car was, the team was, and there was undertone that only you or Max could sense. You both kept an eye on him, but you had recently gotten busy with some stuff. Checking your phone had slipped your mind and you don’t even think to do it until you finally had some time to yourself and you ordered some takeout. It wasn’t until you texted the group chat that Max called you.
“You alright?” You asked him, mouth full of Chinese food. “Yeah. You?” You nodded even though he couldn’t see you, “yeah.” There was some silence before a sigh from the other end. “Usually I don’t get into his business because he can handle himself, but I’m worried about Lando.” You raised your eyebrows and set your food down on the coffee table and paused your television. “What do you mean? Is he okay? I know he’s been stressed but I didn’t think it was anything he hasn’t handled before. It’s Lando, you know?” You ranted, eyes drawing to a picture of the three of you on your wall.
“I know. I wasnt going to do anything besides talk to him about it, but he’s blocked me out. He’s been mentioning ━━ unknowingly, because if he did he wouldn’t say it all ━━ that he’s not been eating well. In the sense that he’s eating expired food that will get him sick but he doesn’t want to go out and not showering a lot. At first, I thought he was just over-exaggerating, but then it continued and when I’d ask, he’d push me off. I don’t think he’s well.” You frowned. “Where is he now? At home?” “Yeah. We’ve been streaming together, and that’s when I started to notice his tone of voice and stuff. I think the stress of the championship is taking a toll on him.”
“I’ll talk to him. I’ll force him to talk to me. I’ll see what we can do. And before you apologize, I know you have other shit going on right now. It’s also nothing to apologize for. He’s our friend. I’ll let you know how it goes okay?” You smiled, hoping Max was feeling better. Knowing him, he was. You picture him with his shoulders becoming less tense and him letting go of the ridge of his nose he was squeezing. “Okay,” he sighed, “let me know if you crack him. “Like an egg.” You both laughed and you ended the call.
You grabbed your computer from the coffee table and opened it, checking the time. It was eight pm. Monaco was only an hour ahead of the UK, and you knew he’d still be up. He’s usually is ━━ and he doesn’t sleep well when he’s stressed. You went on to FaceTime and clicked his name. It only rang a couple times before his face popped up. “Hey.” He greeted you. Even before he talked you could tell something was wrong ━━ his sunken cheeks, his pale face, he literally lived in Monaco, he should not be pale, and his eye bags. His voice solidified your thought. It was tired and strained, like he didn’t have the energy to fake it.
“Hey buddy, how are you?” He replied with an ‘okay and kept eating whatever expired thing it was now. “. . . Are you sure?” You paused before asking, not wanting to set him off. He paused as well and looked up at the screen. “Did Max put you up to this?” He asked you. He wasn’t even mad, he was just tired. “Lando, you’re not doing okay.” You softly told him. He was about to reply before his resolve cracked and he started to sob. You wished you were there to hood him, knowing that he was alone, and he was alone while he want okay. “I know, I know I’m not. But I’m too tired to do anything about it,” he hiccuped as he spoke, “i just wish you were here. I cant do this alone. I have to go back in two days and I’m not ready.”
It was at that moment you made your decision. You kept him on as you booked a one way ticket to Monaco. “Then you won’t be,” you told him, “I’m coming over there. Max can’t, but I can. And I will. You won’t be alone Lando, not anymore.” The man let out a sigh in response and his face started to loosen up. It was quiet before a small ‘thank you’ made its way out of his mouth. “Always.” You smiled at him. “Now, when I get there I expect your ass to be waiting for me in one of those stupid cars of yours.” Lando let out a guttural laugh, and he had to admit it felt good. “You got it.”
Lando kept his promise, and as you stood out front of the Monaco airport, you spot him. His face is scanning the area, trying to find you, but he passes right over you. You shake your head ━━ for a formula one driver, he can be oblivious. “Muppet! Over here!” His eyes finally meets yours and his face lights up. “Hey.” You greet each other as you hug. “Hey. Nice to see you.” He told you as he grabbed your bags and piled them into the trunk. “You too. Someone had to save your ass.” He looks at you with a ‘really?’ face and you shrug and get in the car.
You chat all the way to his house. It took a little while because when you stopped for gas, a couple fans spotted him and asked for pictures, but you weren’t in any rush. A rush meant less time with him. You also knew meeting the fans made him happy, his face may not say it, but when you three would FaceTime he’d rant with a giant smile on his face about the fans he’d met and gifts he’d got. You and Max always teased him about it, joking that he’s such a hotshot and ‘you’re so popular!’ but that’s all that it was, jokes.
When you got to his house, you only pulled a couple things out of your suitcase as you were leaving with him the next day. You showered, and then forced him to take you to the grocery store to make him real food, not food that’s been sitting in his fridge or freezer for months. You ended grabbing things to make Alfredo and headed back, putting music on, grabbing some wine, and getting to it ━━ though it was mostly you cooking and Lando almost hurting himself with the most random things. You didn’t know how he lived by himself.
After that, he still hasn’t packed his bag ━━ which you scolded him like a child for ━━ and helped him pack it. You think his neighbours thought it was a domestic by the way you two bickered.
“What about this one?” “I don’t know.” “Lando. You have until tomorrow, and at this rate, you’ll be going naked.” “People won’t mind that.” “You’re so gross. Get out of my sight.”
You continued to bicker to the point where you shoed him off with a wave of your hand ━━ he didn’t actually leave, just talked to you with a smug look on his face ━━ and you chose clothes for him. You were definitely telling Cisca about this. At the end of it, you two were giggling at the movie you had put on, drunk off wine and delirious after the loss of sleep. You didn’t even know you fell asleep until you woke up by the sound of Lando’s alarm. You had to wake him up with so much force it almost pushed him off the couch. “Wake up you dickhead.” You two were a mess of limbs tangled together. That was the closest you two had ever been.
It didn’t take long ━━ with you practically shoving him out the door ━━ to arrive at the airport and get on the McLaren private jet. You felt a bit weird getting on as you even offered to get your own flight, but Lando looked at you like you had grown two heads and replied with “Oscar’s girlfriend uses it, you get to too.” That made you blush. You didn’t think he realized how the words sounded. When you got in, Lily and Oscar were already seated. You greeted each other and you went off with Lily as Oscar and Lando talked about the race coming up with their team over a zoom call.
Though you had heard of Lily, this was your first time meeting her. She was incredibly nice and you two got along great, even exchanging numbers incase you wanted to rant about ‘how annoying the boys were’ with a wink. That was pretty much how the plane ride went, you and Lily chatting and laughing as the boys talked strategy. Both of you didn’t know this, but you and Lando kept stealing glances at the other. When Oscar asked, Lando’s excuse was ‘she’s my best friend, just making sure she’s alright,’ but yours was a bit different.
You had been showing Lily pictures of the three of you: Max, you, and Lando, and sharing stories before she asked “what’s up with you and Lando?” You paused and turned to look at her. “What do you mean?” She gave you a look. You sighed, “we’re just friends.” “In a ‘I’m denying it way’ or a ‘I like him, but we’re just friends’ way?” “The second one. I mean, he’s my best friend and I love him, but I like him a little bit. But I’d rather face it alone than lose the friendship.” You whispered that part, looking to make sure Lando wasn’t looking. She nodded, “I get that . . . But are you sure he doesn’t like you back?” “He burps in my face and eats my food. I’m sure.
She let out an ‘okay’, dragging out the ‘y’. Though Lily wanted to say that Oscar did that too ━━ besides the burping part ━━ she didn’t. She figured you’d eventually figure it out, or she and Oscar’s would give you the little push you needed.
You must’ve fell asleep soon after you put in your hand phones and put on your playlist as you woke up to someone attempting to pick you up. “Hm?” You asked, still half asleep. You heard a quiet ‘shot’ before the voice spoke up louder. “Time to wake up.” You opened your eyes to see Lando standing in front of you. “What a way to wake me up with a jumpscare of your face.” You mused as you got up and stretched. You were always a bit grumpy when you woke up and that’s why Lando wanted to lift you so you’d stay awake. “I will hit you.” He replied to you as you made your way down the stairs of the plane and on to the tarmac. “I’ll tell Cisca.” That shut him up real quick.
The city of Austin, Texas passed by you in blurry images. Usually Lando would’ve poked you until you finally turned to him and hit him in the back of the head, but it was your first time in Austin and he let you take it all in. When you got closer to the hotel though, that’s when he started to annoy you. You did hit him in the head when the car parked in front of the hotel, and Lily and Oscar heard the aftermath of that with Lando mumbling an ‘ow’ and rubbing the back of his head.
“I don’t even hit you that hard!” “Yes you did, I have brain damage.” “I’ll give you brain damage if you keep complaining.”
The four of you made it into the hotel and up to your rooms, albeit with a little fuss with you and Lando bickering, but when you got into the room, you immediately flopped on the bed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been to a hotel with a bed as nice as this.” Lando looked surprised. “Really?” You nodded as you sat up and crossed your legs. “You told me Max payed for you for that one hotel in Italy?” You stayed silent. “Did he not pay for you?” “No, i payed for myself . . . At a different hotel. It’s not his fault though, I told him you payed for me.”
You knew you were in for a scolding when you saw his face, and you were. You tried so hard not to giggle at his face. He was halfway through a sentence when you finally broke. “What?” “Your face is really funny when you’re mad. You make a weird face.” “I do not!” “You do, ask Max.” “Whatever.” He continued and then made you promis to never do that to him or Max with a pinkie promise. You rolled your eyes and did it. After that, you two got ready for bed. You had gotten into your individual beds and turned the lights off when you spoke up. “It was a good plan though. None of you had a clue.” “. . . It was good. But you’re not doing it again.” “. . . Damn.”
You stayed with Lando for the rest of the US Grand Prix, only letting him go for interviews, racing, and media ━━ though you made sure to check on him during the day when you could. When you couldn’t be with him, you’d hang out in the garage with Lily, or you’d tag along with the other girls who were there that Lily introduced you to. You’d particularly made friends with Alexandra, you two hitting it off almost immediately.
You passed out almost immediately when you got back to Monaco for the next couple days before you had to leave again, and it felt like a blur. You only remember a little of it ━━ showers, movies with Lando, and sleeping ━━ before you were being shipped off to the next Grand Prix. You had no idea how he did it. You knew he’d been doing this awhile, but the jet lag was enough to hve you feeling hazy. You were sure Lando had gotten so many pictures of you sleeping and sent them to Max. There was one time when you woke up while he was taking one and you couldn’t get his phone in time . . . Though you did threaten to post an embarrassing photo of him during his teenage years if he didn’t delete. He showed you him deleting it, and the redownloaded it. You found this out later after Lando sent it to the group chat. That dickhead.
You were now in Brazil, two weeks later, heading into the Paddock with Lando. You offered to stay behind and let him have pictures taken of just him but he waved you off, joking that ‘you’d make him look better.’ In response to that you gave him the finger and walked in front of him ━━ thought you had no idea where you were going ━━ with his laugh resonating behind him.
You were excited for Brazil. You’d always wanted to go there since you were kid, fascinated with the culture and country, but your family never had enough money and you had been busy every previous time the Brazil Grand Prix took place. You had ranted to Lando the whole car ride there, him giggling at how excited you got. He didn’t find it weird or annoying, just happy that it made you happy. You hung it in the McLaren garage with the boys and Lily until it was time to start media, then you made your way to the Williams garage to find the other Lily. It was one of the races she was able to make it to and you had planned to meet up.
When you got to the garage, you passed Alex and Franco. You had met Alex, but you had yet to the men the new rookie. You’d heard of his flirty reputation from Lando, laughing at him. You eventually found Lily with some help and you two stayed at the Williams garage for a little bit before you both decided to grab some coffee. You talk about her career, your families, friends, and things going on recently. You told her how you ended up here ━━ obviously keeping some details out for Lando’s sake ━━ as you grabbed the coffee and made rounds around the Paddock.
It when you had stopped by the bathroom so Lily could go that you saw Franco again. You were on your phone when you heard his voice. “I saw you at Williams, no?” You lifted your head to see him leaning against the wall beside you, facing you. “Yeah. I was going to see Lily.” He nodded and hummed. “Are you here with Lily?” He smirked. When he did that you realized what he was doing. “No. I’m with someone else. A friend.”
“A friend, huh?” You forced yourself not to roll your eyes. You nodded. “Well, since they’re just a friend, do you want to get to know each other?” You were about to respond when Lily came out. You handed her her stuff as she greeted Franco. You were about to leave before you turned to him, “not really.” He looked like he’d been slapped in the face, not expecting that response.
Lily never asked, but you had a fleeting she knew what took place based on what you said last to him, the look on her face, and the quiet giggles she let out. You two continued to walk around the paddock until Alex texted her that he was done. She apologized but you told her not to be and tell Alex you say hi.
You weren’t in a hurry to get back to the McLaren garage so you took your time, strolling past different areas and looking at food stops. When you did get the garage, you saw Lando with an annoyed expression and you made your way over, bumping your shoulder into his. “What’s up?” He looked at you. “You met Franco?” You raised your eyebrows, not expecting him to know that. “Yeah . . . How’d you know?” “Oscar told me.” You nodded slowly. He seemed upset. There was a beat of silence before you realized what he was feeling.
“Are you jealous?” He spun his head around to face yours. “No!” You raised an eyebrow. “Sure. Sure.” You looked at the screen he was just watching, pretending to leave it as you noticed him fiddling with his hands. “Yes. I was.” His voice was quiet as he spoke, almost as if he was scared to say it. “Why?” He cleared his throat, “because he was flirting with you. I know he was.” “Why does that matter?”
There was some more silence. “Because i like you.” You opened your mouth in shock, not prepared to hear that. You opened and closed it before you spoke. “Really?” He took your expression in the wrong way and responded with a ‘forget it’ and moved to put his headphones back on before you grabbed them out of his hands and forced him to look at you. “I like you too, you muppet.” Now it was his turn to be shocked. When he repeatedly opened and closed his mouth, you grabbed the sides of his face and kissed him. It was weird. I mean, you’d imagined it, but you never expected it to happen.
When you pulled away, his cheeks were red and he had a sappy smile on his face. “So . . . Can I take you out on a date after this then?” You snorted, “well I hope so. I want to be treated, Mr. Norris.”
#emma writes#wcters 1k celebration#x reader#x fem!reader#imagine#lando norris#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#ln4#ln4 x reader#lando norris imagine#f1#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula one#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine
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“Megumi!” You call your son in the living room, who’s sitting next to his father, Toji, on the couch watching the news. “Could you go grab your sister and tell her to put her studying on hold? Dinner’s almost done.”
“Yeah, no problem,” Megumi says as he rises to his feet, putting his headphones around his neck and pulling his phone out of his hoodie pocket. “Oh, uh, Mom?”
“Hm?”
“Can Itadori spend the night after dinner?” He then looks over at Toji with a small scowl. “After Dad hides all of his assassin stuff?”
“Hey, watch it,” Toji says.
You nod with a light smile. You loved having Yuuji Itadori over. He was a bright kid, and besides, he made Megumi relaxed and happy. “Of course. Go prepare the guest bed, yeah?”
Megumi departs with a nod, then heads upstairs. From the living room, you hear Toji whistle. “Wow. Baby, looks like Spider-Man stopped that bank robbery.”
You look up from the dishes in the kitchen, then hum in delight when you catch what’s on the screen. It looked like small clips from the internet as the reporter gave details. The masked hero, wearing blue and red, swings, fights, and rescues hostages swiftly. “Incredible,” you say, then walk over to hand your husband a list of groceries. “Could you head to the store and grab these? I want to make sure that we have enough food for breakfast in the morning now that Yuuji will be staying the night.”
Toji looks around to make sure that Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t present, then lowers his voice to a whisper. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about Yuuji.”
“Megumi has feelings for him. Yeah, I know.”
“No- Not that. Amazing for them, and I think they’re adorable together, but,” Toji points over at the TV. “I think he’s Spider-Man.”
You blink, then burst into laughter as you head back into the kitchen. “Toji, what? Don’t be ridiculous. He’s only fifteen and very busy. You know how often he studies with Megumi.”
“I’m serious,” he says as he follows you. “Think about it. Do you know how often Yuuji shows up with bruises or scratches?”
You begin arranging plates on the dining room table. “Just like our son, the kid’s a fighter. I mean, his uncle Sukuna was a huge fighter before he passed away. Plus, he spends a lot of time with Satoru Gojo, and we know how he is. Also, doesn’t he have an older brother? Brothers fight.”
“True, but just walk with me for a second.” You sigh and look up to see Toji waving his hands animatedly as he explained. “Do you remember when we all went to the parade on New Years together, and that giant robot appeared?”
“Yes, it was all everyone could talk about for days.”
“Uh-huh.” He then points at you. “Do you also remember how Yuuji was gone when Spider-Man appeared at the scene?”
You stare at him blankly. “...Toji, he went to the bathroom before everything happened,” you remind him. “I’m certain that he got lost in the crowd when everyone started running.”
Toji groans. “You don’t believe me. Baby, I’m telling you—He’s Spider-Man. I can’t prove it now, but I will eventually.”
You sigh again and cross your arms. “Okay, so, let’s say he was. What would you do?”
“Well, I mean…” Toji mutters, then sheepishly rubs the back of his head as he quietly chuckles. “I dunno, give him a high-five? Worry about Megumi?”
“Trust me, Toji. The only people with secret identities here are you and I.” You reach over and grab a stack of napkins. “By the way, Megumi had a point earlier. Be more careful about where you’re leaving weapons. One of Tsumiki’s friends nearly saw one not too long ago.”
He winces. “Sorry.”
“You’re fine.” You push to your tip toes and gently kiss him. “No job tonight, right? I know I don’t have one.”
“Nope. Once I get those groceries, I’m all free.” He grabs the list from you, then reaches towards you to lovingly push a loose strand of hair away from your face. “I’ll be back soon.” When he leaves through the back door, the front doorbell rings.
You hear Megumi rush down the stairs. “I got it,” he tells you as he passes you. When the door opens, Yuuji Itadori waves at you with his usual grin. “Hi, Mrs. Fushiguro!”
“Hi, Yuuji. What happened to your face?” You ask. His lip is slightly busted, and there’s a bruise beginning to form on his jaw. Yuuji laughs sheepishly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his yellow hoodie. “Oh, uh, me and Okkotsu fought again. Gojo-sensei had to pull us apart.”
Megumi rolls his eyes. “I swear, you’re always fighting.”
“Aw, come on, Megumi,” Yuuji teases with a smirk as he crosses his arms. “You’re just as bad. I heard about what happened a few days ago.”
Your son’s cheeks dust with pink, and he clears his throat. “Yeah, whatever. You need to get cleaned up before dinner. Come on, there’s a first-aid kit in the bathroom.”
Megumi goes upstairs, and Yuuji follows close behind him. You’re about to tell Yuuji that the flap of his backpack is slightly unzipped, but the words get stuck in your throat when you catch the tiniest hint of the red and blue suit. You only see it for a split-second before Yuuji swings his backpack around, excitedly telling Megumi about a new action figure he wants to get for his birthday.
Your eyes widen. Holy shit.
-----
a/n: lol i can't believe I wrote this. spidey yuuji au, you'll always be loved by me <3
#jjk x reader#written by rey <3#spiderman itafushi au#itafushi#jujutsu kaisen#toji x reader#toji fluff#toji fushiguro#jjk imagine#jjk au#jujutsu kaisen x reader#spidey yuuji#yuuji itadori#jjk crack#spiderverse#jjk x spiderverse#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro tsumiki
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lover ☆ | ! kqizen
jjk men as your boyfriend <3 (ft. daddy line ^-^)
slight nsfw ⚠️ mdni
—
gojo:
—
-> loves to squeeze your boobs for absolutely no reason. he’ll come up behind you while you’re distracted and cup your breasts like he owns them. he does the same thing with your ass, but he prefers your breasts. do expect squeezing and pinching of your nipples
-> he’s one of those guys that playfully box you. of course, his punches never connect. if he so much as touches you with his fist, he snaps out of it and cups your face, looking at you with worry and guilt
-> don’t leave your beauty products out in the open around him. satoru has no idea that they’re expensive, unless he decides that one of the bottles look particularly fancy. he’ll absolutely milk each bottle for every last drop of product, then blame it on you for failing to put them away. no need to worry, a couple minutes of reprimanding will send him straight to sephora
-> whenever you’re ever getting ready near him, he rummages through all your makeup products. you have to pounce on him before he can destroy all your powders and lipsticks. if he finds your hair-clips, he’ll snap them on and playfully mock your girlishness
-> will spend hours on end to convince you to fall asleep in his arms. you simply don’t feel like cuddling sometimes, and that by itself is torture for satoru. when you eventually cave, he gets all giddy, smiling like a puppy. he’ll take pictures of you in his arms, then whine when you roll your eyes and move away
—
geto:
—
-> this man literally refuses to fall asleep without you in his arms. more specifically, his cock has to be pressed right up against you. he doesn’t care where, but it just has to touch you. he has a habit of sticking his hands into your panties as he sleeps
-> loves to rest his head on your tummy, and loves kissing your soft skin even more. he knows how sensitive your belly is, so he doesn’t pass up on the opportunity to tickle you ruthlessly
-> he plays the guitar, and happily teaches you how to do so as well. if you ask him to play a song for you, he’ll do it shyly and reluctantly. he stops midway through the song out of embarrassment, and not even your adorable pouting can get him to continue
-> his skincare collection honestly rivals yours. it’s nothing too expensive, since he managed to pinpoint all his needs into just one or two bottles. whenever you compliment his skin, he blushes and shakes his head. in return, he compliments your skin, telling you how beautiful you are
-> he learned how to braid his raven hair from you. suguru will gladly let you practice various hairstyles on him, even if you end up pulling the shit out of his scalp. all those bows and ribbons you have go to good use when he’s around
—
nanami:
—
-> often calls you good girl and princess, endearing pet names like that. to him, it’s nothing to be sexualized. he uses good girl as a genuine praise, and princess when he’s casually referring to you
-> he’s big on eye contact, and expects you to look at him when the two of you are interacting. whether you’re crying or laughing, he wants to see those pretty eyes of yours. he gently turns your head to face his when you’re being a little brat, planting kisses on your nose and lips
-> it’s almost an instinct of his to protect you. second nature, you could say. you notice that he covers the sharp corners of tables and counters when you bend down to pick something up, which you love to tease him about. it’s a lighthearted joke, but he gets all embarrassed about it
-> you honestly feel bad about this one, but there’s not much you can do to stop it. if you so much as glance at something you see in a store, it’ll be yours in a second. nanami plays it off like it’s nothing, but in reality, he just loves to spoil is precious girl
-> given that he’s much taller than you, he often has to bend down to hear you well. he gets really close to you, and you find your brain short circuiting as butterflies take over your stomach. he does a little hm? and his husky voice sends you over the edge
—
toji:
—
-> he loves it when you stand in front of him, since it makes it easy for him to slip his hand into the side of your panties. his large hand rests on your ass as he looks up at you, casually conversing as if nothing is happening
-> gives you a confused, almost weirded out look when you make those pretty orgasm faces. he’s honestly just wondering why you’re enjoying it so much, but it encourages him to fuck you even harder
-> loves your titties to the point where it’s almost concerning. you have to constantly remind him that it’s inappropriate to grab your boobs when you’re out in public, but he excuses his perverted behavior by telling you he’s just warming up his hands. you know damn well that he’s lying. toji kisses the soft skin of your breasts every time you’re wearing a low cut top, gently nibbling and biting
-> you make him hold your hair while you eat, just to tease him. unsurprisingly, it takes a ton of convincing to get him to do this. he looks away, annoyed and ashamed that you were even able to persuade him to be your little servant. of course, he gets you back by shoving your hair into your face when there’s food near your mouth
-> if you weren’t so against it, toji would unashamedly set your nudes as his profile picture, across all his social media platforms. that, and he would have a picture of your tits as his wallpaper. he actually tried it once, and you freaked out when he showed you
—
sukuna:
—
-> sleeps with his arm around your neck, in a terrifyingly possessive way. of course, it’s nothing that puts you in danger or hurts you. he’s just trying to get the message across that you’re his
-> loves to spank you, whether it be a punishment or not. if the two of you are ever lounging around, he’ll pull you over his lap and spank you. the pressure of his hits vary, depending on his mood. they’re gentle pats sometimes, and they actually hurt other times
-> for some reason, he loves to feed you with his own hands. he thinks it’s adorable when you bite down on nothing, every time he pulls away last second. plays that childish airplane game with you, just to embarrass you further. it’s rare, but he’ll let you return the favor sometimes. you can try to pull your hand away the same way he does, but he’s a lot faster than you. he’ll grab your wrists to hold you still, managing to eat despite your attempt to tease him
-> doesn’t understand things that are labeled feminine or girly. you ask him to buy you pads? he’ll probably come home with diapers. he tries his best to comfort you during your period, though he doesn’t understand why you get so moody. he teases you when you do your makeup, but he’s genuinely wondering why you even bother when you’re already so beautiful. never take his ass to sephora, because he’ll ramble on about how the stuff is too expensive for his liking. (he ends up paying for you anyway)
-> it’s not uncommon for to girls ask him for his number. he doesn’t do much about it. literally. he stares at them with that blank expression of his, until the poor girl is creeped out to the max. you smack him, telling him that he should at least speak up and say no. surprise, surprise, he doesn’t listen
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#gojo satoru#geto suguru#nanami kento#toji fushiguro#sukuna#jjk gojo#jjk geto#jjk nanami#jjk toji#jjk sukuna#gojo x reader#geto x reader#nanami x reader#toji x reader#sukuna x reader#anime#manga#anime and manga
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different anon here but I absolutely loved the voice kink post, could I maybe ask for a little of spin off of that, and if you feel comfortable could I ask Gojo, Geto and Nanami separately with a reader who is into degradation? Especially the one mixed with praise like how much of a good cocksleeve they are for the boys?
Voice Kink?! (Part Two)
Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, FAB!Reader
Word Count: 4,550
Warnings: degradation, cursing, dirty talk, p in v, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, oral sex (M +F Receiving), spicy smut!
A/N: all three parts are a continuation of Part One! Please enjoy! I hope I did okay with the degradation! 😅
Part One
Gojo Satoru:
It had been about two weeks since your boyfriend found you listening to your smutty audiobook. That night, you had rough and passionate sex until either of you could function like normal human beings. Seeing how squirmy and turned on you got just by the sound of his voice gave Satoru a sure confidence boost! You didn't need smutty ASMR clips or audiobooks. All you needed was him.
At least, that's what he'd assumed.
So imagine his surprise when the two of you were at the gym. He was doing the leg press while you worked on the stationary bike. He glanced over at you; he held up two fingers, letting you know he had two sets left to do. But when he looked at your face, it wasn't the face of someone working out hard. No Gojo knew that face better than anyone else.
The way you bit down on your bottom lip with narrowed eyes, how you were in the process of doing your own leg presses, squeezing your thighs together, rubbing them gently, trying to be subtle, but failing miserably. You were horny, and from the earbuds in your ears, Gojo knew you were once again listening to your smutty stories.
That knowledge alone had him disregarding his final two sets, rushing to wipe down the equipment before he towered over you. Gojo smirked coldly the second you turned to acknowledge him. His eyes were dark; his jaw was clenched tight as a vein in his forehead poked out.
“Come on, sweetheart, I think we’ll finish my workout at home.”
He didn't emphasize that his workout would be you. The second you stepped into the apartment, Satoru was on you. His hands tugged your sweaty gym clothes off, yanking the seat belt off your waist. You giggled, not realizing he was upset, until he pushed you toward the living room, bending you over the coffee table.
“Satoru—?” you hesitantly ask, “Uhm, baby?”
His foot kicks your knees apart before his hands tug your tight gym pants down past your thighs, pooling them around your knees. “Yes, slut?” Your pussy throbbed as you turned to look over your shoulder at him.
“W-Well, that wasn't very nice!”
“Oooh and you think rubbing those cute little thighs together at the gym was nice? Stimulating my pussy out in public here, anyone could see? Like a dirty fucking slut?”
Satoru isn't blind; he sees how you rock your hips. “I-I wasn't—” Smack! “Ah!” you cry out, rocking your hips forward as Satoru spanks you again.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, don't lie to me, sweetheart~ you've been such a bad girl, haven't you? Listening to those nasty books in public~ getting all wet because someone is whispering dirty things in that ear?” Satoru smacks your ass again. “What a nasty fucking slut.”
Your panting, pressing your ass back against him, desperate for him to touch you. “Y-Yes, I was listening to my book~ wh-while watching you work out!” The hand on your ass trails down, plunging two fingers inside of your tight heat. “N-nngh!!” you cry out, gripping the edge of the coffee table for support.
“Imaging me fucking you~? Whispering those dirty, smutty things in your ear?” You can't speak as he rubs your g-spot, wet, squelching sounds flooding the room. “Ah~ does it feel so good my little slut can't answer?” Satoru’s tongue runs up the nape of your neck before leaning in next to your ear. “Don’t worry~ you don't have to answer because this needy little cunt is doing all the talking for you.”
The wet squelches got louder as Satoru finger fucks you faster. You're crying out, digging your manicured nails into the wood grain. Seeing you in such a messy and desperate has Satoru yanking his fingers out of your pussy before tugging his sweats down. His fat throbbing cock rubbing over your ass.
“Mhmm, you like this~ you like it when I call you out for being such a dirty whore~ god, what am I going to do with you, huh?” Pre-cum is smeared all over your ass before Satoru grabs it by the base, prodding the leaking tip against your entrance. “Maybe I should fuck you like the whore you are.”
“Fuckin do it!”
You cried out, rocking back, trying to get him inside of you. Your boyfriend smirked, eyebrows raising at you futilely. He cooed, squeezing your ass, watching you blindly, trying to get him to fuck you. You were so desperate and horny; you always got worked up when he talked nasty to you.
“Oh, come on slut~ use me like a dildo~ come on, you can do it.”
“Torruu~ Toru, please!”
“Nu-uh—put your back into it, fuck yourself.”
Sighing in defeat, you reached between your legs, easing his cock inside of you with a whine. You pushed yourself back further, slowly fucking yourself back and forth on him. Satoru smugly smirked as you rocked yourself; His hands groped at your ass, massaging it, “What a good girl~ fucking herself on my cock like the slut she is~! Does that feel good~?” his words had you whining, nodding your head as you began to rock back harder against him.“Mmmh fuck pretty girl~ your ass is rippling with each thrust~ good girl~!” Satoru grits his teeth as you clench down around him, milking him. “N-Nnngh!” Those warm large hands that had been eagerly massaging the fat of your ass move to grip your hips instead.
“S-Satoru—please! Please!”
“Please, what?” Your boyfriend's voice is husky as he groans, pressing himself all the way into you, his cock hitting your cervix.
“Please fuck me!”
“Since my slutty girlfriend begged so prettily, I guess I can give her what she wants.”
Without another word, Satoru’s cock slides out the tip threatening to pop out of your tight heat before slamming back in with a force that rocks the table. Your eyes widen, mouth agape in a silent scream as he hits your g-spot and cervix with a single thrust. He pulls back out again before slamming into you harder. Satoru’s fingers grip your hips so hard it stings, but it's a pain you welcome.
“Look at you~ getting yourself fucked stupid.” You clamp down harder while pathetically whimpering against the table. “But you do it so well~! Taking my cock so fucking good! Like you were made for it slut.” You whine louder with a string of ‘yes’ leaving your lips that has his cock twitching and hardening inside of your wet walls. “Such a good little slut~ I should thank you for being such a dirty whore in public fuuuck shouldn't I?”
“T-Toru!”
“Well, thank you~ sweetheart, for being such a good little slut and getting off in public!” One of his hands leaves your hip, grabbing your head and pressing it against the table. “Haaah! Hah fuck~! Fuuuuck d-don’t I deserve a thank you~? Hmm? For fucking you like you wanted?”
His hips are moving like a jackhammer, plowing you hard, hitting all of the right spots while moving the coffee table against the floor with each thrust. You cry out with tears as you drool against the table's surface. He’s losing control, his dicks expanding, fingers twitching as he whines. God, this was so good. Your twitch convulsed around him, screaming out loud.
“T-Thank you! Thank you, Toru!! I-Im c-cu—”
“That's right, cum for me slut,” he groans through clenched teeth, “cum all over my cock!” As Satoru feels you clamping around him, he growls, dropping his head against your shoulder as you squirt hard, soaking the floor. Your boyfriend whines, lips brushing against your skin. “G-Good girl~! Fuck~! Good fuckin’ girl~! Milk my cock! That’s it!” His hips are erratic as he lets out a loud whine before cumming deep inside of you. Spurts of hot cum make your cry softly as Gojo fills you to the absolute brim, his hips weakly rocking into you, pushing his cum further inside until he stops, sighing heavily.
You lay there against the table as Satoru groans above you. His glossy lips gently move over your sweat-sheen skin. His hands gently massage your waist as he trails kisses up your back. You hum contentedly as you turn your head, kissing him softly. His lips move lazily against yours before he sighs.
“Now that was a cool down.” He kisses you again, pulling out of you gently before lifting you. “Let's get showered and crawl in bed.” there wasn't a single complaint from you as Satoru carried you to the bathroom.
Geto Suguru:
The glass is so cold against your breasts as Suguru rocks his hips against you. Since you left the work function, he'd been eagerly rushing to get you home. And now that he had you in the comfort of your home, he wouldn’t hold back.
“A-Ah Suguru!” you cry out as his large hand tangles in your hair, pulling your face away from the window and overlooking the street before you. “D-Do we have to do it right here?”
His intoxicating earthy musk flooded your senses as he purred into your ear, lips brushing against your earlobe. “What was that? Is my little slut shy now?” the degrading words had your eyes rolling back. His hands pushed your skirt up, pooling it around your hips. “You were so needy at the party, and now that we're in the comfort of our home, you're suddenly shy?” Your husband took your earlobe between his teeth and nibbled on it. “Or did squirting on my fingers satisfy you enough?”
“N-No, that’s fuck—that’s not it.”
“Oooh? Then what is it?”
“T-The neighbors might see.”
Dark strands of hair fall over your shoulder as your husband laughs. For a second, the finest of seconds, you believe he might let you go and drag you to the bedroom. But instead, his hands leave your hips, trailing up to your breasts where he yanks your bra down, exposing your tits. Your gas before he shoves you against the window, breast squeezing against the cool surface.
“But you weren't so shy at the party. So why is it my cocksleeve is so shy now?”
Your loving husband never called you such derogatory things before. For him to call you such nasty words, well, unfortunately, it had a fire burning between your legs. You liked the side of him, hearing him call you his cocksleeve, knowing that he saw you as his, and his alone had your chest heavy with arousal. It was so hot you rubbed your thighs together, a movement that did not go unnoticed by your husband.
“My oh my, what a night this has turned out to be,” he growled in your ear, his hands slowly trailing back down your curves, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your underwear. “First, I learned that you get off to the sound of my voice, and now I can see you getting off to me degrading you?”
“C-Cant help it, Sugu—” your husband watched you rock back, “you're so hot, I get wet over everything you do.”
“Oh?” RIIIIP!! You gasped, feeling your laced underwear fall to the floor underneath you. “Looks like my slutty wife finally learned how to tell the truth.”
The next thing you manage to hear over your heavy breathing is the sound of Suguru’s belt being unbuckled and his zipper being pulled down. Your breath fogs up the window as Suguru’s thick fat cock prods at your tight entrance teasing your needy hole. God, you wanted him so bad; if he didn't get inside of you, STAT, you might lose your mind.
“M-Mmmhm fuck~ Suguru~”
“Shhh~ I know what my little fucktoy needs.” he spits into the palm of his hand, coating his cock with saliva. “Does my little cum slut want my load? Hmm? Is that it bitch?” He presses his cock against your e trance, the tips slowly pushing past the tight ring of muscles.
“P-Please, I want it, I need it, Sugu.” the feeling of the tip of his cock pushing inside of you has you slamming your hands against the window. “Oooh fuck!”
Suguru trails hot open, mouthed kisses down your neck with a grunt. “You need it~? You want to be my fuck toy; are you going to be a good girl and allow me to fill you with my cum? Fuck it into you so deep it seeps out of you all night? Is that what you want?” He slides in only an inch. “Use your big girl words and tell me.” Even without an answer, Suguru pushes in further, growling against your sensitive, heated skin.
“P-please want it! I wanna be filled.”
“Ooh, what a good little slut telling me what she fucking wants.” Suguru slammed into you all at once, filling you to the brim. Your eyes went wide, and a wheezed whine escaping Suguru roughly began fucking into you from behind. “Such a desperate cum hungry whore~ getting off to the sound of my voice~ talking to her like a common whore.”
Your husband likes seeing you so flushed and turned on. How you slid your hands down the window, your moans fogging up the window panel as he sucked in a breath through his teeth. Hearing the gasps and moans had him fuckinf into you earnestly, his eyes narrowing as he reached around toying with your clit, as the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you tight against his chest, allowing his throbbing cock to push further inside of you.
“Look at you are taking this dick like a good slut, taking it so deep~ I wonder if you could see me bulge in your tummy~?” he rests his chin on your shoulder, trying to look. “Awe, you tightened around me. Like a good girl~ your pussy is so honest.”
“S-Suguru!” drool seeps out of the corner of your mouth, “Sugu~!”
His thrusts are deep, each drag of his velvety cock hitting your sweet spots, making you cry out louder as your eyes roll back into your head. You felt so good, and seeing you in such a state had your husband bucking his hips faster, pressing you harder against the glass, leaving your breasts on perfect display for any poor soul that decided to walk by, but that was the fun of it. Not only was Sugurh’s dirty talk getting you going, but the possibility of having someone see you like this made you all the wetter.
The feeling of your slick and his ore-cum coating his cock had Suguru nipping at your shoulders. “That's it~ take every inch of my cock~ god, you nasty little bitch, getting me all worked up at the party~ making me fuck you here against the window like some run-of-the-mill slut instead of my loving wife.” he chuckled against your skin. “But you like this, don't you? Like the possibility of getting caught? Having our neighbors who view you as a sweet loving wife see what a hungry cock slut you are for your husband.”
“Y-Yes! Yes, I want that.”
“Mhmm~ good girl~ good fucking girl so honest~!” his hips move fast, slamming you against the wall with each thrust, drawing cries of pleasure out of you. “That’s it~ that’s it~ fuuuuck your cunt is milking me~ nnngh! So good, baby~ so fucking good~!”
Why was he so hot?! He didn’t have to do much to get you all worked up. Suguru had that effect on you, and he knew it from the way your knees buckled as his fingers rubbed your clit in circles.
“ I-I’m gonna cum! Ooooh fuck I’m gonna cum so hard!”
“Yeah? Gonna squirt for me again, princess~?” You nod, arching back. “So good~ do it slut cum for me, cum all over our window~ just show our neighbors just how fucking slutty you are for your husband.”
Not needing to be told twice, you screamed, head thrown back, resting against Suguru’s shoulder as you squirted all over the window. The sight of your cum slowly dripping down its surface was enough to send your husband over the same orgasmic cliff. His his stuttered as he sunk his teeth into your skin, biting you as he fucked his thick cum inside of you, pushing it in as deep as he possibly could.
“Cummin~ oooh fuck I’m cumming, princess~!” He groaned as he pulled back away from the bite mark. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
Only once you both are done shaking does Suguru pull out of you. He quickly pulls the curtain shut before he leans against it, cradling you gently against his chest. His voice is deep and smooth as he hums your name over and over again as the last waves of your orgasms pass.
“Princess, mmm, you’re utterly insatiable.” He groans as he pulls out of you. “God, I love you.”
“I love you too, Sugu~ god, I love it when you talk dirty to me like that.”
“Oh really?”
“Mhmm~ makes me wet and needy.”
Suguru has you over his shoulder in one swoop, carrying you towards the bedroom. “Good. I hope you’re ready to soak the bed because I’m not even close to being done with you.” In that instant, you were so glad you had invested in a waterproof mattress cover.
Nanami Kento:
“Look at the mess you made.” you’re on your knees, looking up at your boyfriend who towers above you. His hand is wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking it as he motions towards the wet spot on his suit pants. A mess that was caused by yourself when you squirted all over his cock at the school. Didn't warn you not to make a mess?”
Nanami strokes himself up and down, squeezing at the tip of his cock. His head tilts back as a bead of pre-cum dribbles out of the tip. If you knew, this was where you would end up after blatantly disobeying him, you might’ve reconsidered your choices. All you wanted to do was to take him into your mouth and him like he had done for you. But you had made a mess all over his final pursuit; he had decided to pleasure himself above you.
“Such a disobedient whore of a girlfriend I have.” He grunts, stroking himself faster. “Getting off to me shouting, then she has the indecency of begging for me to fuck her on school grounds.”
“Kento please—just let me—” you read your hand up to grip his shaft, only to have your hand watered away by Nanami’s left hand. “Please I wanna make you feel good!”
Nanami chokes on a moan, his eyes rolling back as he strokes his cock faster. “Then perhaps instead of being a dirty needy slut, you should’ve considered what may have happened once we got home. I was planning fully on fuck you into the mattress. But someone was impatient, needy, and desperate for my cock like the whore she is.” You whine at the derogatory terms he’s throwing at you. It makes your pussy throb, eager to please him for him to use you and call you such things. But for him to stand above, you jerking himself off above your face. This was like torturous foreplay, like edging.
“Kento I’m sorry!” Nanami glances down at your face watching as you stick your bottom lip out in a pout. “Please let me help you! I’ll let you use my mouth, please!”
“Now you’re begging for it like some cum thirsty, bitch in heat?”
“Yes! Yes, I’m begging for it! I want you so bad~ please Kento~ please.”
“Please what?”
“Please let me suck you off!”
Your pussy throbbed and clenched around nothing as you continued to stare up at your boyfriend. His gaze softens just a bit, as he hums, taking in your needy desperate appearance. You're squirming, pushing your thighs together, your hands gripping at your pants, as an outlet for all of the desire coursing through your veins. As much as Nanami would have loved to keep this act up, stroking his cock, making you suffer, he couldn't deny that he would much rather use you.
Nanami grunted, stepping closer to you, holding his cock out in front of your mouth. “You begged so nicely, it would be such a shame not to reward you.” He rubbed the tip of his cock over your bottom lip. “Now open up, and say ahh~”
“Ahh~!”
Nanami grunted, shoving his cock deep inside of your throat without any warning. Your eyes went wide as you choked around him, gagging as he gripped the sides of your face. Tears blurred your vision as you focused on exhaling through your nose at the sudden intrusion of his covk kissing the back of your throat.
“Oh fuck~ I thought my dirty need slut wanted me to fuck her mouth?” a blond eyebrow arched as you hummed around his shaft. “You're such a dirty girl~ are you thirsty for my cum?” You hummed again, glancing up at him as the tears spilled over your cheeks. “Then be a good girl for once in your pathetic life and take it all.”
Nanami pulled his cock out of your mouth before slamming it back in the tip, kissing the back of your throat deliciously. You choked and gagged but focused your attention on breathing through your nose and it attempt not to gag. Even though you put in your best effort not to gag around your boyfriends cock, you choked, gurgling around, winning, satisfied, groan from above you. Nanami sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on it as he set a pace, one that had your clenching, as your arousal soaked your underwear.
“Oooh that's it, just like that dirty little slut. Oooh, haaah fuck~!” You gagged more, moaning as he gripped both sides of your face and we can fucking you. His cock slipped down the back of your throat, causing more tears to stream down your face. “Such a good girl. Take my cock like some fucking whore. But you’re not just any common fucking whore are you? No, you’re my whore.”
You cried out softly nodding as he gripped your face harder, facing your mouth faster. “M-mmm! Ngggh!” you gagged, shutting your eyes tight in pure concentration.
“Oh fuck, fuck you're doing such a good job~ like my own little personal fleshlight~ so good pretty girl~ So. Fucking. Good.” With each thrust you could feel Nanami’s cock getting harder, growing in size as his cock dribbled sweet pre-cum all over your tongue, feeding your lust. “Ah~ shit~ love~!”
Your gagging and moans, drew Nanmi’s attention down. As he fucked your face he watched your eyes shut tight, as your nostrils flared as you struggled to breath through your nose. But the flush that dusted your beautiful skin, told him you were getting off on this as much as he was. His voice, the way he spoke down to you as he fucked your face. All of these factors put together was driving you mad. Thinking about how wet you must be had Nanami yanking his cock out of your mouth.
You coughed roughly drool and precum dripping down your chin as Nanami yanked you up pulling you on to your feet dragging you into the bedroom. He laid down on his back patting his chest as he wrapped his hand around his shaft. You watched him for a moment before he growled grabbing you with his freehand pulling you onto the bed.
“Sit on my face while you suck my cock. I want to taste you.”
“Y-Yes sir!”
A pleased hum of approval sounded in Nanami’s chest as you slipped out of your shorts. “Ooh looks like my little slut can follow simple directions.” You straddled his face, your cheeks burning as you bent forward taking his cock inside of your mouth, just as Nanami spread your folds apart, watching your entrance twitch as you gagged on him. By god, your slick coated your pussy, you really loved him talking down to you.
“Mhmm~” he ran his tongue slowly over your slit, licking from your dripping entrance all the way to your clit. “Fuck~ my dirty girl tastes so good.” his tongue repeated the same movements as you began deep-throating him. “Mmhm~ fucn~ fuck so sweet~ you're getting wetter~ you like sucking on your man’s cock that much hub? Yeah you ducking do.”
“Gahh~” you gagged around him as he began bucking his hip up into your mouth. His cock slid down the back of your throat, as he slipped his tongue inside of your cunt, lapping at the warm spongy walls, groaning as your juices coated his tongue. “Mmm~!!”
Nanami groaned from below you, his face buried deep between your legs as you bobbed up and down, groaning and moaning around his throbbing shaft. Hearing the desperation in you moans, feeling your mouth wrapped so tightly around him, had Nanami moving just as eagerly as you, tongue swirling inside you, the tip rubbing perfectly over that sweet spot deep inside of your, as he reached his hand between your bodies rubbing circles around your clit.
“Mhmm~ fuck~ fuck yes what a good girl~ suckjng my cock so good evening with my tongue buried inside her pussy. Mmm.” Lips replaced his fingers as he sucked on your clit. “Fuck yeah~ mhmm my dirty girl~ suck my cock~ keep it up~ I'm almost there~!”
Your boyfriend dick throbbed deep inside of your mouth as his orgasm crept up on him. He groaned, as you cupped his balls massaging them
In your hands. And that, along with a loud moan around his aching dick has cum filling your mouth. The sweet-salty tang coats your tongue as you try to swallow, but that's a little difficult. Nanami is moaning into your pussy as bucks his hip, losing himself in his orgasm, pulling you down with him.
You cum all over his face, pulling off his dick in a miss of spit and cum. The mess you weren't able to swallow spills all over Nanami's abdomen, as you ride his tongue, crying out his name as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. And your boyfriend, oh he swallows every drop, lapping and flicking his tongue swallowing it down like it was the finest wine in the word. He only gives up his relentless efforts as when you pull away, fighting to free yourself from over stimulation.
“Haaah, haaah-fuck Kento.” you gasp out as he sits up your hip as positing you to sit on his lap with your back against his firm chest. “T-That felt s-so good.”
“Ooh~? Good, because we're just getting started.” his hardening erection rubs over your sore cunt, leaving you staring down in stunned silence: “ooh you didn't think that was your punishment for getting my suit dirty did you?”
“U-Uh—”
“Love, no, that was just a warm up.” he lovingly kissed your cheek turning you to face the mirror on your dresser. “You're in for a long night of making up for the mess you made, by making several messes of your own.”
Forever Tag List:
@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks
#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#jjk#jjk reader smut#jjk gojo smut#jjk geto smut#jjk nanami smut#satoru gojo smut#jjk geto suguru#jujutsu kaisen#nanami kento smut#jjk reader insert#jjk y/n#jjk gojo#jjk men#gojo x reader smut#geto x reader smut#nanami x reader smut#reader jjk#jjk imagines#jjk fanfic#jjk geto#jjk gojo satoru#jjk nanami x reader#jjk gojo x reader#jjk geto x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#nanami smut
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Dreamland (ln4) - Part Six
↳ A/N Here is the promised second part to part 5 since I get so carried away all the time and write too much for Tumblr to handle!!! Excited to hear your thoughts on this one hehe.
↳ Inspired By: 'Grapejuice' by Harry Styles
↳ Summary: George and Alex visit Lando in Monaco for a week that summer. Their visit seems to align perfectly well with the week where yours and Lando's situationship is tested the most
↳ Pairings: Fanboy Lando Norris x Famous!Author!Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n), University Student Lando x Internet Friend George x Internet Friend Alex
↳ Word Count: 11.9k
↳ Warnings: 18+, drinking, brief mentions of sex and similar and related adult endeavors.
PART FIVE || PART SEVEN
Lando was fast asleep the next morning, out like a light, as if he hadn’t slept in days. In the familiar warmth of your California king bed, he was at home in your presence and had been cuddling you close all night from the very moment you returned from the office and got into bed. He felt closer to you than ever and safe by your side.
The movement of you turning around in his embrace had him rousing slightly and you slid your arms around his middle to nuzzle into his neck with a sleepy sigh. He gently rubbed your back and let his fingers tangle in the ends of your hair, touching you delicately and lovingly as you melted into him. Under the covers, your leg gently nudged its way between his just to feel him wrapped up with you as close as possible. He kissed your head.
“Morning, sunshine.” you mumbled sleepily against his warm skin.
“Morning, beautiful.” Lando rubbed your back.
You leaned your head back to get a look at his face but the amount of brightness in the room had you startling, throwing yourself away from him just as he went to lean in for a kiss. Shocked, Lando watched as you threw the blankets off and you snatched your phone from the bedside table.
“Shit!” you gasped. “I’m so late!”
Lando sat up as you jumped out of bed and hurried around the corner to your closet to grab a random outfit in your rush. Still trying to wake up from his incredible sleep, he rubbed his eyes, “What time is it?”
“10:45!” you answered, coming back into the room pulling up your pants with a blouse tossed over your shoulder. “I must have forgotten to set an alarm!”
“I thought you were the boss and can decide when you go in.” Lando countered.
“Not when I have a meeting.” you sighed, clipping your bra and pulling on your shirt over top. “A meeting that started fifteen minutes ago.”
“I don’t want you to go.” Lando pouted. He was slouched back against the pillows and headboard, arms stretching themselves awake above his head and he broke into a small yawn in the process.
“Me neither.” you disappeared into the ensuite to apply the fastest face of makeup and brush your teeth.
Although you were clearly in a rush, Lando felt no need to get up and he pulled your blankets higher around him cozily. He waited for your return, unbothered. You came back into the bedroom not long later, clearly stressed, and Lando sat up a bit more to lean towards you and grabbed your hand.
“Take a breath, sweetheart.”
You didn’t tell him how much that simple sentence made your heart skip a beat.
You merely leaned in and kissed his lips, “I gotta go, baby. Come on, I still have to drive you.”
Lando got out of bed finally and started to dress back in his clothes from the day before, “I can bus back to the hotel.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I know the way. Don’t worry about me.”
“Okay. Thank you.” you said almost guiltily.
Dressed and ready to go in seconds, Lando followed after you out of your bedroom and into the main area of your single-storey penthouse and you grabbed your work bags and slipped into your heels that had been left by the door the previous night. When you were both all ready to go, Lando slid his hand around your waist and pulled you close, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
You let go of the door handle and reached your hand to the back of his neck to kiss him a little more. You were already late. What was a few seconds more?
With you in your heels and Lando in his sneakers, you were an inch taller than him but he adored that about you and his hands around your waist pulled you closer to his body even with the ever so slight tilt to his head to reach your lips. It was the faintest difference but he loved it. He loved you.
“I really gotta go, Lan.” you mumbled against his lips.
“Mhm.” he pulled away. “Just needed that before we have to go out and face society.”
You smiled sweetly and kissed him once more. Then you opened your front door and with the blessing of the late morning air, your façades were put up.
Lando was back at the hotel by 12:00 after a bus ride into downtown. He was walking on air the whole way back to the room and with a proud smile at just the idea of how his friends would react, Lando swiped the key card and the door unlocked.
Inside their shared hotel room, George was lounging back on his bed watching a football game on TV and Alex was standing by the adjacent desk shuffling through his bag. The sound of the door opening had them both looking over to where Lando stepped inside.
“That’s a smug walk of shame if I’ve ever seen one.” George smirked.
Lando just smiled wider and set his key on the dresser beside the tv, making his friends linger on the secrecy just a little longer.
“Okay, spill it.” Alex pressed impatiently.
“We talked…” Lando started slowly, dragging out his explanation syllable by innocent syllable, “I met her at the office after hours to confront her…we ordered dinner and just calmly talked it out.”
George and Alex blinked at him, waiting.
Lando couldn’t hold it back any longer - the smile on his face was just growing impossible to smother, “But only after I fucked the shit out of her all over her office!”
George and Alex burst into teasing laughter infused with proud celebration and Lando took their pride boastfully. He turned to the full length mirror on the hotel room wall and pulled up the bottom of his shirt to glance back at his reflection, showing off the fading red scratches that still lingered from the night before.
“Holy shit!” Alex gaped and took the step over to turn him around to see better, “Lan, that’s your worst one yet.”
George was right beside him in a second, giving Lando’s shoulder a shove, “Jesus, mate!”
“Kid’s growing up.” Alex tisked, slinging an arm around Lando’s shoulders and ruffled his hair.
Lando just laughed and shoved him away.
“It’s good to see you happy again.” George said. Alex agreed easily.
“Yeah, well, it was a good night. In multiple ways.” Lando shrugged, “She really heard me when I explained why I was upset. She’s going to tell Pierre about us this weekend.”
“Oh?” Alex raised his eyebrows, “That’s huge.”
“Stick it to him that you got his girl.” George nodded.
Lando licked away his smile, not wanting to admit that George’s words were exactly what he had been thinking since the moment you had assured him you would tell Pierre about your little situationship. After so much hurt from seeing the two of you together over the prior year or more, Lando finally felt like he was more himself and was going to have a secret little cup of payback where the boyfriend figure that had caused him so much heartbreak and stress was going to get a taste of it right back.
Alex picked up his phone again and smiled down at the screen before typing away, his strange behaviour peaking Lando’s interest.
“What’s with you?” Lando asked. “Why are you so dressed up?”
“Dressed up? Alex looked down at his outfit, “I’m in a t-shirt.”
“And slacks.”
George took his seat back against the headboard again as he sang teasingly, “Alex’s got a date.”
“It’s not a date.” Alex corrected him for the nth time. He didn’t mention to Lando that he had told them where he was going the day before when they were around the pool. Lando had his mind elsewhere then and it was clear he forgot…it was understandable. Instead, he told him again, “Lily and I are going golfing today.”
“Right!” Lando snapped his fingers, “I knew that.”
Alex smiled widely over at him and then looked back to his phone. He was obviously messaging her and George and Lando exchanged glances with their friend’s back turned.
“Anyway,” Alex slid his phone into his pocket and clapped his hands together, “before she gets here, I wanna know all the filthy details from last night.”
“Oh and get your mind all gross before you go out on your first date with this girl? No way.” Lando tisked.
Alex gaped, “What? That doesn’t matter!”
Lando punched his arm, “Hey, I’m doing her a favour by not telling you. Otherwise you will have horrible thoughts in your brain and might try to lunge at her in the front seat of the golf cart.”
George dramatically ‘oooo’ed from a few paces away.
“Oh fuck off.” Alex tried to hide his blush as he turned away from him and pulled out his phone again.
“Are you gonna try and kiss her at least after?” George asked.
“I dunno!” Alex’s defences were up and it was clear by the tone in his voice, “It’s, like, our first time hanging out…that’s really soon. I don’t even know if she likes me like that.”
George pitched his eldest advice, “Well I don’t think her asking you out for lunch and a round of golf gives ‘I like you like a little brother’ vibes.”
“Ew, mate.” Alex scrunched up his face.
“I vote kiss her.” Lando said.
“Same.” George without taking his eyes off the football game that was still playing on the tv.
“Stop, you’re making me nervous.” Alex grumbled, walking past Lando as he pulled his phone out of his pocket again, nervously checking for any notifications from her. With a gasp, he shut them up, “She’s here! How do I look?”
“Sexy.” George answered.
“Hot.” Lando answered at the same time.
“‘Nice’ would have sufficed but thanks.” Alex shook his head. He was too nervous to be dramatic with them. He shared quick daps with his two best friends and then had to hurry out the door without a look back.
Lando had just joined George to watch the football game when his own phone buzzed with a notification and he smiled at your name across his screen.
-I miss you so much. I wish we could have just stayed in bed all day. Meeting is done and I just want to leave and see you. I’m just sitting in my office with vivid memories of how you fucked me last night…I swear this desk smells like you…I’m going crazy. -Lily texted me saying she’s super nervous for this date with Alex…although she made sure to correct me that it wasn’t a date -It’s totally a date -Anyway, that just makes me miss you more. Would be bored out my mind at the golf course but with you I’m sure we’d make it fun -What are your plans tomorrow night? I’m thinking a huge group dinner with all of our friends before the guys have to leave? -Oh and I’m telling Pierre about us tomorrow morning. We have a PR meeting and I plan on telling him before it. The team can’t know but he can -Sorry I’m spamming I miss you -Miss you soooo much -💕💕💕
Lando was absolutely beaming as he read your messages, each one popping up at the bottom of your text thread as he held his phone in his hand. He was grinning so widely that he was almost shining and George shook his head from his spot nearby.
“Great, I’m totally fifth wheeling now.”
Lando was so impatient to see you that he and his two best friends were already waiting at the curb when you pulled up the following evening to drive them to dinner. As usual, Lando claimed shotgun and it took everything in him to stop himself from leaning over and kissing you hello the moment he got in your car. He just shamelessly checked you out from the distance he was at, skimming your tight red dress that rested halfway up your thighs, simply asking him to touch you. He refrained. He was sure he deserved an award for best self control.
For Alex and George’s last night in the city, you were treating them to a classy restaurant known for its social media popularity among artists and influencers alike - but also known for its steak, dessert, and elaborate plate presentation. Lando felt slightly underdressed in his black slacks and t-shirt, made only slightly dressier with a black jacket overtop and finished with a silver chain he borrowed from Alex. With you at his side in a cocktail dress and strappy heels, Lando felt like he should have at least pulled out a button up.
The location wasn’t too far away from the hotel and soon you were pulling into the parking lot beside the glass and wood trimmed restaurant. As usual, you were the first ones to arrive and you lingered in the parking lot in the light of the setting sun as you waited for your friends to join. Alex and George were talking amongst themselves with you and Lando close by although Lando was hardly focused on his friends.
Standing right up at your side, he kept his hands in his pockets but whispered to you honestly, “You look so gorgeous.”
You smiled at him, “Thank you. So do you.”
“Is this outfit okay?” he asked, glancing down at himself.
“Yeah. The jacket is a nice touch.” you tugged gently at the open zipper.
He couldn’t even offer a reply before Alex was calling out to your little group, “Lily is here!”
Oscar’s car pulled into the parking lot only a few short moments after you had and Lily, who was claiming the passenger seat, reached over to honk the horn a few times at the sight of you. Oscar swatted her hand away before focusing on carefully pulling into the empty parking spot next to your Mercedes. You and the guys moved forward to greet your newly arrived friends as they stepped out of the convertible in their own classy outfits that expertly matched the vibes of yours - almost as if it was their job to half the time.
Alex - trying not to make much of a deal - slid casually between you and George to get to Lily first and he almost completely froze up for a second before they met for a quick hug. George snorted. You elbowed him.
After Alex and Lily had gone on their not-date the previous day, you were surprised with a phone call from her once she had returned home by evening. She had told you everything - of course - from how they got along so well that there was hardly even a second of silence between them the entire afternoon as their conversations just flowed so easily. Honestly, she was completely gushing about him to you which only had you smiling proudly through the phone as she told you the details of their trip for ice cream after sharing a game of golf. You could almost hear the blush in her voice as she confessed how he had asked to kiss her at the end of the afternoon and how she let him; both of them sharing their first kisses with each other in the front seat of her car.
Lando and George got similar recaps from Alex around the same time. They were always ones to confide in their best friends.
But now, seeing each other for the first time since their not-date, there was a hint of awkwardness in the air as they were still figuring out where they stood. You and Lando shared knowing little smiles from the back of your small group.
Your little group made your way to the front of the restaurant and Lily and Alex lingered at the back as they talked together. The host led you through the dimly lit restaurant to your reserved table for eight, leaving you with menus and a confirmation with you that anything you need, just let us know…the manager has already alerted staff of your party. It was a bit over the top you thought but you just smiled politely and took to your seat. Lando sat on your right with Alex beside him and Lily on the other end, leaving George and Oscar to sit across from them. There were two seats empty directly across from you and Lando but they were to be filled shortly.
“I’m thinking a bottle of red for the table.” you announced, “Anyone want white or something else too?”
“Whatever you think is best.” Oscar answered.
When your drinks were ordered and the waiter brought over the bottle, pouring you a taste, Lando’s gaze lingered on your red painted lips as you brought your glass to your mouth. He licked his lips slowly as you sipped and then licked your own, giving the waiter a nod with a smile so he could pour everyone a glass and leave the table with the bottle.
You took your time to read over the menus and decide what you all wanted to order, letting the ambiance of the classy restaurant swirl around your warmly lit table. Lando could hardly process the words on his menu because he was trying so hard not to look at you. It was nice to be out with you in public but the constant need to be completely secretive nearly drove him crazy.
Soon, your remaining two friends arrived to complete your reservation. Walking smoothly across the marble floor, two pairs of dress shoes clicked faintly behind the restaurant chatter and, with a handsome blonde on his arm, Charles greeted your group excitedly.
Everyone looked over at them as they approached in their similar neutral toned outfits, perfectly classy and respectable for your chosen dinner venue, and as you and your friends broke into smiles at their arrival, the guys simply stared, mouths slightly open.
It must have slipped your mind to mention to Lando that Charles’s boyfriend was finally going to be returning to town just in time for your dinner. Of course, he had heard about Max from Charles over the duration of the summer and seen the framed pictures on her desk in the office, but nothing compared to the real life essence of the real thing right in front of him. Lando was completely straight - and wholeheartedly dedicated to you, might he add - but he had to admit to himself that he had never seen a more stunning man in all twenty-one years of his life.
“Max!” you almost cheered, hopping out of your seat to rush over to greet them.
Max smiled warmly at you and offered out his one arm that wasn’t claimed by his boyfriend to welcome your friendly hug. It only lasted for a second or two before you were all returning to the table and as Max took his spot across from Lando, Charles was gladly placing himself in the seat beside.
You briefly introduced Max to the guys, finishing with a passé touch to Lando’s arm when you introduced him third. Best for last, subconsciously. From the spot across from him, Max let a little smile play at his lips as he eyed up Lando.
“I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Lando’s eyes widened, “I- What?”
Max, with his arm around the back of Charles’ chair, said, “This one has kept me updated on everything that has been going on since I’ve been gone.”
Lando was suddenly going pink in the cheeks at the concept that Charles could have told him everything. It was lucky for him that the restaurant lighting was so dim.
As if playing it off, Max followed up, “How’s the job?”
Lando cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, “It’s…really great.”
“I bet.” Max picked up his wine glass and took a sip, peaking one of his brows over the edge in Lando’s direction.
He totally knew more than he let on.
Changing the subject, you asked eagerly, “How was Paris, Max?”
“Beautiful.” Max answered, his voice rich and full, “I was lucky I could see some sights between work.”
Alex piped up, “What do you do for work?”
Max only smiled modestly but Charles answered proudly for him, patting his hand against his chest, “He’s a model.”
“Shit.” George gaped.
“Believable, right?” Oscar said with a smirk.
“Yep, front page of Cartier’s spring collection will be this handsome face.” Charles bragged.
Max kissed his cheek.
Lando watched their obvious shows of affection with wide eyes, unfamiliar with such displays, and he looked over at you as if to check to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. You glanced back at him and shared a brief smile. He could see the way your eyes dropped briefly to his lips as if wanting to kiss him too. You couldn’t. You turned back to your friends, picking up your glass of wine.
The waiter returned to take orders and as you all waited for appetizers to arrive, conversation returned to Max’s travels and all that he accomplished in Paris between studio shoots and on-location shoots…interviews, promo, and ceremonies. He promised that next time he would go, he would go for leisure; to which he added a casual drape of his arm around the back of Charles’ chair and a sweet compliment that he would take him with him. He spoke of creating art at the base of the Eiffel Tower, tea in the picturesque cafés…Lando was envious, his heart aching for that too. He looked back at you, staring at the way you rested your chin in your hand and watched with admiration how the lovebirds spoke together.
“But for now I’m just happy to have you home.” Charles said adoringly.
Max leaned into his touch, “First person I looked for when I got off the plane.”
Oscar’s little teasing gag from the other end of the table had you all chuckling and Max only scooted his chair closer to his boyfriend and draped his arm around him.
Charles smiled over at Lando’s obvious staring, “Yeah, you’re going to be seeing a lot of him around the office now.”
Max nodded, his expression scarily serious, “Going to make sure you stay on task.”
Lando offered a slightly nervous laugh.
The appetisers arrived shortly after and you all took a moment to begin eating, the clatter of cutlery filling your table rather than conversation. Lando couldn’t help but keep looking at you, watching the way you rested your napkin on your lap or the gentle way you poured your dressing over the salad in front of you. He looked down to his own bowl and nudged a piece of lettuce with his fork.
With a smile, you directed to your friends across from you, “Well I’m glad that you allowed your first date back together to be with all of us.”
“Of course. All my favourite people.” Charles said easily.
“And we have lots of time for our own dates.” Max added, his hand on his thigh gently caressing him, “We are visiting the art museum tomorrow, right, darling?”
Lily spoke up, “I haven’t been in so long. I hear they have a new photography exhibit.”
“Yes! That is what encouraged me to buy tickets.” Max agreed with a smile.
“Speaking of dates though…” Charles faded out, offering a smirk in Lily’s direction, “Anything you want to share with the table?”
Everyone looked over. Alex cleared his throat.
“I hear it went well.” you added, sending Charles a little smile from across the table.
“Shut up.” Lily snapped, although her tone was more embarrassed than upset.
You leaned forward to look down to her end of the group, “Oh come on, everyone at this table knows.”
“Little golfing…little ice cream…little kissing…” George sang teasingly.
“Okay.” Alex laughed nervously.
“I guess the date was,” you giggled, “a hole in one.”
The table groaned at your horrible pun but Lando just licked away his smile and glanced over at you. You peaked a brow at him as if to say ‘impressive, right?’ and he just laughed softly and shook his head. Your hand on his thigh startled him slightly, unprepared for any sort of touch from you, and he dropped his hand on top of yours for a moment as the table continued harassing poor Alex and Lily about their date. Lando gave your hand a squeeze for a second before you were pulling away to be just as inconspicuous as you were expected to be.
Appetizers came and went and soon you were awaiting the entrees. The bottle of red wine was emptied and replaced by the waiter and you were well onto your second glass by then, poured by Lando’s own hand for you while he topped up his own.
Despite the conversation that lingered among your group, Lando was more focused on the private moments between Charles and Max across from him. He tried not to stare but it was hard when they were everything he wanted to be with you. Whether it was their hand holding or sharing fleeting kisses or even the way one would wipe the corner of the other’s mouth free of sauce with the edge of his napkin, Lando just wanted that to be him and you. You seemed oblivious though as your focus was on George who was deep in explanation about something Lando had already heard probably twice over. Lando sipped his wine.
Lando was hooked on the way Charles and Max interacted. Their sweetness nearly made him equal parts smiley and jealous. He only imagined it to be you and how maybe one day he would be able to kiss you at dinner or feed you dessert from his fork like the perfect pair. He was so in his head that he didn’t realize he had already cut through his steak until the knife screeched against the plate, earning displeased words from the group. He stuffed the bite in his mouth without saying anything else.
“Can I steal a fry, mon cœur?” Charles gestured to his boyfriend’s plate.
He nodded, “Of course, darling.”
Lando set his fork down and tried to distract himself with his food. He skimmed the table for the salt and then nudged your arm gently, “Can you pass the salt, sweetheart?”
The whole table literally stopped what they were doing and looked at him in shock, silence falling quickly over your group.
Lando’s cheeks burned as he stared at your wide, warning eyes.
“I-I mean-” Lando cleared his throat, “Not sweet- because it’s salt…I’m…”
Alex snorted from his other side, “Nice save.”
You grabbed the salt and passed it to him. Lando lowered his voice quickly, “I’m sorry- it just slipped out.”
“We can’t afford slip ups, Lan, come on.” you whispered back, glancing around at the nearby tables just to make sure no strangers had heard. You might have been a little paranoid.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
You set your hand on his knee under the table, “It’s okay.”
Lando salted his steak a little before grabbing his wine glass and finishing the last bit in one long sip, trying not to focus on the way your touch burned across his skin. George smothered his smile at him from across the table, hiding it behind a bite of his own dinner.
Max had inquired about how your work was going and you spoke to it happily, explaining how your writing was progressing and the few meetings you had booked for the next week. Lando could have listened to you talk about your passion for writing for hours. The way you lit up just made his eyes turn to hearts. Your writing was how he fell in love with you after all, and nothing was more special to him than that.
You set a hand on his arm, “But of course, my wonderful intern here has been an incredible help this summer.”
All knowing about your little situationship, your friends all shared little ‘ooo’s and smiles.
You looked over at Lando who was already staring at you and you spoke to the table as you looked right at him, “Even willing to stay late some nights…get some extra work done.”
“Anything for you.” Lando whispered.
You sent him a little wink.
“Hopefully it’s enjoyable work.” Charles pressed.
“Never done anything better.” Lando answered smoothly.
“Yeah, because you’ve never done anything before.” George dissed.
The table filled with laughter and Lando only rolled his eyes, suppressing the desire to throw George’s virginity back in his face like always. He wanted to be good for you.
Alex held out a fake microphone to Lando at his side, “No rebuttal?”
Lando leaned towards nothing in his hand, “Nope. I’m being the bigger man.”
“Yeah, you are.” you said in a little sing-song voice, earning teasing laughter from your friends and a furious blush from Lando who still managed to smile at you despite your words. Only you knew the boundaries enough to push them.
A clatter from across the table tore your attention away from Lando’s longing stare to Charles and Max’s slight worry as he tended to his shirt with his napkin.
“Oh no…I’m so sorry, schatje.” Max cooed, “Come on, I’ll sort you out.”
With nothing less than a grin, Charles took his hand as he stood up and Max helped him to his feet. Charles’ barely visible spill on the front of his shirt peaked your brow as you sipped your wine and watched them walk off hand in hand towards the bathroom.
Lily tutted with a light laugh, “Typical.”
Lando looked between her and you, his expression stagnant.
You only rolled your eyes with a knowing smile and set your glass back on the table so you could lean towards him to whisper, “They’re going to get each other off in the bathroom.”
His eyes widened and he stared off in the direction that they had disappeared in and then he looked back at you as you finished your meal. Your short tight dress and gentle smile had him craving to touch you all night and your friends’ obvious displays of affection were doing nothing to help calm his feelings. Their sneak-off only felt to be the weight on his chest moreso.
Lando poured you both another glass of wine.
He didn’t mean to time them, but Lando checked his phone once he saw Charles and Max heading back towards the table through the tightly seated restaurant, his heart only aching at the fifteen minutes that had passed and how much he knew he could do to you in that time. He couldn’t help himself but slide his hand under the table to rest over your lap and you scooted your chair closer to the edge so he was hidden by the tablecloth.
Lando took that as your permission and he inched up the hem of your dress ever so slowly as your group was completed again and you greeted your once missing friends casually. Oscar and Lily exchanged little knowing smirks from across the table and the waiter began to clear the empty dishes. Lando tried to look casual but he couldn’t not look at you and he slipped his hand up your short dress and slid them between your snug thighs to feel your lacey panties nestled warmly there. He wanted to take you to the bathroom next.
But instead, you discreetly nudged his hand away and he was forced to return to his solitude at a table full of partners. He was forced to watch as Charles and Max fed each other spoonfuls of dessert and as Alex and Lily spoke excitedly about their shared interests and as George and Oscar were in lighthearted friendly discussion about the last Formula 1 race weekend. Lando was so damn antsy.
Once everyone had finished their dessert, you paid the bill in full and everyone got up to head out to their cars. Lily and Alex led the group in their own little world of two, with you and Charles and Oscar and George pulling second in some deep conversation Lando wasn’t listening to. He took his time gathering his things and followed after you, trying not to stare at the way your dress hugged your ass with each step in your heels.
The presence of someone at his side startled him slightly and he looked over to see Max standing beside him. Only an inch or so taller than him, Max smiled at him and walked alongside him at the back of your group towards the Monte Carlo evening.
“So, how are you really doing?” Max asked.
“Oh…I’m fine.” Lando answered politely, unable to even really meet his eye with how unbelievably intimidating this man was.
“Really? You seemed kind of on edge all night.” Max mentioned, sliding his hands in the pocket of his fitted dress slacks.
Lando just shrugged, “Nah, it’s nothing. Just hard that we can’t be as mushy as you and Charles when we’re out.”
Max smiled as if he already knew that was going to be the answer, “I get that. Having a job in the public eye isn’t easy. She must really like you if she’s risking so much to stick with you…even when it’s hard to keep it under wraps.”
“I guess.”
They stepped out onto the sidewalk with the rest of your group and you all kept in your little sections to finish up your individual conversations before you would all have to go your separate ways. Max stuck with Lando to the side, offering him insight from his own experience that his best friends couldn’t offer him.
“Charles and I started a similar way.” Max explained quietly, “I was so paranoid of how my followers would see me and how the press would react…it took a while to feel comfortable with myself to be able to take it public. It’s nothing personal so don’t think she’s ashamed of you. Believe me, I know her well, she talks about you more often than she doesn’t.”
As he listened to the advice, Lando let his gaze drift the few paces away to where you stood and you glanced back at him to share a little warm smile before turning back to your friends and your loud, boisterous conversation. You sparkled in the street light under the city-polluted starry sky. Lando looked back to Max.
“Thanks, mate.” he mumbled, “I just really, really like her. I might even love her, y’know?”
Max smirked knowingly, tilting his head slightly to stare down his nose at Lando, waiting for him to go on.
“And I just wanna be able to show her.”
“It’s not all about public displays.” Max explained, “You can show her that you love her in so many other ways. And when the time is right, it will happen. But you don’t need it. You two still looked like the cutest couple in the whole damn restaurant without even trying.”
Lando nodded and there was a pause between them. Then, he added, just to cover his bases, “And please don’t tell her that I told you that I love her. I haven’t exactly told her yet.”
“She knows.” Max said. “The way you look at her? She’s got to know.”
From a few paces away, right on time, you called out, “Lando!”
He turned over his shoulder to you, spotting you bathed in the light of the restaurant entrance and the smile you wore was just as beautiful as your dress. You waved him over, ready to go.
He grinned right back, “Coming!”
Lando turned to Max once more who gave him a pat on the shoulder and one last knowing smile before saying, “Now go get her.”
“Thanks.” Lando exhaled giddily, refueled with energy after the little motivational speech from his newly acquainted. He called his goodnights to the rest of your group of friends as Charles returned to Max’s side, and then he was hurrying after you towards your car.
You were climbing into the driver's seat of your Mercedes when Lando joined you and he helped himself to the passenger side. The doors were shut behind you and the world fell to silence as the outdoors was muffled slightly and you breathed a sigh of relief of being back to just the two of you and away from the prying public in the restaurant.
“Did you have a good evening?” you asked him as you turned your key in the ignition.
“Yeah. Dinner was amazing. Thank you.” he answered easily.
You turned on the air conditioning faintly to cut the heat from the Monaco summer that raged around you but you left your car in park. You looked over at him, “You seemed quiet tonight, is everything okay?”
Lando just smiled at you and your concern and he nodded, “Yes. I’m fine.”
You hesitated a moment as if not believing him but you passed it off, knowing he would come to you if he needed, “Okay.”
“How was your talk with Pierre?” Lando asked, his curiosity getting the better of him and overpowering the craving he felt for you.
You smiled over at him, “It went so well.”
“Yeah?” Lando’s heart raced with hopefulness.
“Yeah. He said he’s happy for us…said he’s glad I found someone who can keep up with me.”
Lando held his hand out to you under the line of the dashboard, “Always.”
You rested your hand in his and your fingers intertwined.
“I feel lighter now that I told him.” you confessed. “I think it was really eating at me. I don’t know why. Maybe now it just proves that he is past…and you are my present.”
“And your future hopefully.” Lando breathed.
You gave his hand a squeeze, “Yes.”
“I’ve wanted to kiss you all night since the second I saw you…now only moreso.”
“Yeah?” you let a small smile come to your face and he watched how you licked your red painted lips through the hazy warm light that dusted your silhouettes in the night air.
“Hated watching Charles and his boyfriend like that all evening when I couldn’t do the same with you.” he whispered.
“I know.” you agreed quietly, “And not even just the little things…I kinda wanted to sneak off with you too. Is that weird?”
“Not weird at all.” Lando shook his head easily, “I did too.”
You giggled softly, keeping your gazes locked and your hands in each other’s on your lap, and you lifted your head from where it had been resting against the driver's seat and you shifted slightly so your body was turned more towards his. There were a few seconds of silence between you where you just stared at each other with calm and content smiles on your lips and his thumb rubbed over your knuckles.
“You called me ‘sweetheart’.” you said softly.
“You are my sweetheart.” he replied just as gently.
“I like when you call me that.” you admitted, keeping the hushed voice between you even if it were only the two of you around in the security of your car. “It’s cute…makes me all blushy.”
“Mhm?” he raised his free hand up to stroke the back of his finger over your warm cheek and he tucked your hair behind your ear.
You smiled at him and shuffled slightly to lean towards him a bit more, letting him trace the features of your face with a gentle touch. He knew you like the back of his hand - he was infatuated with you after all - but he lingered on every inch of you like he had to memorize you all over again. Your skin was warm from the alcohol and your strong feelings, and your eyes fluttered shut peacefully, wholeheartedly trusting of him.
“I want to kiss you.” you breathed, a common sentence between you since the moment he landed in Monaco at the beginning of the summer. It acted as a placeholder for dozens upon dozens of kisses that could not be completed due to your public standing.
“I always want to kiss you.” Lando answered, dropping his hand from your face as he leaned against his seat, the both of you facing towards each other in the front seat.
You pondered a moment before speaking quietly, “Kiss me.”
Lando chuckled, “Take me home then.”
“Kiss me now.” you ordered.
Lando’s eyebrows furrowed for a second and he glanced out the dashboard to the half full restaurant parking lot that you were in the middle of, the only sign of life being Oscar, Lily, Alex, and George in the distance, still lingering by the front doors of the restaurant together. He looked back at you. Your eyes were open and you were staring at him.
“Kiss me, Lando.” you repeated.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his heart hammering in his chest.
“Yes. Come on. Please?” you reached out a hand to rest against his chest, fingers grasping onto the front of his black t-shirt. “Kiss me.”
He raised his hand back to your face, cradling your jaw in his hand as he moved in smoothly and pressed his lips to yours before you could change your mind. You hummed happily against his mouth as you shared a few single lingering kisses before you were parting his lips with your own and tugging at his shirt to get him closer. He leaned half over the centre console and you did the same, pushing your tongue against his between deep sensual kisses that filled his cravings so perfectly.
He could taste the rich red wine on your tongue and your lips and he held your head close to linger on the flavour, sucking gently on your bottom lip until you moaned into his mouth and tangled your hand in the back of his hair. Tilting his head to the opposite side, he guided you to follow him and your fingers that were laced with his still on your lap only gave his hand a little squeeze to share your appreciation with how he took control. So much had changed in a few short months.
“Lando…” you breathed between kisses, your words swallowed up by his lips once more.
“Sweetheart.” he replied back, knowing exactly what he was doing with a smile to his tone of sweet buttery voice.
The way you inhaled shakily into his kiss had him chuckling lowly between wet kisses, his thumb drifting around your throat to choke you slightly - just how you liked it - as he took the breath from your lungs. Maybe it was the faint alcohol in your system or maybe it was the wholehearted hold he had on your heart but you were dizzy. With your fingers pressing into the back of his neck, you shoved your tongue into his mouth desperately, your heart racing on the riskiness of your steamy late night makeout and Lando’s hand tightened around your throat.
“Oh my God, I missed you.” you whimpered against his mouth, even though it had only been a day since you had seen each other.
“I missed you so much.” Lando replied breathily.
You moaned happily against his kiss and let him lick his way into your mouth until your kisses were growing faster, more desperate, and you were absolutely burning for him. You could have ripped his clothes off right then and there in the front seat of your car.
A snap of blinding light startled you out of your lust-filled trance and a quick second one had you pulling away from his lips in slightly confusion, only to be bombarded with a wave of camera flashes and shutters through the glare of your windshield. Lando didn’t know what was happening at first - for a second he swore he was seeing the gates of heaven - but your sudden panic solved any of his confusion.
Your hand tore from his and you ducked yourself behind your steering wheel, “Fuck! Oh my God!”
Lando stared out the windshield, squinting in the floods of lights and shouts, until you grabbed the chain around his neck and yanked him down with you to hide behind the dashboard the best you could. The panic in your face was terrifying and he simply stared dumbly at you, not knowing what to do or say.
You fumbled with your purse as there were knocks at your window and cameras pressed against the glass and you struggled to pull out your phone. But Oscar - who was thankfully still on site across the parking lot - had already seen what was going on. It was hard to miss.
He wasn’t an overly confrontational person but he took his job seriously and when part of his job called for protecting you and your image? You best bet he was on it.
George, Lily, and Alex had to nearly run to keep up with his quick pace across the parking lot to the crowd of paparazzi that had seemed to come out of nowhere and swarm your car. Shouting questions at you as the flashes of their cameras blinded you, the group wasn’t overly large but enough to overwhelm you and you kept Lando ducked down until the cameras slowed and Oscar was at your window. The moment you rolled it down, questions were shouted at you again (“Whos that?” “Where’s Pierre?” “Are you cheating on your boyfriend?”) but you were only focused on Oscar who leaned into your car with Lily right at his side - and Alex and George acting like their personal shields the best they could. Lando met his friends’ gaze and they didn’t know what to do.
“Back out of here.” Oscar told you firmly. “Just drive, okay? Text me when you get home. Go.”
You nodded and rolled up your window, keeping yourself ducked down the best you could as you shifted your car into reverse and backed out of the parking spot as smoothly as you could, your engine roaring loudly as you nearly floored it out of the lot and onto the street. Lando peered out the window at the disappearing parking lot and Alex and George standing helpless with furious Oscar and Lily who were cursing off the paparazzi.
He turned forward in his seat again, staring wide-eyed out the front window. Did that really happen? Neither of you spoke a word the whole way back to your house. Lando certainly didn’t want to make the first move since the pale colouration of your grief stricken face was enough to stun him into complete silence.
In fact, no words were spoken until you were safely in your apartment. Lando had to nearly run after you as you stalked out of the car and into the elevator and then through your front door, tossing the keys on the kitchen island on your way in. Lando shut the front door behind you both.
“I-” he started.
“I’m fucked.” you cut him off, turning back to him as you pushed an emotional hand through your hair. You were trembling. “I’m so fucked!”
“Baby-”
Pacing the floor, you could hardly breathe and your shaking hands were tugging at the roots of your hair, rambling anxiously to him as your voice quivered with emotion, “I could I be so stupid? I’ve been so careful for years to protect my image…my career…I shouldn’t have had so much wine tonight. I shouldn’t have been so stupid. They had a clear fucking view. That’s going to be everywhere tomorrow morning. There’s going to be a picture of your tongue in my mouth on the international fucking news tomorrow morning…I’m so dead.”
Lando didn’t even know what to say to comfort you so he offered the only thing he could think of to say, “I’m sorry.”
You stood in front of him and took a shaky breath before letting it out with a flat, “It’s not your fault.”
“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“I asked you to.”
“So? I still shouldn’t have done it.”
You held your face in your hands, crying out a weak, “Oh, God, Lando.”
“It’s okay.” Lando moved closer and wrapped you up in his arms, “It’s going to be okay.”
He didn’t dare tell you the slight selfish excitement that thudded in his chest that maybe this was the chance that he would be able to go public with you. Maybe it wasn’t ideal if you were forced out but it might have been the push you needed. You sniffed back your forming tears and let your arms snake around his waist, tucking your face in his neck as he rubbed your back to try and ease your stresses.
“I’m gonna be in so much trouble.” you mumbled.
“From who?”
“My management team…PR…all of them. I’m going to have to make a statement and somehow cover this up.” you pulled away from him as the anxieties rose again in your chest. “Oh God.”
“Just breathe for a second, sweetheart.” Lando whispered, taking your hand, “What good is it going to do to just stress out before anything-”
Your phone rang from your purse and you hurried to pull it out, answering it right away as you saw Oscar’s name on the screen and you put it on speaker, “Hello?”
“Hey. Did you get home?” he asked.
“Yeah, sorry. Just a few seconds ago. I’m kinda flipping my shit.” you answered, rubbing your temples tiredly.
“Don’t. I got them to delete it.”
Your entire expression changed and you and Lando shared wide glances. You looked back to your phone, “What?”
“Yeah. Lily and I made them delete the pictures in front of us. They’re gone. You’re good.”
“Oh, Osc.” you whimpered, slumping onto one of the kitchen island stools, “Fuck, mate, I could kiss you.”
“I think enough kissing has been done tonight.” he laughed softly, trying to lighten the situation.
Lando smiled slightly.
“I owe you one.” you said.
Osacr tisked, “No way. It’s just my job. And you’re my best friend.”
“I wonder how they knew we were there.” you wondered aloud.
Lando scuffed the toe of his shoe on the floor, mumbling quietly, “Maybe Pierre tipped them off for a revenge plot.”
You nudged him playfully, “Pierre would not tip them off.”
“No way.” Oscar added through the phone. “This was probably just a fluke. It’s a popular place.”
“True.” you sighed.
“You okay?” Oscar asked.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Get some rest, okay?”
“You too. You did good work, Osc.”
“Thanks.”
There was a muffled voice in the background through the phone.
Oscar spoke again, “Oh and Alex and George want to know if Lando’s coming back to the hotel tonight.”
You and Lando looked at each other but he waited to let you answer since it was your house after all. You answered them without taking your eyes off him, “No. I’m keeping him tonight. I’m gonna need serious de-stress cuddles after this little event.”
Oscar passed on the message and as he did so, Lando stepped closer to you and brushed his fingers through your hair, letting you lean forward to rest your cheek against his chest. You said your good nights to your friends and then your phone was turned off, leaving you and Lando alone.
Wrapping your arms around his middle, you let out a deep breath to let your tension melt away and you shut your eyes tightly to just hold onto him a little longer. Lando scratched his fingers gently through your hair and his other hand rubbed over your back and shoulders, letting you take as long as you needed right there.
“Feeling better?” Lando asked you quietly.
You nodded against his body.
“Want me to help you get into bed?”
You sniffled and held him a little tighter around the waist, “I don’t want you to go.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” he chuckled, “You have me all night, remember?”
“No, I mean I don’t want you to go home. To England.”
Lando had been trying not to think about it as the summer was approaching its end and that meant he was soon to return to his rainy home country and leave sunny Monaco behind. Leave you behind. He had only three weeks left.
“I have a whole three weeks left.” he said, trying his best to comfort you. Your sadness over the idea of him leaving was slightly comforting, feeling validated that you cared about him just as much as he cared about you.
“Too short.” you mumbled.
“Let’s not think about that right now.”
“Okay.”
He brushed your hair over your shoulders and down your back, petting your head gently. You held him tightly and buried your face in his chest.
The ‘I love you’ was frozen on his tongue.
As you had anticipated, the three weeks nearly flew by. Alex and George went home only one day after your group dinner, leaving Lando to face the remainder of his stay alone again. But he wasn’t totally alone since he spent almost every day with you. The last week was a little touch and go as you kept putting off your after-work plans without much of an explanation and Lando was starting to feel a little worried that he was going to have to face his last week mostly alone. The girls didn’t seem to offer him much comfort, only shrugging and assuring him that you had deadlines to meet and those waited for no one.
But his last day he spent with you, ordering food together on Friday night and eating in your bed while watching a movie before cuddling the night away. You didn’t eat much that night and it was apparent that his impending departure was weighing on you, he was sure. Even still, you didn’t leave his side and you slept cuddled up in his arms well into Saturday morning. Well, to him you slept soundly. In reality, you were awake most of the night, just listening to his heartbeat and his breaths and the thoughts swirling in your mind.
His flight was in mid-afternoon so it gave you some time to wake up in the morning and stop at a café for breakfast before returning to his hotel to gather the last of his things. You were quiet on the drive across the city and Lando held your hand as you drove. Your teeth were stuck in your bottom lip as if they were permanently meant to be there. He gave your hand a squeeze.
In his hotel room, you sat on the end of the second bed that had been George and Alex’s for only a week while you watched Lando pack up his things. Time was ticking and Lando’s dread was only rising with the minutes that passed. He didn’t want to leave you but part of him was also stressed about missing his flight. He was lingering in this weird emotional purgatory. In all honesty, he didn’t want to face an emotional goodbye with you that would inevitably make him cry. So he tried not to think about it - he didn’t even want to look at you as you sat there quietly and let him pack - and he busied himself.
“Lan?” you called softly, your voice faint.
He didn’t answer, tucking his socks and underwear in his suitcase.
“Lando?” you tried again, a little louder.
“I know, I should put the bigger things in first.” he said, turning back to the dresser to open the next drawer down and take out his stack of jeans and pants. “I’m just going drawer by drawer…I don’t totally care.”
“Lando, can I-”
“I don’t think I should have bought so many clothes here…I don’t know how they’re all going to fit in this suitcase under fifty pounds.” he rambled, starting to empty out all the drawers onto the bed first to see what he was dealing with.
You stayed sitting on the opposite bed. He didn’t look at you because he could already feel himself getting a little choked up.
He moved to the closet and opened the doors to take his few things off the hangers, “Maybe I should wear layers? Or leave my underwear and socks behind…those are cheap. Mom can buy me new ones. I guess that’s the good thing of still living at home, right?”
He didn’t wait for an answer as he returned to his bed and started to messily shove things inside. You didn’t have an answer to give him. You stayed quiet for a few seconds, just watching him pack ungracefully.
Lando tried to fold things as small as he could get them but he was emotional and his mind was muddled and he ended up just jamming stuff wherever it fit. He huffed.
You stood from the end of the opposite bed, “Lando, please, can I just-”
He walked away quickly and into the bathroom, “I need my wash stuff.”
You lingered where you stood in the centre of the room and that’s where you were when he returned, glancing at you for a brief second before he was shoving his zipped up toiletry kit into his suitcase too. He didn’t look at you long enough to see how you were wringing your hands together.
“Razor…toothbrush…hairbrush…” Lando muttered to himself, “Maybe I should snag some of the hotel’s free sample things.”
He hurried back into the bathroom. On his way back out, you tried again.
“Please, can I just say one thing?”
“Is it silly to bring the hotel soaps home?” he asked, shoving them in his suitcase anyway, “They’re kinda cute…shaped like little leaves.”
“Lando.” you said strongly.
“Oh, I need my chargers.”
He passed by you again.
“Lando.” you strained.
“I think my passport is in the safe with my laptop. Can’t forget those.”
“Lando.” your voice broke slightly.
He stuffed his laptop and his chargers into his backpack, struggling with how his hands were shaking, “I didn’t know I had so much stuff. Monte Carlo makes a guy materialistic, huh?”
Emotionally, you crumpled to the ground in frustration, knees to your chest, crying out in defeat, “Lando, please.”
Your sudden drop had him turning right to you, startled by the way you just burst into tears on the floor, your face in your palms as you completely sobbed. He dropped whatever he was holding and knelt in front of you quickly and pulled your hands from your face to guide you into a hug, making you hold onto him as you cried.
“Baby.” he cooed, rubbing your back, struggling to hold back his own tears, “Don’t cry.”
“Just stop packing for a second.” you said softly, your voice quivering.
“Okay. I’m here.” Lando promised. “I’m here.”
“I need to talk to you.” you mumbled against his shoulder.
“You had all night to talk to me.” he chuckled, leaning back slightly so you could move out of your embrace and he could look at your face properly.
“I was going to tell you something last night but I got scared…I was going to tell you five days ago but I put it off and now it’s last minute and…God, I’m such a pussy.” you tisked, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes.
Lando gently took your wrists and guided your hands away so he could hold them in his own, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles, “No, you’re not. What is it?”
Your bottom lip trembled as you looked at him, your vision blurred with tears, and he tried so desperately to read your expression, trying not to psych himself out that you were ending things with him or any other worst case scenario that could have been playing on your mind. Your mouth tried to form words but no sound came out minus a little squeak of anxiety that had Lando chuckling nervously.
“What is it, you muppet?” he encouraged you sweetly, “You can tell me anything.”
You sniffled and silent tears trailed down your cheeks, unable to compose yourself enough to say what you needed to say.
Trying to keep it light for your sake, he bounced your joined hands against your thighs gently, “What? Are you pregnant or something?”
The way your breath caught in your throat and your entire body tensed up had his lighthearted smile faltering for a second. You tore your gaze from his and looked to your lap almost shamefully. Neither of you moved for a moment.
“You’re…not…are you?” Lando asked hesitantly.
A fresh wave of tears came over you and you slumped against the front of the dresser on the floor, tearing your hands from his to hold your face in your palms as you cried.
Lando breathed our name, his eyes as wide as saucers and his face as white as paper, “Don’t play with me right now. Are you serious?”
You nodded into your hands.
“You’re pregnant?” he repeated, “For real? Like…confirmed?”
You sniffled and pulled your phone from your pocket and he waited impatiently as you opened your photos app and then passed it over to him to see. The picture on the screen was of your bathroom counter with three positive pregnancy tests in a row in the centre. Lando blinked. He zoomed in. The three pairs of pink lines were clear as day. He blinked again. Was this real?
“Is this real?”
You nodded into your hands, almost scared to look at him.
“I-” Lando stared at the picture for a second longer and then looked at you, “Are you…What are you going to do?”
You sniffled and dropped your hands to your lap between your bent knees, “I cannot have a kid right now.”
Lando's heart stopped at that statement. It was ultimately your decision but he did not want to lose his chance at having a little family with you. He waited for you to continue.
“But I can’t get rid of it.” you mumbled. “I don’t want…I can’t do that.”
“That’s okay.” Lando breathed.
He honestly felt dizzy - like the entire situation was a dream. Your voice sounded a little echoey and he pinched his thigh to bring himself back to his true reality, trying to focus on your obviously distraught expression.
“I’m scared.” you admitted softly, your trembling voice barely audible.
“Hey,” Lando scooted closer to you to sit at your side against the dresser and he wrapped his arm around your shoulders to pull you in towards him, pressing a kiss to your temple, “No reason to be scared. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”
You nodded and leaned your head against his and his hand found yours, lacing your fingers together lovingly. His other hand still held your phone with the picture on the screen and he couldn’t stop staring at it in complete disbelief.
“You are going somewhere. You’re going home.” you mumbled.
Lando’s heart sank, “Yeah…”
“I don’t even know what we are.” you whispered. “This whole time…I don’t know what we are. Are we just fuck buddies or…are we, like, something more…?”
Lando stared down at your intertwined hands, having so much information thrown at him in the span of a few moments that his mind was whirling. His momentary silence had you slightly panicked.
You spoke again as if to pitch your case, “Because I really have been feeling like both of us have wanted more but I didn’t want to step out of line or scare you or anything by asking…in case you didn’t feel the same…but part of me always thought that maybe you did and I was just being silly and-”
Lando raised his hand to press his finger against your jaw and turned your face towards his, capturing your lips with his to shut you up with a kiss. You instantly melted into him and your soft sigh as he finally pulled away from your few chasté kisses was almost enough to ease his own consciousness.
“I’ve wanted all of you since the moment I knew your name.” he promised. “I want as much as you’re willing to give me…whatever you want to be. You hold the cards.”
“I just want you.” you confessed, holding his hand in both of yours as you leaned into him adoringly, “I want to really be yours. For real.”
Lando licked his lips as he stared at you, feeling as though he were treading in dangerous waters and pressing his luck, “So…do you want to be my girlfriend?”
You bit back your grin at his shy question, “Well you already got me pregnant so it would be a bit dumb of me to say no.”
“Oh my God.” Lando breathed. His words were punctuated by your lips pressing against his again and you shared a few quick kisses. Reality seemed to settle around him and he tilted his head back to break your kiss, huffing out almost panicky to the ceiling, “You’re pregnant.”
“Yeah.” you mumbled.
Lando pressed his finger against his chest, “You’re having my baby? Mine?”
“Yeah. I told you…there was no one else.”
Lando’s eyes were as wide as saucers and he stared at you dumbly, unblinking, his index finger still pressed against his chest.
You sighed, “I know this isn’t ideal…I’m so busy and you’re still in school getting your degree and we don’t even live in the same country. I get it if you just kinda wanna do your own thing. I don’t need money from you or anything.”
“Hey, no.” Lando grabbed your hands again, “Don’t even say that. I want to be a part of this with you. More than anything, okay? More than anything.”
“You sure?” you pouted, “Because I really don’t want you to think that I’m trapping you in a life that you don’t want.”
“Life that I don’t want?” Lando gaped, “Holy shit, baby, I’ve dreamt about having a family with you since the second I hit that ‘follow’ button on Instagram, are you kidding?”
“Oh my God, really?” you laughed wetly at his confession, sniffling back your tears.
“I promise. I’m not going anywhere.” he swore and shifted onto his knees to pull you into a hug again, “Not even if you forced me.”
Your arms wrapped easily around his shoulders and you dipped your face into his neck, letting him feel the warmth of your body with his on the hotel room floor. He could feel your heavy heartbeat through your chest and against his own and he gently caressed your hair and breathed you in, the smell of you that grew so familiar over the summer. The news was dream-like and he was still having a hard time wrapping his mind around it but holding you in his arms just made it feel so easy and so right.
He had to say it.
“I love you.”
Your arms tightened around him and your fingers clutched the back of his shirt as you let out a small sob into his neck, “Oh God…I love you.”
Lando shut his eyes tightly and choked back his own wave of tears, your voice saying that simple sentence to him meaning more to him than you would ever know.
“That’s so scary.” you sniffed quietly after a moment.
He sat back slightly so he could look at you and he brushed your hair from your face, “What is?”
You shrugged, looking down at your lap where you were picking at your nails, “Love? I dunno…it sounds silly.”
“It’s not silly.” Lando assured you easily, “It’s a lot to trust someone with. But I love you for trusting me.”
You cracked a small smile and he tilted your chin up again so he could press a damp kiss to your lips through your shared emotions.
“And even more because you’re having my baby.” he whispered, almost disbelieving, but he bit back his excited grin as he spoke the words he once only dreamt of.
“Yeah.” you smiled sweetly and slid your hands into his.
Sitting in front of each other on the hotel room floor, you shared a few single kisses through your slowing tears, perfectly innocent and soft that it flooded your hearts with warmth. Lando was over the moon and his hands stayed in yours so tenderly like he never wanted to let you go.
Finally, you pulled away with a soft gasp and then a quiet groan of, “Fuck, I can’t drink wine anymore.”
Lando laughed lightly and he lifted his hands from yours to wipe your tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, “No, you can’t.”
You dramatically rested your forehead against his shoulder.
He rubbed your back, “Only normal grape juice for the next little while now.”
Proper goodbyes were shared before leaving the hotel room together to linger on that last moment of privacy before the public eye would be on you again. Lando partially wished that you had told him sooner because having to leave within the same hour that you told him you were pregnant was almost unbearable. He had always loved you but now it only felt overwhelmingly more and he was having a hard time letting go. Lando promised to call you every night and text often and you promised to FaceTime him during the first doctor's visit which had him crying into your shoulder with how much he just didn't want to leave.
But he had to, and soon he had said an all too quiet goodbye at the airport to you and was sitting at his gate waiting for boarding. Life felt surreal as he sat there among strangers who didn’t know him, didn’t know his story, and didn’t know that you were going to make him a father. He was overwhelmed but he was bursting with glee.
Before he was told to turn off his phone for the flight, he opened one last app to do one final thing. His group chat was quiet that afternoon but Lando was about to change that.
landonorris: Hey guys georgerussell63: Lando!!! Hey! alex_albon: Hiii alex_albon: You back in Bristol yet?? landonorris: Waiting at my gate landonorris: Listen… alex_albon: Listening georgerussell63: Oh no landonorris: I got some news today georgerussell63: Is everything okay?? landonorris: Yeah. It’s great landonorris: I have a girlfriend alex_albon: WHAT georgerussell63: AHHH Like for real??? alex_albon: ITS OFFICIAL???? georgerussell63: OMFGGGKTKJTNGJKT landonorris: Yeah!! As of today landonorris: I still can’t believe it landonorris: But that’s not all georgerussell63: The way I went from celebrating to scared again gave me whiplash alex_albon: Same wtf Lan what is it alex_albon: Just send us one of your classic long paragraphs with everything in it what with the suspense georgerussell63: Lando TELL US landonorris: Well you know how she has been my dream girl for so long right? alex_albon: Duh georgerussell63: Yeesss landonorris: I’ve been basically living the dream because of that this whole summer landonorris: But I guess there was one thing missing that would really complete the ideal universe concept for me landonorris: And I didn’t really think about it too much because it didn’t feel attainable really landonorris: But I guess it wasn’t impossible… landonorris: Because it happened and she told me today... landonorris: We’re having a baby
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omg sex worker miguel o’hara? 🤧🫡
grande | sex worker!miguel o'hara x assistant!reader
❛ pairing | sex worker!miguel o'hara x assistant!reader.
❛ type | extended drabble; 2kish words; explicit
❛ summary | you probably shouldn't tell a man that he's small. even if you've known him a very long time-- and especially if you see him fuck every day.
❛ tags | sex worker au, improper use of belts, male receiving oral, slight disagreements, workplace argument, Spanish is not translated
❛ sy’s notes | ...i now have an escort!miggy x rich girl!reader in my drafts to be finished at some other time because it became a bit depressing and plotty. needed something light to get back into writing for a bit.
He doesn’t play fair. Most women understand that about him. They know Miguel to be the man who bends the delicate boundaries of rules for a good fuck— be it a place, be it a position. Miguel would do what he had to for a better clip.
“Miggy?” You said, hands behind your hips. He should have known then that you were up to some shit. You hover somewhere in his vision with a sugar-sweet smile. You’ve worked with him alongside him since he chose this profession. Most days, he watched you sit by your favorite window that cast a warm midday sun, tacking away with fingers that flew across the keys. Some days, you’re watching him-- mounted on another woman. He cocked his thick brow at you.
“What?”
“I… it’s just… fuck. Elena had something come up.”
“Like I said she would."
Miguel set his fist to his cheek, swirling his protein shake in the other hand. This woman was your idea, not his. There’s a reason your voice choked on the words. You were anxious about your news the way your hands rounded to the front of your body, clammy hands plastered onto your tablet.
“I just thought—“
“I know what you thought. You thought my followers would like her.” He took a swig of his drink. “Not if she’d like me.”
That was exactly the issue. You do too much worrying about what the viewer likes, not enough about what he would like. He was well aware from every ping from Elena and the contorted little face you made that she was scared of him. As to why, he was not certain. He's grumpy, not dangerous.
“She does like you— it’s just your dick,“ you fumbled with your tablet, nearly spilling it over on his lap. “I told her you weren’t that big. She’s just— dramatic.”
“Not that big?”
You’re not winning this fight. He threw a look at the tablet, finding your suggestion more egregious than your description of it. Too thick! She complained. He’d stretch her out. Or, so she feared. He sincerely doubted that. She took enough dick that if that were the case, she’d have an issue long before now.
He’s not that big in real life. All that big dick crap is just marketing. I see his dick all the time.
Then you fuck him!
His mouth flattened into an unmoveable line, clearly unappeased with your response. For a moment, he did not move. He did not fidget. Nor respond. He simply stared down at you with those sharp, unhumored eyes. What little security you had in convincing him flitted away. He abandoned his drink on the table and leaned in close. Close enough that his thick strands of dark hair tickle your skin. Enough that you can smell the perfumed oil that lingered on his tanned skin. He always smelled so good.
“Until you’ve fucked me onscreen,” he brushed past. “Don’t tell women who will what I’m like.”
Oh. You made a mistake.
You don’t like it when Miguel is angry.
Most days coming to work, Miguel has a hot coffee on the table for you as you edit his finest ball-busting work. When the days stretch a little too long, he tells you when enough is enough. And, if you were lucky, he hovered at the stove and made you something to eat. It gave you a perfect sight of his toned shoulders and the long column of his spine-- which he so graciously allowed you to drool over day by day. Today, there was no half-dressed hunk making your delicious meals in sight.
He’s still angry. You pulled up his socials, scrolling through the responses to the latest video. A teasing blooper of a clip with a woman with Miguel’s length halfway down her throat, coughing up his seed all over her chest as you mistakingly giggle behind the screen.
“Keep laughing and see what happens,” Miguel drifted to yours, eyes hazy and soft, chest rising violently with the sundering sensation of his orgasm. He watched for the span of only a few heartbeats, a decadent warning exchanged between the two of you immeasurable before the camera. He reached for a tissue.
“Perdóname, papi.”
Does anyone know if they’re fucking? A user asked. It’s as if Miguel’s co-star was but a fading character. Any chance of seeing him fuck her?? Whats her @?
She’s just his employee.
Need this.
Just an employee. The words pulled on a string of connection that could at any time be cut. Miguel had no interest in wielding the scissors to do so, rather, over the past few years the string only became stronger. He’ll get over it. You stared at the reflection of your poorly made cup of cafecito, undrunken because no one made it like Miguel made it. He’s there, hovering around the sink, but you feel all the more alone in the room. Producer, editor, friend-- your eyes fell back to the cup.
“Are you done?” Miguel hovered by your coffee cup. It was cool to the touch.
“Ah. Sí.”
You gazed up at him, regret seeping from your features. If you apologized yet again, he’d simply leave the room. There are no good words. No ones that would make sense, no words that would… be good enough to make him come back when he’s in this mood, unmoveable and distant. You’re so close to him-- but all alone.
He takes the cup away.
“What’s the meaning of this?”
Miguel dropped his phone on your office desk. It thumped over the tablespace, his expression morphing into something wrong. You turn his phone upright, knowing the contents before the information actually registers in your mind.
“It’s a picture of me,” you closed the top of your laptop and whirled around in the chair, knocking your knees against his. He’s closer than he’s been in days.
“Yes. But what else?” he rumbled.
You’re not stupid, remembering the launch of merch that Miguel sincerely doubted anyone would be seriously interested in. How many people wore a male sex worker’s merch? This was all your idea, of course. Your lip is bitten fat, stripped of skin. Your eyes wandered across the table to the cabinet with an array of different cameras. Miguel rapped his scarred knuckles over the table, blocking your desperation for an escape. He wanted a substantial answer.
“You told me to make sure it sold.”
“And that meant model with your ass out on my page.”
“You don’t like it?”
"Dios," that’s not the point. He breathed a forceful breath, navigating your rolling chair up against the bed in the room. Typically the bed was used for a late night at the office or one of Miguel’s performances with any number of women you cast him with. Or, as you preferred, when he masturbates by himself-- squeezing his hand along his length as your phantom hand poured more wet lubricant over his cock. The sheets are always stained and consequentially changed.
“I don’t like that they know what you look like,” Miguel supplied, his chest cresting into a fall. His gaze fell to your hands, settled in a clasp over your short skirt. Now he knew what you looked like. “Do you know how many requests I have to…”
“Fuck me.”
“Sí,” Miguel said, your name dying on his tongue. “To fuck you.”
“Then do it. You have a camera.”
What-- his gaze read. It’s in the way his brow pushed together, how his lips fell just so lightly apart. He would say something more, but your hands are on his dark slacks, tracking up toward his sturdy leather belt. In only an hour or so, Miguel was meant to record with Elena, who, you convinced. He should be saving his stamina for that, not this. Even so, his hands hovered atop your own, grunting slightly in response, unable to stop what you were doing.
“Don’t ask me to ruin you.”
“I think you already have,” you murmured, finding his soft cock. You stroked him through his pants, drawing along his length, getting him where you want him. With every scene you recorded, you knew what Miguel liked. You knew he liked scenes where he could take his time, as short and far between as they were. You want that too. You drew the belt loose and unbuttoned the little spry button. So close, you could almost taste him.
“Are you going to record it?” You gestured toward the desk, pulling his cock into the free air. He’s an impressive length, just as you recall, you think he has to be to be an adult actor. The real treat is Miguel’s thick girth, swirled with delicious veins. You had seen his dick at least a hundred times, delighted in watching him meet his orgasm time and time again, and touched yourself to the thought of being just like his many girls.
“No,” Miguel pulled his belt from the loops and tugged it around his wrist. He let the other hand find the back of your head, weaving through smooth locks of hair, guiding your lush lips to his cock. “This is all for me.”
When he spoke like that, all you wanted was to make him happy. Your moist mouth separated, warm breath tickling the length that he shoved into your wet mouth. Maybe Elena had a point, you think, suckling around his length once, drawing to his fat tip. He hums in response, bucking back deep into your mouth. Miguel didn't want to wait, causing you to gag over his length, a terrible coughing resonating about his dick. Now that he had you here, he would show you how wrong you were.
“I thought I wasn’t that big,” Miguel’s hand left your head, stretching his belt across the back of your neck. Bucking forward, you gagged around his length, scratching his clothed hip for some mercy. If he wasn’t so big-- you could take it, couldn’t you? “Just like that. Hm? Cómo?”
He was gracious enough to allow you off his cock, gasping for air as you were, the depth of his plunging cock having pricked a few oversensitized tears on the sides of your eyes. You’re beautiful like that, overwrought and needy. Your heart rattled in the confines of your ribcage, wheezing as you jerked him pathetically. How certain you look now, tugging on him for a moment of relief.
“I’m sorry--”
“Ya sé.”
Your eyes fluttered shut, guiding him back into your mouth. Your cheeks hollowed out, drawing him in fast and hard. If not for the belt around the back of your neck, he might have stumbled, stuck between the warmth of your mouth and the pleasured groans tickling his length. You’re well-accustomed to what the girls do, stretching your palm around his dick.
“Harder,” he remarked, throwing a half-chewed-up curse aside. Unlike with the other girls, he’s weak before the pleasure, usually focused and refined, his jaw clenches. He’s gotten weak-- has it been that long since he’s had sex outside of the roll of the camera?
“Miggy,” you pulled back, your sloppy tongue swirling about his fat tip. He catches the moan in his chest, refusing to let it crest over, not yet. His eyes catch yours, muscular stomach flexing, he’s listening. “I want to taste you. Can I taste you?”
You’re such a good niña. Miguel forces you back to your rightful place on his cock, the band stretched so tight around his fists that he might break it. Your name becomes an unbearable, pleasurable slur on his tongue. He’s a trained man, knowing to cum when you say to come on each shoot. In many ways, he's your trained dog: cuming when he's told to.
His length pulsed in your mouth for one final thrust before he gave you what you wanted, strands of release spraying the back of your warm little mouth. You suckled him up, even as he tried to pull free. You cleaned his cock, sucking him nice and clean. Miguel brushed off your attempt to zip him away.
“Don’t bother,” Miguel breathed, pulling at the black-tie strapped to his throat. His white dress shirt was soaked, causing him to roll the sleeves up to his elbows. His voice dropped, well-fucked out but nearly ready for another round. “Your cunt is next.”
“But Elena is on her w--”
“Fuck her,” Miguel waved his hand, slouching into your chair. “Fix the camera. We have a video to shoot.”
If nothing else-- now you can tell her how big he really is.
#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara/reader#atsv imagines#atsv imagine#atsv fic#atsv x reader#atsv x you#atsv x y/n#miggy x reader#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel ohara imagine#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara smut
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Standin’ on a Cloud; Eddie Munson ☁️
summary: your boyfriend eddie is a sweetheart, but you already knew that.
word count: 1.2K
warnings: fem!r, established relationship, fluff fluff and more fluff, nicknames (babe, baby, angel, darling, sweetums)
a/n: based on my favvvv song angel by madonna <3 i just want eddie in my room goofing around and maybe also kissing me silly :(
“My darlingest darling,” Eddie coos suddenly, buttering you up from his perch at your vanity. You glance up at him from where you’re lounging on the bed, reading a magazine. He’s been in your room for all of thirty minutes and he’s already trying to accost you.
“What do you want?” you reply bluntly, making Eddie let out a shocked laugh.
“Want?” he starts, and you know he’s about to be facetious. “Whatever do you mean, sweetums?” he teases, standing to approach your bed. “I only desire your precious time.”
You love the way Eddie moves. He’s like a dog that grew up with cats, slinking clumsily, if there ever was such a movement.
“You’re so full of it,” you whisper with faux sweetness, drawing a finger down the crease of the Rolling Stone you bought on a whim at the supermarket.
“Full of…what? Love? Full of love?” You laugh at Eddie’s absurdity and sudden closeness, his hip leant on the bed and his body folding in half to meet you face-to-face.
“Yes, of course,” you answer, “how did you know that’s what I meant?”
Eddie smiles lazily, his face slightly red from hanging sideways.
“Just one of the many super-boyfriend-powers I possess, babe. Don’t worry about it.”
“Ah, right.” You close your magazine.
With much less accusation, and double the fondness, you ask again: “What do you want?
Eddie squints like he’s not sure he can trust you. He decidedly crawls up onto the bed using only his knees, shirt riding up and arms flailing.
“Um,” he begins mindlessly, trying not to clip you in his fuss to lie down. He settles in beside you, propping his head up on his hand, eyes mischievous.
“I was just wondering,” says Eddie, "if my gorgeous girlfriend would do me a flavor and paint my nails for me?”
“A flavor,” you repeat with a small smile, pretending to read a headline about Wham! while Eddie’s warmth distracts you. Eddie hums confidently in return, like there’s nothing amiss with his word choice. Turning your head to look at him, your mouth curls into a grin. “What color y’want?”
Eyes alight, Eddie rolls off the bed, presumably to raid your polish stores if he hasn’t already. Your stereo is playing a tape that Eddie sweetly curated for you, with rock ballads and indie jams he thought you’d like, and you belatedly recognize the song playing. As Eddie sifts through your colors he absently sings along, shocking you.
“—can see it in your eyes, full of wonder and surprise—” His rich timbre takes the tune on effortlessly, like he’s heard it a hundred times before.
“I thought you were against Madonna,” you mention, watching his back. He looks up at you through the vanity mirror, cutting his singing off before the chorus. Realizing he’s been caught, he sighs heavily.
“Well, yknow I was, but I think I’ve changed my tune.” Distracted, he turns around, leaning on the messy table to properly talk to you. “Cause you left that Virgin tape in my van, right?—and I was just gonna retire the poor thing but…”
“But you liked it?” you anticipate, perhaps a touch too excited to have this one thing over him.
“No,” Eddie says awkwardly, holding his mouth in an o for a moment. “But!—you played this one on the drive to Steve’s that day and I, uh—” He fiddles with his fingers, strangely sheepish.
“You what?”
Eddie spins around, back in business with your nail lacquer. You almost don’t hear him when he shyly continues.
“I guess it sorta reminded me of you,” he admits, shoving his hair behind his ear nervously.
Your stomach churns with want, a honeypot of sweetness as your eyes trace over Eddie’s figure. You’re so used to him in your room now, despite how out of place he is—dark and moody against your bright and girlish decor. Perhaps it’s because your room has obtained some Eddie-adjacent additions as time goes on: rock records and DND game items. It feels good to know that you have the same effect on him, and you’re suddenly glad you left that tape in his car. The image of him singing Angel on his way to see you is almost overwhelming.
When he finally picks a color, the song is wading into the bridge, and Eddie’s face is still pink. Madonna croons through your grainy speakers as he returns to you—I believe that dreams come true, ‘cause you came when I wished for you... Despite his blatant embarrassment, Eddie dances on the way back to the bed, almost like he can’t help it.
“Well, that’s funny,” you say, finally wrestling out of your thoughts.
Eddie entertains you, shaking the bottle of paint he’d settled on—too quickly for you to make out which it is. “Why so?”
Confidently, knowing exactly what it’d do to him, you say, “I always thought this song was about you.”
Eddie is kneeing his way onto the bed once more, his bottom lip caught under his teeth. He doesn’t lie down again, staying on his knees above you, so you flip over to avoid craning your neck.
“Babe, I’m a metalhead,” Eddie reminds you seriously, pressing his hands into the mattress on either side of you. He looks completely wrecked from your statement, but he’s doing a commendable job of pretending he disliked it. He says: “You can’t go calling me an angel or you’re gonna ruin my rep.”
Grinning, you push up onto your elbows to eat up even more of the space between you and your boyfriend.
“Well, you’d better stop being such a sweetie and making me mixes with Madonna on them, then.”
Eddie inches closer.
“But how else will I tell you what a doll you are?” he goads, and his breath warms your lips.
“Um…head banging?” you suggest helpfully. Eddie shakes his head gently so his curtain of hair tickles your face, making you giggle. He places an affectionate peck over your smile and then leans back on his haunches.
Sitting up all the way, you look to his ring-heavy hands.
“Okay, what color did we pick?”
Hesitantly, Eddie unfolds his fist to reveal a hollow box of glass on his palm, undeniably pink from the varnish it encapsulates. It doesn’t escape you that the exact same shade sits on your own fingernails. Looking up to catch his eye, you watch his face flush.
“What was that about being a metalhead?” you tease, unable to resist. Eddie makes like he’s going to get up and pick a new color but you jump to stop him. “Oh, Eds, I’m only kidding!”
“Do you think people will laugh?” Eddie asks, and he’s oddly sincere. You pull your head back, somewhat surprised that he’d even care, but then again, most of Eddie’s song and dance about non-conformity is just that: performance. He believes it, of course, but only because he has to—because he’s not like everyone else. It’s almost impossible to be impervious to judgment, and you also think Eddie might be more worried about your guys’ friends than anyone else.
“Maybe,” you tell him, not willing to lie. “But it’s just polish. You can take it off and pretty much anybody would forget the next day. Or you could flip ‘em a pretty pink middle finger, too, ‘cause they should mind their own damn business.”
A sweet smile curls onto Eddie’s face, his brown eyes melting and gooey. He brushes a quick thumb over your jaw as a thank-you of sorts.
“Yeah?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you confirm, “yeah, I think it’s metal.”
Eddie surges forward, attacking your lips with his own. The kiss is short-lived, one closed-mouth press, but what it lacks in duration it makes up for in sweetness.
“‘Kay,” he agrees, moving to sit against your headboard. “Make me pretty.”
Crawling onto his lap obediently, you say, “Can’t make you something y’already are, angel.”
Eddie’s face turns as pink as his nails end up later.
+
thank u for reading <3
masterlist
#eddie munson#stranger things#hugs hugs hugs and more hugs#sickening amounts of fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader#eddie stranger things#eddie munson blurb#stranger things fanfiction#fluff
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Knots
PAIRING: masseur!Geto Suguru x fem!reader
GENRE: no curses!au | smut (18+)
Minors DNI
TAGS + WARNINGS: fingering, nipple play, semi-public sex/exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), brief masturbation (m), size kink, praise kink, cum eating, light mentions of/brief marking
Let me know if I missed anything.
WORD COUNT: 4.5k
SUMMARY: With so much stress piling up on you, Geto was kind enough to offer you a massage. Unfortunately, no amount of relaxation can distract you from the sexual tension between you and your friend.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: MAPPA can't draw jjk characters like that and expect me not to write smut about em 🙄also: HAPPY NEW YEARS, LOVELIES <3333
© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify
“Are you sure this is okay?” It’s too late to ask him that, but you couldn’t stop the question from leaving your lips. “I’d hate for you to get in trouble.”
Your face burns as silence follows; you can only thank whatever gods above for him not being able to see your expression.
“I won’t tell if you won’t tell,” he chuckles, and you copy the sound nervously, unsure if he is serious. After a pregnant pause, he adds, “I’m kidding. You have nothing to worry about.” Your peripheral vision catches him moving around you to get to the cabinet. “Consider it a favour from a friend.”
You hear the cabinet door open and shut, and you shift from your spot face down on the table.
“At least let me pay you back somehow,” you press, pouting.
“That defeats the point of a favour, doesn’t it?” Geto’s footsteps get louder until you catch sight of his shoes from the corner of your eye. There’s another pause, this one longer than the previous one. “Are you comfortable with me unclapsing your bra?” Before you can answer, he quickly continues, “It can stay on like you wanted, I just need the straps out of the way.”
If you aren’t hyping yourself up to take every opportunity to get closer to the masseur, you’re second-guessing your decision to take his offer. Should he follow through with the action, it would only be the beginning of something far more intimate. And you know this. You knew this. Even when Geto first suggested the idea after you opened up about your piling stress and even when you foolishly thought asking Gojo for advice on the offer was a good idea.
But you’re here now, aren’t you?
“Go for it,” you try to mask whatever uneasiness you can. Gentle fingers tug at the clips at the end of your bra, disconnecting them and allowing the straps to drop. Even with your chest still covered, you feel bare, the cool air tickling the newly exposed area. You have to force yourself from shivering.
“You still like the scent of lavender?” Geto's question catches you off-guard, raising your head from the cushion, not realizing that he recalled such a minor detail. Your silence makes the ravenette turn to you again, offering his easy-going smile. “Or have your tastes changed?”
You nod mindlessly, blinking up at him. “Lavender’s good.”
Geto hums before searching through his cabinet, taking several seconds to find the bottle he was looking for. You rest your head back on the cushion before he can catch you staring.
“I’ll be starting now.” The sound of a bottle cap opening follows your friend’s words. “If you’re ever uncomfortable, don’t hesitate to let me know. Otherwise, just lay back and relax.”
Despite his gentle voice, following his order becomes easier said than done once his large hands come in contact with your back, the oil adding to his skin’s warmth. You bit your lip, the serene scent of lavender reaching your olfactory as the masseur works his magic on your stress.
You don’t realize how exhausted your body has felt until Geto applies pressure for the first time, and you cringe.
“Easy, easy,” he soothes, pausing his ministrations once you try to relax your body. “Wow, you are stressed.”
You allow your body to sink further into the table’s mattress when his soft laughter reaches your ears, and you give him the go-ahead to continue. Fingerpads return to your skin, rubbing heavy yet sturdy circles onto your back, untying any and every knot trapping your muscles. You can feel your body fall limp, drowning heavily while at the same time floating into the heavens as every evidence of exhaustion disappears from you.
Still, even as you try to keep your mind blank and enjoy the moment, you can’t help but notice how much space Geto’s hand takes up on your back. It doesn’t help that they creep up to your neck, more than ready to push the problems away from that area.
“So,” you trail off, feeling the need to fill the silence rather than embrace it, “You give these massages to Ieiri or Satoru?”
The ravenette chuckles. “If you’d call the occasional shoulder rub a proper massage, then sure.”
A memory of the four of you at a local diner pops into your head, Shoko telling Geto a shoulder massage was the least she deserved after all the all-nighters she’s suffered through. You giggled, watching the medical student melt under the masseur’s magic touch, ignoring the twinge of jealousy that prodded your mind.
You quip. “Not even a full-body one? Ieiri’s the one who deserves it the most out of us.”
“Guess she just never has the time for one,” he hums.
“And Satoru?”
Geto snickers, pausing his actions. You join in on the laughter, a small swell of pride blooming in your chest.
Your joy is cut short when he resumes the massage, adding pressure to a specific area below the nape of your neck that forces a whimper out of you. You freeze, hoping the masseur didn’t hear it. But with how his hold on you paused, even for just a moment, you couldn’t deceive yourself into believing you were in the clear.
“Sorry,” you squeak, the warmth from your face expanding to the rest of your body. Could he feel it?
You can hear the smile in his voice. “So tense, aren’t you?”
You don’t miss the octave drop in his voice, biting your tongue. Geto returns to work, his fingers digging into your skin and untying whatever knots your muscles carried for who knows how long. You allow yourself to sigh at the sensation, your brows knitting together from the pressure without the discomfort.
His hands travel lower, returning to previous areas with added strength until he reaches the small of your back. You try not to tense upon feeling his fingers graze the towel covering your bottom, but you can’t prevent the shaky moan from escaping your lips once his hold shifts to your hips.
Another pause from him: another apology from you.
“Nothing for you to be sorry about.” Your friend assures you, though you barely miss the light strain in his tone. “I’ll be working on your legs next, okay?”
You hum lightly, shifting from your spot as he passes what the towel covers. Your thoughts wander before you can put them on a leash, the pang of disappointment from the neglect of that area allowing your imagination to drift.
Would a massage there even feel good? Geto would undoubtedly find a way, his large hands practically blanketing each cheek. And his fingers—God, they were the stars of the show, finding the spots that needed the most attention and pushing every bit of tension out of your worn-out body. You’re confident his digits would be just as adventurous in other places.
You feel yourself clench around nothing and fear the handsome man above you possibly noticing. Shaking your head, you hope those thoughts fly out like fleas.
Geto stops. “Too much?”
“Hm?” You snap out of your daze. “Oh, no. I’m fine.”
The masseur’s hands glide up to your upper thighs, and you freeze, his hold remaining in place as he leans closer to your head.
“You don’t have to go through with this if you don’t like it,” he says, his voice calm. “I can return the favour some other way.”
Your body moves before your brain can command it to. Or rather, stop it from doing so. Hastily, you raise your head from the cushion, your upper torso following suit as it twists to face your friend.
“I can take it.”
Silence. Too much of it for your liking. It has your stomach churning and your heart ramming against your ribs. Maybe it’s the heaviness in your body that follows you getting up too quickly, or your word choice. It could also be how Geto stares at you with parted lips, his eyes on you but not meeting your gaze.
Instead of further embarrassing yourself by speaking, you follow his focus, only to wish you hadn’t.
Your bra, long forgotten by you, barely hangs onto your body by its straps by your elbows, exposing your back as well as most of your chest. The lavender scent is no longer soothing, the heat on your face is dizzying, and you’d want nothing more than to run out the door if only your legs weren’t practically limp from your friend’s treatment. It doesn’t help that his hold on the back of your upper thighs hasn’t budged. If anything, it’s tightened, his grip making your clit jump.
You suppose you spoke too soon once the warmth of Geto’s touch disappeared from your legs, the masseur having moved to reach for your bra straps to pull them back up to your shoulders before you could process his actions. You blink, eyes trailing up to his face now adorning a rosy hue and soft lips pressed into a thin line. He’s so much closer, his breath barely fanning the top of your head. And if you aren’t forcing your gaze to meet his, you’re impulsively glancing back at his mouth.
With so much focus on the beautiful man, you don’t catch him slowly but surely leaning in.
The last discernable thing you catch is Geto’s lidded eyes darkening before he presses his lips against yours.
You don’t breathe. You forget to, just like how you leave your mouth slightly agape and your eyes wide open.
The ravenette pulls away quicker than he’d leaned in, and the corners of your lips twitch downwards. His brows furrow as he looks at you with a brighter flush on his handsome face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
No. You won’t let him regret his actions, not for your sake.
The sudden shift in perspective is alarming when, only moments ago, you feared ruining your relationship with your friend. Now, you’re shifting to sit on the massage table, grabbing Geto by his shirt collar, tugging him forward and slamming his lips onto yours. You groan at the impact, relaxing only a second later once he returns the kiss with just as much hunger.
But he’s still not close enough. His hold remains on your bra straps, making it harder for you to wrap your arms around his neck. It’s the only reason you pull back, locking eyes with him as you place your hands on his.
“Suguru,” you pant, chest heaving for air as your lids droop. Your following words stay trapped in your throat, the masseur having slid his hold higher up your shoulders to bring you back to the kiss. You squeak, the fervour behind his actions far more evident as his tongue teases your lower lip. He groans into your mouth, his thumbs caressing your skin as you invite him in, eager to have him even closer.
Your hands are still on top of Geto’s, you remember, and you slide his down your arms while he’s distracted by the kiss. (With how he’s swirling his tongue around yours, you aren’t sure you can call it a “kiss” anymore.)
You pull back hastily, not missing the string of saliva connecting your bottom lips before motioning for him to look down. His sharp eyes do so, blinking out of his haze as he sees how the cups of your bra no longer cover your breasts. You don’t recall when you stopped caring about your face burning like it was on fire, the pride in your chest and lust in your lower belly now the dominant sensations as he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful creature on the planet.
“Please,” he gulps, an unmissable strain in his voice. “Let me taste you.”
Even after the lewd makeout session, his words left your mouth cotton-dry. You can only kiss him again, guiding his hands to cup your breasts, your bra sliding off your arms.
When Geto pulls back, his lips reattach to your skin, trailing down your neck to the valley of your mounds. He lightly pushes you to lie down on the table, making yourself comfortable before plopping one of your nipples into his mouth, the other one between his fingers. Your own hands loosen his hair from its bun, the strands falling gracefully onto his broad back. They’re as soft as they look, your fingers streaming through the midnight locks like water past the pebbles in the river.
The masseur switches his treatment, the other nipple now teased by the grazing of his teeth while his large hand keeps the second breast from neglect. Your body feels hot, and the warmth of his mouth does little to soothe the issue. But with how much you’ve been rubbing your thighs together, you’d hardly consider this a problem now.
Your hands remain in his hair as Geto continues kissing down your body, stopping just at the apex of your thigh to peer at you with those dark pools for irises. One of his hands removes the towel from your lap, revealing your thin shorts underneath. He tugs at the waistband, silently asking for your permission. Your response consists of your hips rising from the table, and he’s quick to shimmy your remaining clothes off your body, stealing another passionate kiss from you in the process.
“I want nothing more than to hear every sound I get out of you,” your friend (can you still call him that?) pants, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards and his face flushed as he watches your reaction through hooded lids. You lean in, chasing his lips for another kiss. He stops you with a finger, and you hold back the whine squeaking from your throat. He chuckles. “But I’m going to need you to keep your voice down. Can you do that for me?”
You almost forgot that you’re in a public setting, even with the privacy of a closed door. Geto warmly smiles when you nod, and he lowers himself to face your crotch, helping you shift to let your legs dangle off the table. You find his eyes widening upon catching sight of your bare cunt already drooling your essence. The ravenette exhales shakily before planting a kiss on your clit, making you twitch. Your reaction makes him chuckle, and he licks long strips against your slit, moaning through his languid movements.
“What was that about being quiet?” You giggle breathily, leaning your weight on your hands. Geto pauses.
“Sorry, beautiful,” he whispers with a smile, tightening his hold on your thighs. “You taste like a dream.”
You throw your head back as your eyes flutter shut, his words and continued ministrations between your legs setting your body ablaze and your mind blank. It doesn’t help that he’s practically encouraging you to cage him tightly between your thighs, squeezing his head in place as he makes out with your cunt. Your hips grind into his touch, moving in tandem with his soft lips and warm tongue.
Even with his sensual movements, you can tell he’s holding back, if his tight hold on the fat of your thighs is any indication. Your hips grind into his touch, allowing him permission to feast on you how he’d like, gripping a fistful of his locks for further encouragement. And the masseur seems to have gotten the message, his tongue digging inside you while his nose nudges at your pearl.
Holding back your sounds of pleasure is already a challenge—warning the handsome male beneath you of your oncoming release doesn’t even seem possible, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as the sensation in your lower belly grows stronger.
And maybe Geto doesn’t need you to tell him. Or maybe, he’s just so lost in the taste of your essence that he’s decided to wrap his soft lips around your puffy clit and suck, the tip of his tongue flicking at the nub at the same time. Whatever the case, his actions do the trick, your hold on his head tightening as your legs shake while your jaw falls slack. The ravenette doesn’t falter, pushing himself closer to your cunt, his mouth working its magic and creating sounds that would embarrass you if it weren’t for the ringing in your ears.
Coming down from the high, plus the massage, has you losing your hold on yourself. Luckily for you, Geto quickly rises from his spot, catching you by the waist and pulling you into another kiss with a soft groan. Your taste on your tongue and the need for air make you dizzy, but you bring him closer regardless.
“‘M sorry,” he pants after ending the kiss, his chin shining with your slick. “Just had to show you how good you taste.”
You can only whimper in response, feathering kisses on his lips as you play with his hair. Geto happily lets you, his large hands mapping your torso and thighs as if burning every curve into his memory.
“Didn’t know this came with the free massage,” you mumble against his mouth, holding back a smile.
“There’s plenty more where that came from,” he purrs, moving you back down on your stomach like you weigh nothing. You hear the rustling of clothing, and before you can ask him what he’s doing, you feel a weight hovering over your figure. Familiar, large hands splay open on either side of your head while muscular thighs cage your legs in place. “Do you trust me?”
Something pokes your lower back, and you almost forget to answer with the masseur’s hot breath against your ear. You lift your hips to grind against his crotch with a whimper, hoping that’ll be more than enough for him.
Your actions make Geto laugh, and he teasingly nibbles at your earlobe. “Use your words, darling.”
It doesn’t help that he’s taken his tip to glide across your slit, collecting your juices as a lubricant. You twist your head to face him, one of your hands gripping on the cushion above you as a distraction.
“I’ve been waiting a lot longer for this moment than you know,” you confess meekly, watching as the ravenette’s eyes widen and lips part from your words. “And I don’t think I can keep it up any longer.”
You worry you’ve revealed too much too soon when you’re met with silence. But when that familiar smile and soft gaze grace Geto’s features, the nerves fluttering in your stomach evaporate.
The handsome male presses a kiss against your temple. “That makes two of us, then.”
With only a few seconds to register his confession, your heart does a doubletake before you feel Geto lead his cock into your heat, his hand gripping yours as reassurance. The subtly painful stretch that follows suit makes you grateful for the gesture, your insides splitting in half as he just keeps going in. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, feeling every vein graze against you.
The masseur notices, it seems, and he whispers encouraging words in your ear, giving you the occasional kiss on your shoulder.
“There you go,” he drawls quietly, his crotch meeting your ass. “Nice and full, aren’t you?”
You exhale shakily, feeling his strong chest pressed against your back. On rare occasions, when Geto wears tight-fitting shirts, you’re blessed with the sight of his chiselled physique, especially his back, since he can’t catch you ogling. The chance to leave your mark there, like an artist’s signature on a painted canvas, is one you’ve longed for. However, with the knot in your belly ready to snap without having him even move makes you grateful for the current position. Maybe next time you’ll get to see all of him.
Next time.
“Can I move, darling?” Geto's breath tickles your skin. “I’m afraid I won’t last too long with how you’re squeezing me.”
The almost boyish giggle he breathes out has your heart rocketing in your ribs. Your affirmation comes out weak, but the masseur hears it loud and clear. He reels his hips back, but it’s when he buries his shaft back into you that you feel your eyes roll back once more. Your jaw falls open, a moan slipping out as he sets a languid yet deep pace.
“We need to keep quiet, remember?” Geto shushes, his face buried in your neck. “My massages are good, but even outsiders might grow suspicious if you’re too loud.”
His soft laughter mixes with your pleading whine. “You’re not making it easy for me.”
The ravenette halts his movements, much to your dismay. Even with you wiggling your hips, he doesn't budge, and you’re about to ask him about the holdup before he beats you to it.
“You think it’s easy for me?” The soothing lilt of his voice is long gone, replaced with a low timbre that has you clenching around his girth. “I’ve got you milking me for all I’m worth, and we barely started. What do you think that does to me?”
You feel his teeth graze your skin, making you shiver as you try to regain friction between your legs. Geto's stronger than you, much stronger, and your movements don’t make him budge.
With a quivering sigh, you prop yourself on your forearms, and he retracts from his hiding spot in your neck. You face him, lids hanging low on your eyes and face warmer than it should be.
“Show me.”
With a smirk, Geto pulls himself out until only his tip remains before slamming back into you. You choke on a gasp, his pace and strength relentless as his hips slap against your ass, the sounds bouncing off the walls. You can’t even call him out on his hypocrisy as you bury your face into the table, hoping it’ll help mask your cries.
It doesn’t, of course. But Geto Suguru, ever the gentleman, carefully lifts your head by your neck and, while hovering over you, slams his lips against yours. The position isn’t the most comfortable, but you don’t find yourself complaining as he rams into you, filling you up and moulding your insides into the shape of his cock.
Your eyes don’t know what to do, from squeezing shut to crossing. At one point, you catch the door in your peripheral vision, and the thought of potentially getting caught has you clenching, your hand reaching for the masseur’s bicep and digging your nails into his pale skin.
Geto grunts. “You trying to make me cum, beautiful?”
His playful tone makes you whine, his pace never faltering as he sneaks one of his hands under you to grope one of your breasts. The toying of your nipple, along with the male’s relentless thrusts, fuels the coil in your belly, and what does the trick is him leaving his mark on your neck.
With a drawn-out gasp, your body stills, toes curling and tongue lolling out as your pussy convulses. You hardly notice Geto’s strokes growing sloppy, his whispered cursing going in one ear and out the other. Having him lead you to heaven is plenty for you.
Once you calm down, though, you feel like he’s pulled out too soon. You groan, your ears catching the light sounds of him shuffling from his spot above you, followed by a rapid squelching noise that has you peeking over your shoulder.
There, in all his naked glory, is Geto stroking his cock, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth and eyes zeroed in on your figure.
“Shit, shit—” he cuts himself off with a gasp, ropes of cum shooting from his slit and landing on the back of your thighs. The sight alone has you clenching, the need for him inside you arising once more. “Oh, fuck—”
Anyone would grow angry at a mess thrown at them. You’re no different, just worse (the one time Gojo accidentally made you ruin your eyeliner is more than enough proof—the poor fool).
And yet, having painted your thighs white by Geto, his seed clinging to your oily (and now sweaty) skin, you somehow find yourself falling for him more.
“Suguru,” you slur, your eyelids fluttering as you allow your body to slump back onto the table. You feel his weight disappear before hearing footsteps grow louder. Through tired eyes, you’re face-to-face with his crotch, causing you to squeak as your upper body jolts up again.
“Sorry, sorry,” the masseur chuckles, crouching to meet you at eye level. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
The atmosphere returns to the comforting one his work ought to bring, though a part of you finds yourself fidgety. The ravenette wipes away the evidence with a wet towel, and it’s enough to keep you in place and relaxed as he continues to take care of you.
Once done, he helps you sit up, keeping you steady as your legs dangle off the table.
“I think you fucked the bones out of me,” you croak, and Geto pauses midway from sliding your underwear back up your legs. He laughs a soft, boyish laugh, the melody bringing a smile to your lips and a warmth of embarrassment to your cheeks. “Is this what you had in mind by doing me a favour?”
He pecks your nose before resuming dressing you. “No, but I’m not complaining with the results.”
You hum, and the silence returns as he aids you with the rest of your clothes.
It isn’t until he’s slipping his boxers back on that you speak again. “You don’t give this kind of special treatment to the others?”
A witless, little joke on your part, though your tone didn’t match. Maybe it was the exhaustion that took charge or a sliver of self-consciousness that needed assurance that you had him all to yourself. Still, you press your lips into a thin line, awaiting his answer.
“To our friends or my clients?” he inquires, putting on the remainder of his clothes. “Either way, the answer’s no.” When you don’t say anything else, he approaches you, nudging his nose against yours. “Did you want me to?”
Your head snaps up to meet his amused gaze. “No!”
Geto's joking smile eases into a sincere one, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and embracing you.
“Perfect,” he breathes, pressing his lips to your temple. “Guess that means you’re the only one who gets my special treatment.” A pause, followed by a sheepish giggle. “As long as we do it outside of my job. I’d like to keep it, you know.”
From your position, you peer over his shoulder to where the door stands a few meters away, shut and locked but keeping you in suspense. With heat bubbling in your face, you hide in the crook of his neck.
“You technically never finished my massage,” you mumble against his skin, your hands tracing any muscle it can reach on his back. Geto pulls back from the hug, jutting his bottom lip as if pondering.
“I suppose you’re right,” he hums before another smile breaks onto his features. “Shall we continue back at my place, then?”
© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify
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-> CH. 10: EITHER FICKLE OR A FRIEND (OR A REALLY FUCKING FICKLE FRIEND)
synopsis: connor and you have a conversation. it's not uncomfortable, per se, but it's weird. connor's acting weird.
word count: 2.4k
ships: Connor/Reader, Hank Anderson & Reader
notes: me? projecting onto y/n? it's more likely than you think
HoFS taglist: @catladyhere , @foggy0trees0 , @princessofenkanomiya , @n30n-f43 , @igna4400 (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask!)
HEAD OF FALSE SECURITY MASTERLIST
Connor’s sitting in his unofficially designated chair in the corner of the android autopsy room, and you’re puttering about, stealing glances at him out of the corner of your eye.
Again, the loud and prideful creature in you is baying and yowling like a dog near death. It’s telling you to kick him out – that his kind-of-aggression and kind-of-manipulation is completely unforgivable. It curses at you for your faults, for being weak for him when he feels absolutely nothing for you.
But you swallow it. You stomp it down and tell it to be quiet for now.
You pat the autopsy table. It’s surprisingly loud, and startles you a little. “Khm… if you’d like to get started on the memory transfer, you can get up on the table.”
Connor stands and moves over to the autopsy table. He sits on it and leans forward, his elbows on his knees.
You pull a couple of cables from a drawer in your desk and plug them into the side of one of your computers. When you turn to Connor, you hold up the other ends of them. “I need to plug these into your ports.”
Connor turns his head to the side and presses behind his ear. The plastic of his skin slides back, revealing two small ports.
“Jacking in. Don’t move.” You grab Connor’s jaw to steady him, then jack in the ports one at a time.
You pull away and turn to your monitor before you fully register what you just did. You’re so used to doing it out of instinct that you didn’t realize you were holding his face. You feel the tips of your ears start to burn, but clear your throat and try to shake it off.
“I’m going to sift through your memory banks,” you say without turning to look at him. “Have you had this… well, I usually call it an operation, but it’s not really one. Have you had a query run on your memory before?”
“Not by an external source,” Connor says. “But I do recall the events that happened throughout the day and process them while in standby or rest mode.”
“So you call queries on yourself?” You say. “Huh. Never heard of androids doing that before. But I guess you are a prototype.”
You put your head down and start to type. “Give me temporary access to your systems?”
A pop-up appears on your monitor:
> Android “Connor” (model RK800) giving admin access to Memory Banks. Accept access? Y/N
You click accept and multiple windows appear on your screen. You sort through them and find what you’re looking for. You quickly type:
RK800.memory-banks(location.search);
//=> ‘?Jericho’ {date=11-08-2038}
A short clip comes up after a few seconds of load time. It starts with a first-person shot of Connor looking at you (god, did you really look that worried?), then takes off and charges the deviant. He connects with the other android, and then you see it: Jericho, painted on a piece of rusty metal, just like how Connor described. Then, Connor is ripped from his connection. The video ends.
“That looks like a…” you mutter to yourself. You don’t finish the sentence.
“Looks like a what?” Connor pipes up from behind you.
You rewind the footage from Connor’s memory banks and look at it again. “I was going to say it looks like a boat, but…”
“It’s highly unlikely that the deviants are residing on a boat,” Connor says. “There aren’t many abandoned boats along the Detroit River, and certainly not one big enough to house most of the deviant androids.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too,” you say. “It’s not like there’s just a freighter floating around for them to take.”
You put your head down again and put in the commands to copy the video to your desktop. After a few seconds, it’s done.
“Okay.” You pull away from the keyboard and turn to Connor. “I’m done.”
“Actually, Officer?” Connor asks.
Your eyebrows furrow. “Yes?”
He glances away, then back to you. “Do you have the equipment required to run a diagnostic on an android?”
“Uh…” You let out an exhale of air with something between confusion and disbelief. “Yeah? Yeah, I do. Why?”
“Can you run a diagnostic on me?” Connor asks.
“Wh…” Your face twists in confusion. “Why would you want that? I thought you had the operating power to run diagnostics on yourself.”
“I do,” Connor says, and it’s almost like there’s a hint of defensiveness in his tone. “But… I’d just like a second opinion.”
You nod, slowly. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll get that up and running.”
You turn back to the computer and close the running programs to make space for the ones you open. When you’re done, you move over to Connor and remove the cables after warning him. You almost cradle his head as you press your left palm to the port behind his ear, your thumb on his cheek. (The proud creature inside you whines and barks and kicks your liver at that.)
The wires from your glove quickly replace the cables that were just there a moment ago. Connor’s eye twitches once.
You look over your shoulder at the computer. It’s already automatically running the diagnostic you queued up – way too slow for your liking, might you add.
“Do you have any more books on Russian literature?” Connor asks out of the blue.
You turn back to him. “Yeah. Russians of the past loved to philosophize and think. There wasn’t much else to do when most of the year was spent below freezing for most people. Why do you ask?”
“I was just curious,” Connor says. “I want to know more about you.”
You do your best to hide the bitterness that boils up in your belly. You honestly can’t tell if this is Connor trying to make conversation or another one of his little manipulative tactics. You can do nothing but operate on blind faith.
Connor glances at you out of the corner of his eye, then looks forward. “What is Russian literature about?”
You hem and haw and collect your thoughts before speaking. “It has sobornost, metaphysics, religiosity, intuitionism, positivism, realism… but I like the ones that are more universal. The ones that can apply to everyone.”
“What do you mean?” He says.
“The books about the fear of failure, and the fear of death. How it sucks to be Russian.” You shrug with one arm, trying not to jostle Connor too much. “I mean, all national literatures are – only the name of the nation changes.”
“Hm,” Connor hums and looks down. Looks like you’ve given him something to think about for the time being.
You look over your shoulder, and the computer screen shows that the diagnostic is nearly done. When it finally finishes, you disengage the wires, the palm of your hand and fingers cool where it touched Connor’s skin.
You step back and turn to the computer, looking over the diagnostic report. Everything seems normal, and the ALL SYSTEMS NOMINAL! message at the bottom of the page confirms that.
“Yeah, you’re fine,” you say. “Not a hair out of place.”
You turn and lean back against the desk. Connor is looking down at the ground. He stays like that for a second, then looks up at you.
“Do you have books on the history of the USSR?” He asks. You internally note his (maybe unintentional) dismissal of the diagnostic report.
“Yeah.” You open a drawer and pull out the first book you see, then hold it up for Connor. It’s a book that was published in the late 1900’s, named The Reversal of Archduke Franz Ferdinand: How the Death of Agent Ekaterina Nechayeva Prevented the Collapse of the USSR.
“This one is about the Kollektiv 2.0 Disaster and how the death of Major Sergey Nechayev’s wife inadvertently prevented things from…” You think for a moment. “Well, not from going wrong, but from things getting worse.”
You look down at the book. “It’s the same butterfly effect Archduke Franz Ferdinand created, but in reverse. She saved lives by dying instead of ending them.”
“That’s interesting,” Connor says.
“Somewhat.” You put the book back and shut the drawer, then look back up at Connor. “Kind of like… you. You could’ve died killing that deviant in Stratford Tower – the station android. But you risked that to save human lives.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Why?”
Connor looks at you with those big doe eyes. He blinks and tilts his head to the side. “If the deviant succeeded in its mission of a mass shooting, it would’ve most likely killed Lieutenant Anderson, too. Like I said a few days ago, I need both the Officer and the Lieutenant for maximum efficiency when solving this case.”
“So you put your secondary mission above your first,” you say. “Because hunting deviants is your top objective, yes? So you put the safety of Hank above your primary mission.”
“I…” Connor’s LED turns yellow, then returns to blue. “Yes, I did. Because Lieutenant Anderson’s safety was compromised at that moment.”
You hum and lean back, crossing your arms. You didn’t exactly love putting him in situations like this – ones where he was forced to reflect inwardly, guided by your hand. How you both somehow rounded back to these conversations and topics was almost like a base instinct, spurred on by your primal reptilian hindbrain and his innermost motherboards.
“Why do you keep doubting my non-deviancy status?” Connor finally asks.
“I…” You exhale sharply. “I’m just not used to being around androids that are so expressive. I know it’s part of your… social relations program or your interrogation software, but still. Maybe I’m just a fool.”
You tap the front of the drawer you just shut. “Not a fool regarding books or cybernetics or polymer, but a fool regarding relationships.”
Connor looks at you weirdly. “Officer, we’re not… in a relationship.”
“Not like that!” You feel your face grow warm. “We’re two people that have met each other. By definition, we have a relationship.”
“Oh,” he says. “Well, what do you think of our relationship?”
���I mean…” You look up at the ceiling, your eyes tracing the outlines of the tiles. “I’ve always had trouble putting people into boxes. My mind seems to blur the lines between stranger, acquaintance, and friend. So most people, even friends, just default to some weird in-between.”
Your eyes return to Connor. “Are we… friends? Because I don’t know if we are. I don’t mean that in a bad way, I just… truly don’t know.”
Connor tilts his head to the side. It kind of reminds you of a puppy looking at something it doesn’t understand. “I believe so.”
You allow yourself to feel just a spark of hope, but you’re careful to not let it ignite into a Californian wildfire. You bite the inside of your lip to keep from smiling too widely. “It would be nice to be friends. But… you have to promise me something.”
“Yes?” He says.
You steel your expression. “You admitted to basically manipulating me to get into my good graces. Please, don’t do that again. I don’t want you to be fake around me. I…” You swallow thickly. The creature of pride in your belly is baying and scratching at the walls of your stomach. “I don’t want the Connor who kisses ass at every opportunity, or the one who worships the dirt I piss on. I want the real Connor. Even if… even if the real Connor is just a machine.”
Connor just stares at you, almost unblinking. His LED is circling in on itself in a steady yellow. You feel your face start to burn hot with shame and you’re just about ready to fall through the ground. Your eyes fall to the floor.
“Uh, never mind, forget I said –”
“No,” Connor cuts you off. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have done that. I’ll try my best not to… ‘kiss ass’ in the future.”
You feel a laugh bubble up in your throat and you can’t even stop it before it spills from your lips. It’s so sudden that you have to bring a hand to your mouth to try to silence yourself.
Connor looks at you inquisitively. “Why are you laughing?”
“You…” You giggle, then clear your throat. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you curse. It sounds weird coming from you. Like it’s foreign.”
“I’ve always been able to curse,” Connor says. “I just don’t feel the need to.”
“I know,” you say. “It’s just… odd, is all. I’m not used to it. Like when someone tells you the sky is blue. You have to pause for a moment, then you think, ‘Oh, of course. That’s obvious.’ Not because you didn’t know that the sky is blue, but because you’re not used to people stating the obvious like that.”
“Huh.” Connor looks down at the floor. “You talk a lot. It’s useful for my machine learning algorithms.”
You perk up a little at that. To hear Connor say that he likes when you talk, even in a completely roundabout way, is… weirdly comforting. (You can faintly feel the dry grass around the spark of hope catching fire in your chest. The proud beast stomps out the growing flames and keeps it in check to make sure it stays just that – a small, flickering spark.)
“Well, khm…” you look away and scratch your cheek. “Thank you.”
Connor nods, but doesn’t speak.
You glance at the clock on one of your many monitors. It’s nearing seven in the evening. “I should probably get going. It’s getting late.”
“It is,” Connor says.
You quickly save everything on your computer and shut off the monitors. You grab your coat from the back of your chair by your desk and shrug it on.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” You say.
“Yes.” Connor’s eyes twitch and his LED flashes yellow for a moment. “Lieutenant Anderson has just alerted me that his request for a meeting with Elijah Kamski has been accepted. It’s set for 11:20 AM tomorrow.”
You nod. “And I’m assuming Hank will swing by to pick me up.”
“Yes,” Connor says. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Officer. Have a good night.”
You smile at him, a lightness in your chest. “You too.”
#riptide writes 🌊#head of false security#dbh connor x reader#connor rk800 x reader#rk800 x reader#connor x reader#detroit become human#dbh connor#dbh rk800#dbh x reader#detroit become human x reader#dbh connor x you#connor rk800 x you#rk800 x you#connor x you#dbh x you#detroit become human x you#connor rk800
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Do we ask Niall to be our man of honor since Gemma is Harry’s best woman? If so I’d love to see a little something of us asking him because as snarky as Niall is I know he’d cry 😂😊😊
Hiii lovey!!! Oh 1000% Niall James Horan is the man of honor, I will happily give you how it went when you asked him! I love how in this series it’s normal to just assume everyone is always crying 😂💖
-find all things Lonely here✨
A/N: Niall doesn’t do well with surprises but this really isn’t what he was expecting, enjoy a look at how you and Niall communicate because you two are besties✨
“Why are you in such a rush?” You ignore Niall’s question as your grip on his hand tightens as you practically drag him towards the back of the restaurant, smiling at the bartender as you head towards a private room that you had spent the better half of the afternoon decorating with the help of a very huffy and puffy Harry who wanted nothing more than to enjoy his Saturday lazing about on the couch, but who was he to tell his fiancé no. “What are we doing back here? Last time you and I went through a door like this it was in Paris and we accidentally stumbled upon that sex club place and honestly I still have nightmares about what we saw so please just tell me-”
“Niall.” Your voice stops his ranting as the two of you are now standing outside the door of the private room. You give his hand a little squeeze making him look down at you, his eyes are a bit wide and he’s bitting his bottom lip so you know he’s nervous for whatever’s on the other side of the door and you want to laugh because you know what’s waiting for him but you don’t you just bring your free hand up and give his cheek a playful pat. “We swore we’d never talk about that night again didn’t we? But don’t worry there’s nothing weird behind this door. Trust me.” You watch him nod as he lets out a deep breath as you let go of his hand so you can take a small step back and let him enter the room on his own. He runs a hand through his hair and looks at you over his shoulder and when you just give him a reassuring smile he turns his attention back to the daunting black door in front of him.
“Fuck it.” You laugh as he mumbles the words as his hand grips the doorknob giving it a twist so it’ll open. You slowly follow him into the little room and you clasp your hands behind your back as you watch Niall take in the sight before him. “You’ve got to be shitting me.” His eyes are the size of golf balls as he fully steps into the room, not sure what to focus on first.
You know the surprise in his voice is genuine because while Niall Horan may be your bestfriend, when he found out you and Harry were getting married he didn’t assume he was going to be apart of it other than a guest or maybe a groomsman for Harry but that was a big maybe since everyone has always considered Niall more yours than Harry’s. So asking him to not only be in your wedding party but the Man of Honor wasn’t something he was expecting so he surly wasn’t prepared to be asked like this.
You got fancy silver balloons that spelled out “Be my Man of Honor?” And hung them on the wall above the little couch that was in the room and then got white and powder pink streamers and hung them from the ceiling framing the balloons and on the wall across from the couch you picked some of your favorite photos of the two of you throughout your decade long friendship and clipped them to some fairy lights that Harry neatly hung in nice rows while you stood off to the side and supervised. Sitting on the table in front of the couch was a basket filled with random things Niall would need to help plan wedding activities, a flask with his name engraved on it and his title, little bottles of his favorite liquor and a card that would no doubt make him cry when he reads it. But the thing that you know was going to really send him into shock was the two pints of Guinness sitting next to the basket, something you know he’d instantly take as your way of bribing him to say yes and normally he wouldn’t be wrong but this time it was just a token of your love and appreciation for him.
“Did you really think I’d be able to marry that lanky hunk of a man without the help of my bestfriend?” Niall turns to look at you from where he’s standing in the middle of the room and you feel your eyes begin to get that all too familiar sting to them when you see the look on his face. His eyes are still a little wide but glossy and his cheeks are a tiny bit pink while his bottom lip is tucked between his teeth and you know he’s doing his best not to full on lose it.
“You’re a proper asshole for this.” Is all he says before you meet him half way and he’s wrapping his arms around your shoulders bringing you into his chest for a hug. “Like really you get me all dressed up just to make me fucking cry in a back room of a pub.” You just laugh as your arms wrap around his middle, you feel him rest his chin on the top of your head and let out a sigh. “Tammy is gonna be pissed you didn’t ask her.”
“Tammy? You thought I’d ask Tammy to be my maid of honor?” You pull away from him just enough so you can look up at him with a raised brow making him just shrug as he looks down at you. “Niall she doesn’t even like Harry why would I ask her to help me plan my wedding to him?”
“I mean I don’t like him either and here I am.”
“Oh shut up you love him.”
“Yeah whatever. So what’s a man of honor do anyway? Is this a paying gig?” You can’t help but laugh and shake your head as Niall releases his hold on you so he can walk over to the table and take a look at what you put in the basket. “Is this a checklist of things I have to do? Why do I have to do so bloody much? It’s your wedding not mine.” His tone is teasing as he flips through the notebook you put in the basket that had random things in it that you found online that listed what most maid of honors did so you figured a man of honor could do them as well. “This says hold the bride’s dress while she pees? Now I love you and all but I’m not holding your dress while you pee.” He states as he looks from the notebook and over to you.
“I held your hair when you got sick at Halloween two years ago when Amelia was out of town.”
“That was a wig so it wasn’t even my actual hair.”
“So? I still held it while you got sick. So why can’t you hold my dress while I pee? It’s not like you’ll see anything you big ninny.”
“Ninny? Real mature. Does Harry know one of my jobs is watching you take a piss?”
“No but-”
“You know how weird he’s always been about people getting too close to you and that was before he went and decided to marry you. I can’t imagine he’s gonna take too kindly to seeing me follow you into the bathroom so I can assist you in taking a leak.”
“Fine I’ll have someone else assist me during my bathroom breaks you asshole.”
“I’m not an asshole I’m being a proper gentleman and not trying to get an inappropriate glimpse of my bestfriend’s lady bits on her actual fucking wedding day.” The two of you stare at each other for a moment, both of you have your hands on your hips and playful glares in your eyes but Niall is first to break as his mouth forms a grin before he starts laughing making you laugh as well.
“I love you Niall.” Your voice is soft once you finally get your laughter under control, you reach for one of his hands so you can give it a nice squeeze. “Thank you for being my man of honor.” You add making him shrug as he leans down and grabs one of the pints of Guinness off the table with his free hand.
“I love you too and you’re welcome because it says here I get to plan your bachelorette party so you’re in for a world of fun love.” You roll your eyes when he shoots you a wink before he brings the pint up to his lips to take a good long swig. “I’m thinking strippers and a round of golf. How’s that sound?”
“Horrible.”
#lonely series#harry styles series#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles request#harry styles au#harry styles fluff#harry styles x reader#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#Harry styles x bestfriend!reader#Harry styles fanfic#harry styles#famous!harry#boyfriend!harry#one direction fanfiction#my little lanky baby#niall horan#my little irish marshmallow#bestfriend!niall#harry styles drabble
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Taking Care of Brahms’ Wounds
Brahms Heelshire Oneshot
You often spent an hour or a few in the afternoon reading, and that is exactly what you were doing when a soft knock sounded just above your head. You turned around and gazed at the full body mirror attached to the wall adjacent to the bed. The mirror rattled lightly before being gently pushed to the side, a hand wrapping its fingers around the metallic runes of a mirror frame.
This was your and Brahms’ passage way between the house and the walls. It hadn’t been long since he first presented himself to you, so he still wasn’t totally comfortable leaving his safe spots. His head poked through the wall, his eyes glinting with tears behind the broken mask. Immediately you stood up and briskly walked towards him.
“Oh Brahms, what’s happened? Why do you look so upset?”
He climbed through the wall and used his non-dominant hand to ease the mirror back into place. You took his right hand into yours and gasped, blood splotching everywhere. The skin was red and puffy, and he winced every time his fingers twitched.
“How did this even happen?”
He shrugged. So useful.
“Okay… So what did you cut yourself on? Metal? Glass? Plastic? What?” You guided him out of the room and safely down the stairs. It took him a while to answer. That could’ve meant he was trying to think of the right thing to say, or he was summoning a lie.
“Porcelain,” he spoke quietly, his voice slightly muffled under the material. Standing at the kitchen sink, he placed his fingers under the tap and you turned the water onto a warm temperature. He slowly eased his hand under the stream, his hand jolting in discomfort. “You cut your hand on the mask? It doesn’t look that sharp. Were you running around with it or something?”
That was your attempt to make some humour or light of the situation. You very much didn’t believe him. The cut wasn’t too deep, but it was certainly a concern. You sat him down at the dining room table and raced for the first aid kit in the kitchen cabinets. He shrugged his shoulders and sighed.
You took out a disinfectant cream and spread the cold substance just around the cut. Brahms jerked his hand away but you were quick to pull it right back. He huffed in anguish. Clearly this wasn’t the only thing upsetting him. “Chill out, I’m helping you.”
You quickly wrapped a bandage around his coarse palms and stapled it off with clips. He flexed his hand with a mesmerised look in his eyes, admiring the love that may or may not have been put into that procedure. He still doesn’t fully read social cues or facial expressions, but at this point just let him believe what he wants.
You slumped back in your seat, smiling softly. “Soooo. What actually happened? It definitely wasn’t your mask.”
He rolled his eyes and rested his chin on his free hand, his elbow creaking into the mahogany table. “I was angry,” his voice was gruff and deep. You nodded, remembering the little argument you had earlier.
You told him that if he wanted to practice proper hygiene, he would need to start showering daily, or at least every 2-3 days. You even offered to let him shower with you so he wouldn’t have to be alone the whole time. But being told what to do must have really pissed him off. Maybe you had been bossing him around too much lately.
“So, out of anger, you broke something? What did you break?”
He gulped. His face shied away as he muttered something. You leaned closer, grinning. “Sorry bub, what was that?”
“The mirror!” he growled in a hushed voice.
He was talking about the vanity mirror in his hide out spot. It was taken out of his mother’s room after her deliberate passing. Your heart broke for him. To comfort him, you opened your arms for a hug and he leaned forward. Your hands wrapped around him and rubbed his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll buy you a new one. Just like it, as if it never left.”
His posture loosened in your embrace as you said that - he knew you meant it.
“Do you want me to kiss your hand to make the pain feel better?” His face lifted and you watched the smile appear in his eyes as he chuckled. You brought his bandages hand to your lips and kissed all over his knuckles and fingers and the back and palm of his hand. The skin was soft yet gravelly; somehow warm and cold at the same time.
You both say there for a little while, just sort of hugging it out. Moments like these weren’t too common, but that never made them uncomfortable memories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Masterlist
#brahms heelsire x reader#brahms heelshire#brahms the boy#the boy 2016#horror#imagine#x reader#oneshot#slashers#horror movies
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Howls in the Heights
Art and story by me, for the TF anthology Shifts from the Shelves.
Story:
Smoke hung in the air like an unanswered question. Between the blotchy wallpaper and the liquor-stained floorboards, the poker room couldn’t accurately be described as “nice.” But Donovan owed me a favor, so for the time being this space in the back of his bar was mine. The faint music of a jazz combo leaked under the door, distant and a little sad. I stretched, twine running through my fingers as I looped it around the tack pinning a balding man’s mug-shot to the wall.
“That one’s kind of handsome,” Rita mused from behind me.
I scoffed and shot a glance over my shoulder. Rita stood close enough that I could smell her perfume. She was watching me map my thoughts on the wall with casual amusement, her dark eyes skimming lightly over the collection of newspaper clippings and photographs.
“Maybe he was. But he’s not looking so good anymore.” I uncapped a pen and drew a large red X over his face. “Handyman Wharton was a real piece of work. But no one deserves to die like that. These murders… in all my years of investigating, I’ve never seen anything like them.”
“Mmm, sounds to me like he had it coming,” she breathed as she leaned her chin on my shoulder. Rita was beautiful in a way that made it hard to think straight. She had wavy hair that fell like a black curtain on one side of her face, eyelids and lips done up in a matching smoky coal. Tonight she wore a cocktail dress that poured smoothly down her curves. The thin fabric left very little to the imagination.
Rita and I had crossed paths in a couple chance encounters over the last couple weeks. She had a habit of turning up just as things were getting interesting, and making just about everything a little more complicated. For some reason she seemed to take a shine to me. We’d started spending nights together, and she proved as enthusiastic between the sheets as she was on the dance floor. Maybe more so.
“I’m getting close,” I murmured softly. “All these bodies—there’s a pattern here. Crime barons, crooked cops… someone is making a power play for this city’s underworld. Whoever they are, they can’t hide from the truth.”
Rita slid off my back and glided over to the card table where she’d left her lighter. She sat, one leg crossed over the other, and took a long drag from the mouthpiece of her cigarette holder.
“I like watching you think, Detective. It’s like watching an old car struggle up a steep road.”
“This car still has some miles left in it,” I chuckled. “See here—Wharton was a regular at the Glass Eye. You remember, where we met at the craps table. And here, if my sources are right, Wharton was smuggling ammo for the Pinstripe gang. They’re based out of Turnstile, where you took me to see that boxing match. Hell, if I didn’t know any better Rita I’d say…”
Something cold ran down my spine. Old instincts flared to life, telling me I’d just stumbled into something big. My eyes flitted from headline to headshot, arcs of twine adding up in an intricate equation. My thoughts clicked like a typewriter, checking hunch against evidence, step-by-step. It was impossible but… the data points aligned. How could…
“Ahhh… starting to put the pieces together, are we, darling?” Rita’s voice found me from far away, as if I was at the bottom of a well. I turned to face her, limbs numb.
“You…”
She smiled, white teeth flashing in the smoky gloom. “Of course it was me, dear. It was all me. All along.”
“But… the bodies. They were torn apart. How did you…”
She laughed in that pitying little way she did when she knew something I didn’t. The melodic sound of it almost made me want to laugh with her.
“Mhmhmm aww, you still look so confused! Don’t worry sweet thing, this one is above your pay grade.” She stood with a little flourish, like a magician’s assistant. “Here. Perhaps a demonstration will make you understand.”
A part of my mind, not sure which, suddenly sounded alarm bells. An instinct to run pumped through me, made my heart beat fast and my perception sharpen. Rita was just standing there, but some awareness deep in my hindbrain was screaming danger. Predator. Flee.
I gritted my teeth. Not yet. Not when I was so close to the answer.
A shiver ran across Rita’s pale skin, starting at her back and working out to her limbs. I could see her hair stand on end. She stretched, luxuriating in the movement. Her lips parted, and a long sigh streamed from her throat like a release of pressurized air. “Hahhhh… You’re about to see who I really am, dearest.”
A quiet snapping noise, then another. Dozens of meaty clicks inside her like the sound of dislocating joints. Rita pitched forward, bending double in a violent motion that knocked the card table behind her slamming to the floor. She gasped, lurching upright with an ecstatic grin on her face. Her eyes! They had changed, darker around the edges and brighter in the middle. Her pupils reflected light like burning headlights. I couldn’t look away.
“All the rest, it’s an… affectation. Like a favorite dress that I wear around town.”
Her elbow-length gloves were starting to tear. I could see dark fur through the rips, black claws cutting neatly through the satin fingertips. She groaned, and I could hear the timbre of her voice roughening. Something cracked in her legs. Her feet shifted, pushing her taller inch by inch as they extended into long sinewy paws.
Her dress clung tightly to her curves as her frame broadened. The cloth strained, her collar line deepening as the flesh of her shoulders and chest rippled with new bulk. I could see her nipples pressing through the black cloth, erect with sensation.
She gestured to the dress, to her glittering necklace and sheer stockings. “This, all these pretty things. It used to be me… Gruuhh.” Her voice faltered as an involuntary growl rattled through her. She smiled sweetly, regaining her composure. “But not anymore.”
The fabric gave with a loud tearing noise as a large tail, black and shaggy, thrust out behind her. She took a few balancing steps forward, then reached up to brush the hair out of her face with one clawed hand. Her breathing was coming deep and heavy now, hot fog mingling with smoke in curls around her smile.
“Don’t get me wrong, darling. I do love our little song-and-dances. Being the stunning vision on your arm is a treat! But the real me can’t dazzle a cocktail party in quite the same way.”
She grimaced, and I could see her teeth lengthening into interlocking fangs. Fur crept down her face, pressing in at the edges of her cheeks and trailing down her nose.
She blinked and stared deep into me with those burning eyes. “I clean up pretty nice, wouldn’t you say? I certainly had you fooled!” She cackled with a wild abandon that approached madness.
Her shaking laughter choked off into gasps as she convulsed with another surge of growth. The wet sounds of her bones rearranging were almost drowned out by the noise of her widening hips and shoulders finally tearing her dress to ribbons. I could just see her face masked in shadow, distorting and stretching as her mouth extended into a snout full of pointed lupine teeth. Rivulets of saliva dripped from her black lips.
I stumbled away instinctively, felt the pins of my map wall dig into my back. Stray clues drifted to the floor like leaves. I could feel my cheeks burning hot as I tried to look away, but I couldn’t pull my eyes from her nakedness as it was torn free before me.
Between gasping breaths, she laughed violently. “YOUR FACE!” she snarled, muzzle curling into a feral grin. “You weren’t this SHY when we MADE LOVE LAST NIGHT!”
She was right, of course. I had seen every inch of her in our evenings together. But there was something about seeing her this way—it was rawer, deeper, more intimate and carnal. I was enraptured with a fascination that had never possessed me during our previous dalliances. I couldn’t understand it. I was hopelessly lost in the rhythm of her shifting flesh. Why? The scene before me was horrific, so why was I feeling this way?
“You’re… I just… I…” I stammered, struggling to put words in order.
“You still WANT me, DON’T YOU?” She was shouting now. “I can smell your desire… What is it you always say? YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM THE TRUTH, DETECTIVE!”
That was it. I was more attracted to her now than I ever had been before. What was wrong with me? Why did my heart feel like it was about to pound its way out of my chest? I shut my eyes, turning away with a strangled cry.
“I don’t understand! Please… I can’t, I don’t…”
“LOOK AT ME, DARLING.”
I blinked toward her, seeing only blurred glimpses. I saw the fur bristling from muscle-laden thighs, the tattered sweat-soaked remnants of her dress stretched over her rippling abdominals. God, parts of her were still so human. She wasn’t an animal or a person - she was something monstrous in-between. She was a terrifying beast, but she was still recognizably… her.
“LOOK AT ME!” she roared, and the room shook. I cried out, and opened my eyes to behold her entirely.
She was beautiful.
She was so beautiful it hurt.
I stepped toward her, and fell into her arms as she embraced me. We fell together to a gasping heap on the floor. We began anew, pressing ourselves into one another with bestial fervor.
The case would have to go on a little while longer.
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. . . ♡ TIKTOK ! ? 🧧 TREND ★ ゚๑
ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪ we listen, we don’t judge! ❫ ୧ ⊹ ࣪
© 2024 , svt-rosalie rosalie masterlist!
gonna follow my feelings
and get with you, boy
magnetic , illit
Rosalie has been seeing this certain trend all over her personal TikTok account. It’s where the couple sits down in front of the camera and says things about themselves or their relationship that the other doesn’t know yet but can’t judge them for it!
The young girl thought it was a hilarious idea and wanted to do with her partner. She was sending the video clips to Jihoon for a little over a week before he finally caught on and asked if she wanted to do the trend together.
Of course she said yes! That was the whole point of sending him sending him so many TikTok’s and Reels . . . to make it seem like it was originally his idea (she does everytime there is a couples trend going around on social media that she’s knows she’ll have to convince him to do).
So here they were now sitting on their couch together; Sabrina their cat was snuggled in Jihoon’s lap whilst their dog Pixie was lying in between them. The younger girls phone was leaning up against a couple of books on the coffee table recording their current conversation.
Rosalie looked at her Husband, “I’ll start for us. So you know how I really like you in your glasses right?” The older boy nodded, eyes squinting suspicious of what she’s going to say next.
“Well sometimes I hide your contacts so you have to wear your glasses.” Rosie avoided all eye contact and just stared straight at the camera trying to not laugh.
Jihoon couldn’t help but to widen his eyes in disbelief.
“Where do you hide my contacts?” He asks, perplexed.
The girl laughed and looked over at him, “If I told you that, you wouldn’t wear your glasses.”
Jihoon rolls his eyes playfully before moving on to his ‘confession’ of sorts.
“Honestly, mines not any better.” he states giggling a little, “Whenever I’m wanting more attention from you, I will turn the AC down so you get cold and cuddle with me for warmth.”
“That’s why our electric bill is so high!” Rosie gasped.
Woozi pointed a finger at her and laughed “Hey we don’t judge! Plus you don’t even pay the bills, so don’t worry about it.” He states.
It was true, Jihoon didn’t like her worrying about any of the household bills so he pays them never asking her for a dime, he wants her to spend her money on what she wants and needs but even then he probably gives her his card to pay for it.
Rosie nods in agreement and starts petting Pixie whilst speaking her next words.
“Whenever we’re going out for the night and you ask if I like the outfit you’re wearing I tell you no so I can see you shirtless.” The poor girl starts blushing like crazy and laughs out of embarrassment.
“I’m not judging, I swear! But you do know we’re married right? If you want to see me shirtless you don’t even have to ask.” Jihoon smirks
Rosalie softly smacks him in his arm, “Stop you’re making me blush even more.” The girl softly presses her hands to her cheeks to make the redness go away but to no ones surprise her face looks like a tomato with how much she’s blushing.
“One day I tripped and accidentally broke your flower vase on the table and I don’t know why but I panicked when you asked about it so I blamed it on Sabrina.” Jihoon said.
If their cat was human she would be cursing her make owner out. It kind of looked like Sabrina was giving Jihoon the stank eye to be honest.
Rosalie gasped, “Oh, I’m so going to judge you for that one. Why’d you blame it on my baby Sabrina.” the girl pouted and grabbed her cat from Jihoon’s lap and started petting and giving apology kisses to the Ragdoll. “She didn’t get any treats that day because I thought she was a bad girl. You’re not a bad girl Sabrina, I’ll make sure you get extra treats tonight!” The cat just meowed and cuddled closer to her female owner.
The two moved on, though Rosalie was still cuddling her cat like she was a baby and there dog Pixie was now on the ground messing with one of her many toys.
“So sometimes I’ll purposely wear my high heels so when we kiss you have to lean up to reach me.” The girl stays nonchalant petting her cat though she really wants to laugh seeing as how out of the corner of her eye, she can see her husband’s shocked face.
“That’s diabolical.” Jihoon states in disbelief. He didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry to be honest.
Rosalie just shrugged, “We listened and we don’t judge!”
Jihoon nodded and smiled “It’s okay because sometimes I hide your shoes when we’re going out so you’ll want to stay home and watch shows together instead.” He stated it so coolly too, legs crossed and his right arm slung over his wife’s shoulder acting as if he had no care in the world.
“We listen and we don’t judge.” He says laughing at her shocked face.
“Fine. Last one!” Jihoon nodded at his wife’s words.
Rosalie took a deep breath and prepared herself for what she was about to confess to not only her husband but to their fans as well.
“When you asked if you should cut your long hair and I said it was up to you and I wouldn’t mind either way. I lied, I cried for hours after you cut it!” Rosalie clasped a hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing.
Jihoon busted out laughing, he had no idea that his long hair meant that much to the younger girl. “Hey your not suppose to judge me!” Rosie pouts.
“I’m not judging you honey, but if you told me you liked it better long I would’ve kept it like that for a little while more.” He just wanted the kiss the pout off of her lips, Rosalie was just way to adorable about this.
“It’s okay, if it makes you feel any better when I first started liking you I started to work out more because you said you liked a certain anime character that had a lot of abs and I really wanted to impress you.” He said to make his wife feel better, plus it was his last little ‘We listen but we don’t judge’ confession so he didn’t mind telling her or anyone else.
Rosalie couldn’t help but smile at him and laugh, the pout on her face was long gone.
“I would never judge you for that. Plus it really did impress me!” She said.
“I knew it would, Jeonghan was wrong!”
TikTok Comments
roseswrld they are so cute!!!! omg :(((
roseflvr wait they kept saying they were married, DID THEY HAVE THEIR CEREMONY ALREADY?????!!!!
rosette no because woozi i’m judging you too, why’d you blame the case breaking on poor sabrina
tigerose rosie i cried for 2 days when he cut his hair… you’re not the only one
prkjhye if i was woozi’s partner id be all up on him too ain’t no one judging you girl
armycarat35 jihoon calling rosie honey is all i need in life
ihugrosie so we’re just ignoring that jihoon said they were married? okay.
undrwater MY LOVEEEEES
click here to join rosie’s taglist!
taglist — @angie-x3 @alixnsuperstxr @allthings-fandoms @peachyaeger @sakufilms @aysxldea @swagcandyfun @wonwooz1 @s4nsmoon @seolarzone @miyx-amour @novwonia @marissa-11 @magicsoyeon @skzfairies @btskzfav @vhsdolly @vlbi @iamawkwardandshy @yaebbinnie @conniesbbymama @jihoonsbbygirl
#𐙚. rosalie-tiktok#kpop added member#14th member of seventeen#kpop female member#kpop female oc#seventeen 14th member#kpop female addition#kpop female reader#kpop oc#seventeen#kpop#seventeen kpop#svt x reader#svt#seventeen female member#seventeen x oc#seventeen x y/n#seventeen x you#seventeen fluff#idol!addition#idol!oc#idol!reader#idol!au#seventeen female oc#seventeen female addition#female addition#kpop female idol#woozi x reader#woozi#woozi x you
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45. double date
“i’ve been absolutely dying to go to this cafe ever since yn dropped that brunch pic on twitter!” kaveh squealed standing outside the cafe waiting for you and sethos. his hair was tied up in a low bun, with clips in his hair. his boyfriend raising an eyebrow and giving him a weird look. “seriously? being excited over such a trivial matter is awfully childish,” al haitham murmured under his breath. “whatever! anyways, do you think yn and sethos are running late?” the blonde asked, trying to make conversation. truthfully, kaveh was nervous. he was anxious to see his crush longtime former crush with another guy. not to mention that the entire week since exams had felt so stressful due to the number of quarrels he and al haitham had. “well obviously they are considering that they aren’t here yet.” the time was 2:15, however, the two of you were nowhere to be in sight.
“... yeah you’re right… hey um, i’ve been wanting to talk about something important lately and if we have the time–” “oh my god we are so so sorry for being late!” there you were, running towards the couple. “sethos and i were getting ready and then i got distracted-” “we both got distracted babe. don’t put it all on yourself!” he chuckled at your out-of-breath state. “it’s fine! don’t worry about it! c’mon, let’s go in.”
the four of you talked and chatted while waiting for the totoro bread buns. “so, yn! when did you and sethos meet?” the blonde across the table asked you. “at the party you two threw like two weeks ago! i was so wasted when we met and then we ended up kissing at haitham’s front door…!” you giggled, covering your face. “that moment was such a blur! he ended up giving me his number after tighnari caught us!”
“aww that’s so cute–” “dating someone you’ve only known for two weeks is irrational.” al haitham scoffed. the table was silent. “... i mean sethos and i aren’t actually dating though?” you nervously laughed it off, then looked away out the window. “oh my god that was so fucking insensitive for you to say! you’ve been acting like a cold jerk ever since exams ended. just what is your problem?” kaveh exclaimed, standing up from the table and placing down his cash. “i’m leaving. i’ll see you guys around.”
CULT OF DIONYSUS ❀ prev ✿ masterlist ✿ next
al haitham x reader x kaveh SYNOPSIS kaveh, al haitham and you are close friends and went to the same high school. but after your junior year, you left them and sumeru behind for liyue’s 2 year med school exchange program. now you’re back in sumeru for a class reunion and attending sumeru akademiya.
note : hii i'm acc so sorry for being so dead LMAO umm anyways, i wrote all this just now so lmk if there are any errors! i'll be trying to update at least once a week now bc i wanna finish cod before 2024 ends!! tysm for reading <33!
#˚₊‧ ა 𐙚 cult of dionysus ꒰ al haitham x reader x kaveh ꒱#al haitham x reader#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham smau#al haitham smau#kaveh x reader#kaveh smau#al haitham x kaveh#genshin smau#genshin impact smau#genshin x reader
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