#ever had someone walk past you in the store | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justmeinadaze · 12 hours ago

Text

I Want You: Part 2 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Please forgive an errors. Mentally and now physically I haven't been 100% but I needed this. I like delving into their minds.

Warnings: Serial Killer Dominate Steddie & Sub Fem Y/N, SMUT, roleplay style (kidnapping and tied to a chair), dirty talk, light choking, light smacking, light hair pulling, etc. Aftercare always!

ANGST, I mean the whole relationship is angsty, she can tell they are getting antsy because they need to kill, suggests roleplaying what they do on her, she is knocked out with a needle but nothing happen while she's unconscious and they explain it was a small sedative so she could sleep. They do get into a fight (they are afraid to show her that particular headspace) and she leaves. They stalk her while she's away but she assumes this and encourages. Mentions of murder and blood, brief conversation about someone in power abusing their position and Steve briefly mentions a case involving domestic violence, I think that's it. All in all this relationship isn't healthy for obvious reasons but these 3 bounce off of each well.

Word Count: 6002

Part One/Donate <3

They were starting to get antsy; you could tell.

It had been about a couple of months since you found out about Eddie and Steve’s recreational activities and since then you had noticed a few quarks about them that didn’t bother you one bit.

The metalhead was the easiest to learn about as he unfolded his personality for you willingly. You found him a lot fiddling with his knives, even more so when he worked on the computer at home.

“What got you into your fascination with that?”, you asked one day as you gestured towards the weapon that was digging into the wood of his desk.

“Um, I’m not sure. I remember when I was about thirteen, I walked past this store in our town and they had this gorgeous, sleek, buck knife in the display. I asked the man how much it was and he said it didn’t matter because I’d never be able to afford it as a Munson.”

As he growled at his last sentence, you slid onto his lap and tenderly kissed his cheek.

“I broke the window that night and stole it. Ever sense then, I’ve been collecting and utilizing them. Do, uh, do you want to see something?”

His eyes light up adorably as you nod and he gently pushes you off his legs before running to his bedroom and reappearing with a smaller blade.

After taking your hand and pulling you behind him, you watch as his arm rears back and throws the knife with a prominent whoosh sound as it leaves his grasp sticking to the wall across from him.

“Holy shit! Eddie, that was amazing! Can you teach me how to do that?”

Again, his whole demeanor shines as he practically bounces to grab the weapon and shuffles back to place it in your hand.

“Ok, so you’re going to want to plant your feet, yeah, just like that.”, he murmurs into your ear as he presses his body to yours eliciting a small smirk from you. “Then you’ll want to bring your arm as far back as you can and throw.” His large hand encompasses yours as he demonstrates, his other holding your tummy to allow his own limb to wrap around your waist.

“Mhmm, just like that, sweetheart. What helps me is imagining someone I hate or someone that hurt me…or you…” Your head turns to look at him but he continues to glare forward until his features soften when you kiss his cheek. “Go ahead, baby. You can do it.”

As soon as he backed away from you, you envisioned that woman in prison who jumped you in the lunchroom; her sarcastic laugh and mocking tone as she made fun of you to the other women while she hit you.

Eddie couldn’t help how hard he got as he noticed your face change and you reared your arm back before throwing the knife roughly into the wall across from you. It didn’t stick for long, making you jump as it fell to the floor with a loud thud.

“That was fucking phenomenal, princess. I’m so proud of you!”, he clapped while stepping towards you only to realize then that you were shaking. Cupping your cheeks in his palms, he turned you to fully face him as his thumbs wiped away your tears. “You’re safe, Y/N. No one is ever going to hurt you like that ever again. We’d never allow that.”

Your arms abruptly wrapped around him and he pressed your head into his chest as you cried.

You didn’t know it but Steve saw that exchange, he saw everything.

Unlike his friend, he wasn’t that keen to being open but you accepted it allowing him space to process everything however he needed to, aware his eyes were always following you and studying. For a while you thought he would never fully let you in until one evening when you a woke to find his side of the bed empty.

Tiptoeing down the hall, you found him at his desk in his own room flipping through paperwork.

“It’s not polite to linger, honey.”, he teased without even lifting his gaze from the things in front of him.

“I’m sorry. I just woke up and you weren’t there.”

“Yeah, I was having some trouble sleeping and I didn’t want to bother either of you so I thought I’d come do some work.”

Grabbing one of his chairs, you scoot it towards him, pausing when his eyes snap up to see what you’re doing.

“I’m sorry. I should have asked…May I move this so I can sit beside you?” Silently he nods, focusing again on the work in front of him. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Steve’s irises find yours once more, this time filled with confusion especially when you gesture towards his desk.

“You want to help me?”

“If you want. I don’t want to fuck up any hard work though. I’ve seen how thorough you are with your cases.”, you smile his way.

“I mean…not anything to really fuck up… I’m, um, looking into phone conversations between my client and her boyfriend. Eddie pulled these for me but it’s a lot of bullshit to wade through. Flirtatious texts and or ‘Can you grab this thing from the store?’”, he chuckles as he leans back in his seat.

“What are you looking into exactly?”

“Instances of him threatening or being abusive. His lawyer is saying my client is insane and attacked him but she’s saying it’s self-defense.” His eyes flick to you as you tilt your head to scan through the paper in front of him. “You don’t have to help with all this intense stuff. You had a long day. Why don’t you go back to bed and—”

“You missed something.”, you interrupted as you pointed to a sentence. “This right here…He’s being passive aggressive with his wording here. I know with texts sometimes things get lost in the lack of vocal inflection but…my dad used to say bullshit like this to us all the time.”

Leaning back in your own seat, your eyes locked on his as you watched them change the same way they did that night you were together with “the real them”.

“Why are you still here?”

Nonchalantly, you shrug your shoulders as you smirk his way.

“Still here in the room or in this relationship?”

“I know you know the answer to that.”

“I do but I want to hear you say it.”

“Are you afraid of us? Afraid if you don’t stay we’ll hurt you.”

Pouting out your lips sarcastically, you shake your head.

“Hm, no. I already told you I’m not afraid of you and I know you won’t hurt me. Are YOU afraid of ME? Afraid if I do stay I will hurt YOU?”

“Listen here, little girl. I’m not afraid of anything especially a little brat like you.”

“Good to know. Now do you want my help or should I go back to bed?”

Steve laughs under his breath as he shakes his head.

“Go to sleep, Y/N.”

Nodding, you do as he says but when he hears the sound of sheets moving, he spins around to find you crawling into his bed and closing your eyes.

You listen to him huff as he tosses his pen on the desk and runs his fingers through his hair. After a couple of moments, the click of the lamp tells you he turned it off before you’re suddenly lifted off the mattress and carried back to Eddie’s room.

When he places you down, you half expect him to leave but when he lifts the covers and climbs in behind you, you can’t help but smile. Fingers caress your face as you push your back as close to his chest as possible.

“I’m sorry. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to let the mask fall and be me. I don’t think I’ve ever been able to… Please be patient with me, honey.”, he whispers as he pulls you tighter to him. “I promise I’m trying.”

As the weeks went by, you found yourself spending more time at their house and their little quarks became more evident the longer they went without a kill.

Eddie was much more jittery than usual, spending more time either on his computer or playing with his knives. Some nights, you would find him scribbling in his journal you had found while heavy metal blared from his headphones. One night while he slept, you opened it to find more sketches of you with words doodled in ink off to the side.

“I don’t want her to hate me. She’s gonna hate me. I need to… but she won’t want me… Monster. I’m a monster…”

Steve became much more agitated, snapping at every little thing and swimming laps in the pool from morning to night.

You hated seeing them in pain, choosing to confront them one Saturday afternoon.

“How long do you usually wait between…you know?”

The lawyer’s shoulders stiffened as he continued picking at the food in the bowl in front of him.

“Depends…Months usually…”, Eddie answers sullenly with a touch of apprehension.

“It’s been a few months since Judge White. Have you been looking—”

“Why!?”, Steve interrupts. “What the fuck do you care, Y/N?”

“Because I can see how it’s affecting you two. If this is something you need, I understand. If you want, I can…I can go back to my sisters so you both can do what you need—”

“What we do takes more care and patience than we are willing to be away from you for.”

“Aw…that was actually kind of sweet, Steve.”, you beam as his eyes flick towards you, softening for a moment before darkening again. “How about…to take the edge off…you play with me.”

“We don’t want to hurt you.”, Eddie mumbled, his hair blocking his face from your view.

“No, baby, I know and I’m not asking you or telling you to. It can be like roleplay…just do what you normally…minus the killing part…”

Their gaze shifts towards each other, having a silent conversation before the lawyer’s hardened features meet yours.

“No. We’ve been getting better at being vulnerable with you, Y/N, but this…this is too far…To see what we do and how we do it…who we become—”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“You will be if we enter that headspace.”

“Good. Scare me, hell, make me cry but no matter what I know that’s not who you two really are.” They remain silent and you whine as you cross your arms. “What are you afraid of, Steve? That I won’t like you anymore if I see this side of you or that you have no control over it and could actually kill me.”

There. There was the button.

The man’s honey irises set ablaze as he slowly rose to his feet and stalked your way.

“I’m always in fucking control.”

“Then what are you afraid of?”

“Nothing. Now…this conversation is over…accept it or leave.”

After gathering your things, you stomped out the front door but not before slamming it with loud emphasis.

#################

You knew what you were doing.

You were purposely trying to rile them up to push them into releasing all that built up energy but there was only so much you could do from your sister’s apartment.

Knowing Eddie may hack into your computer, you searched dating sites and even arranged dates that you never showed up to. A part of you had a feeling they were on to you because even when you got a bit flirtier with men around you, they did nothing.

It had been a few days and your heart was breaking. You missed them so much.

When you weren’t trying to bait them, you were looking online for jobs and getting rejected because of your criminal record.

Your breaking point was when you actually got dressed up for an interview for them to turn you away in the middle because they called your father who notified them of your “behavior”.

From your car, you stared at the bar entrance, having that eternal debate with yourself that you just now realized you hadn’t been having since you started talking with the guys. You desperately wanted to go to their house and talk to them about how you were feeling but you were so lost in your own brain that you couldn’t bring yourself to drive there.

Your heels clicked along the gravel as you headed for the door but just as your feet touched the sidewalk someone bumped into you almost knocking you over.

“Shit. I’m so sorry, honey. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”, you murmur, adjusting your dress right as your eyes locked with Steve’s beautiful irises that you missed.

Just by looking him over, you could tell he was in a certain headspace. While he was wearing his sleek suit he usually wore to the office, his energy and personality reflected a different kind of charm. He was always kind and sweet before you knew him intimately but this felt intoxicating like you could trust him as a stranger with all your dirty secrets.

“Are you sure? You seem a bit…rattled.”

“I’m, um, I’m sorry. You’re right. I AM a bit scatter brained. It’s been a long week.”

“Don’t be sorry. No harm, no foul.”, he beams showing all his pearly whites. “Can I buy you a drink? We can talk about your brain and I can make up for body slamming you.”, he chuckles.

“I, um…” Steve’s eyeline follows yours as it shifts to the entrance.

When your head hangs, his shiny black shoes fill your sight before his fingers lift your chin.

“Would you rather go for a walk, maybe? There’s a park about a block away.”

“Oh? I don’t know. Walking around a park at night… Haven’t you heard there’s a killer out there?”, you jest, grinning as you tilt your head coyly.

The smirk he tosses your way could make the devil himself blush as he reaches into his pocket and produces a business card with his name on it.

“I’m a lawyer, honey. If I wanted to murder you there are so many other ways I could do it that’s not in park.”

That sentence alone should have all your red flag alarm bells ringing but it doesn’t. Steve is so smooth with his delivery of each word; calculated. He knows how to weave a web like a spider trying to catch prey and like the fly you won’t realize you’re in trouble until you are trapped.

“Ok, Mr…Harrington.”, you reply as you pretend to read the card and hand it back to him. “I’ll follow your lead.”

***

“That’s bullshit. I mean you did your time but they won’t hire you?”, Steve sighed as the two of you continued to walk on the circle track around the well-lit area. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I can talk to the company if you want. There are laws put in put place to not discriminate people with a record especially with only one offense.”

“No, no. It’s alright. I can keep looking. I wouldn’t want to work at a place that’s like that anyway.”

The wind picks up a bit and without hesitation the man takes off his suit jacket to cover your shoulders. You can’t help but inhale his cologne that clung to the material including the smoke smell that reminded you of Eddie.

Taking a seat on a nearby bench, you exhale as your sad eyes take in the scenery.

“What does your boyfriend think about all your work woos?”, he asks as the lawyer takes a seat beside you.

“What makes you think I have a boyfriend?”, you half-heartedly giggle.

“Hey, or girlfriend. I’m not judging.”, Steve teases before his knee lightly pushes yours. “I just assume a beautiful woman like you wouldn’t be out alone on this Thursday evening at midnight. You’d be with them.”

You catch it before he does, them. A slip into his real feelings…

“Him… I meant him.”

“HE told me to accept something or leave…so I left.”

“What couldn’t you accept?”

“That THEY couldn’t accept that I trust them and feel safe with them. Sorry I meant him.”

Steve’s eyes darken as his jaw tightens and he shifts his gaze. You’re pushing and he knows that but you wanted to play their game. He would never let a victim of theirs arrest control from him.

“Well, honey, I’m sure after tonight you’ll understand more why he’s trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need him to protect me, I can handle myself. I’m not afraid of him or you, Mr. Harrington.”

Something sharp pierced your skin as the scenery around you suddenly became blurry and you slumped right into Steve’s arms.

###############

When your eyes fluttered open, you couldn’t move; tied to a chair with your hands restrained behind your back and tape on your mouth.

The building you were in seemed abandoned but somehow felt extremely familiar. The half-done cubicles told you this was most likely going to be an office space and the fact that you could vaguely see the tops of trees outside the window conveyed that you weren’t many stories off the ground.

Cigarette smoke filled your nostrils as your head lulled to the side trying to find the source. Light suddenly illuminated the wall in front of you as words appeared in bright marker.

“Red means stop. Tap your heel twice if you understand.”

Extending your leg out in front of you, you utilized your foot to tap the heel of your shoe twice against the wood floor.

The sound of a projector click filled your ears as the words disappeared and new ones took their place.

“I injected with a small dose of the drug we use to knock people out before we take them.”

*Click*

“Do you feel sick or incoherent? Tap once for yes or twice for no.”

*Tap, Tap*

“Eddie had to write those before we went hunting tonight. Like I’ve told you before, honey, in this headspace, he may as well be a wild animal.”, Steve chuckles menacingly before coming around to stand in front of you.

You were still wearing his jacket but he had rolled up his sleeves as he continued to smoke but what threw you off guard was the blood sticking to parts of him including his cheeks.

“You mentioned your work struggles but you didn’t tell me about your dating problems.”

The projector clicked as the dating profile you created appeared and a few of the candidates you had randomly selected flew by.

“This one is my favorite.”, he sasses as he points to the picture of a generic pretty boy. “You actually talked to that one.”

*Click*

“’Hey, sexy girl, would you be interested in meeting me at The Cavern for dinner?’ ‘Absolutely, gorgeous. See you there in an hour. I need to find the perfect outfit I don’t mind having ripped off later.’”

You couldn’t help but cringe as he mimicked your words in a high pitched, whiney sounding voice.

Your hair blew as you jumped at the feeling of something flying past you, not even phasing Steve as the blade sticks to the wall.

“Yeah, Eddie wasn’t a fan of that. I, on the other hand, knew what you were up to. Trying to elicit a reaction…pushing us…that’s why you never showed up. You didn’t care about any of these fucking assholes. We thought we’d let you keep playing your game though… it wasn’t until we saw things like this that we started getting concerned.”

A black and white photo of you in your car sobbing after another failed interview filled the screen.

“You were trying so hard, Y/N.”

More pictures past with more images of you getting ready in your room, walking up to a building, and hugging your arms around yourself on the way out.

“I knew it was a matter of time before you ended up at a bar. Eddie watched you break in your car, calling me to talk him out of running into the building and slitting the hiring managers throat for hurting you.”

Again, a knife flew past you and again Steve didn’t even flinch.

“I left work and followed you; prayed you wouldn’t take those steps to the front door.”

While shaking his head, he tossed his cigarette to the floor and smushed it with his shoe before stepping forward to rip the piece of tape off your lips and lean his palms against the arms of the chair, his nose just mere inches from yours.

“You promised me you were done drinking when I took your case.” Your lip trembled as your eyes searched his dark, anger fueled ones but when you struggled to respond, his hand shot out to grip your throat. “I’m addressing you, little brat. Now fucking answer.”

“I-I-I’m…I…”

“Why didn’t you come to us?”

“I-I-I…you…”

Fingers suddenly pulled your hair back as a nose pressed to the side of your face.

“Answer his fucking question or I swear to God, sweetheart, I’ll show you what else my knives can do. They don’t just stick to walls.”

Hearing Eddie’s voice after so long had a heavy sigh escape your lips as you keened into his breath that was warming your face.

“Fuck, baby, I missed you.”, he whispered breathily, your thighs clenching as his thick tongue licked up your cheek. “When you said all that bullshit to those other guys, I swear, Y/N, I almost fucking drove over there and took out their fucking hearts.”

“Edward.”

“You’re ours, pretty girl, and this heart…”, he coos as he lightly drags the end of his blade along your chest. “…belongs to us.”

“Eddie.”, Steve said a bit more firmly causing the long-haired boy to growl before backing away. “Answer me, Y/N.”

“You hurt me.”, you murmur, your statement surprising them as the lawyer barely contains his shock. “I trust you both b-but you don’t seem to trust me. Y-You’re afraid of me… that I’m gonna leave… I love you. I want you both.”

“This is what you want, Y/N?”, he asks as he steps back and opens his arms wide to gesture around him. “Animals who bring victims to abandoned buildings to cut apart and dispose of?”

“I don’t think your animals or monsters. H-How many TIMES DO I HAVE TO FUCKING SAY IT!?”

The metalhead came around and smacked your face as Steve turned his back to you. It was only then you realized Eddie to had blood staining a lot of his upper half especially his hands.

“Watch your fucking mouth, little girl.”

“Or what?”, you growl. “You obviously don’t care about what I have to say.”

In swift motions, Steve pushed his friend roughly to the side and cut your binds before slamming your back into the wall. His chest rose and fell as he heavily panted and his wild eyes zeroed on yours as he held Eddie’s knife to your throat.

This was a completely new version of him you had yet to see.

“Why? Why don’t you see us like them?”, he asks forcefully.

“Like who?”

“Steve…”

“Fuck OFF, EDDIE!”, the man shouted, focusing back on you. “People in society. Why don’t you see us like they would?! Why do you fucking want us?!”

“Because you saw me.”, you whimper as you notice his eye lids flutter at your admission. “Society said I was a drunk, spoiled brat who deserves to be punished. Even now that I served my fucking time all they see is the charge and my name and cast me aside. You both looked deeper…just like I do with you…”

Steve’s amber irises soften as his head hangs and he drops the knife to the floor.

“I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean…to…I AM afraid of losing control…I’m afraid of losing you.”

His voice fades into a whisper and you instantly wrap your arms around his neck, pressing his face into your shoulder as you listen to him cry.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby, I promise. I’m not scared of you losing control.”

Something in Steve snaps at your words as his lips passionately kiss yours. Blindly and hastily, you unbuckle his belt and push down his slacks till his cock springs free. Gripping the back of your thighs, he lifts you till your legs are around his waist and you both moan as he maneuvers his hips till he guides himself into your entrance.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as his mouth sucks on your throat, thrusting his length deep and almost desperately into your pussy while your half-lidded eyes searched for the other man.

Eddie was pacing back and forth as he watched you two, more so keeping his eyes on your face as it contorted in pleasure. He wanted to shove his friend away and fuck you till you dripping his cum but he knew patience… at least when it came to the two people he cared about…

“L-Let go, Steve. F-Fuck…I’m ok.”

His large palm suddenly gripped your neck again as his lips caressed the shell of your ear.

“I’m Sir here. S-Steve maintains…our image…not me, baby. I-I’m the killer… under the mask… Fuck…that turns you on, doesn’t it?”

“Yeeesss, Sir.”

“You have a mask to, don’t you?”

“Mmph—yes, Sir.”

After getting a better grip on you, he spins around, walking a couple of steps to the desk that was positioned behind the chair you had been sitting in. Reaching over you, he knocked the projector to the floor with a loud crash before laying you flat with your back against the wood.

Your eyes rolled shut as Steve found his rhythm again, pounding his cock roughly inside of you and overwhelming you in the best possible way. Feeling something cold press to your skin, you hastily looked for the source to find the metalhead cutting your dress apart and yanking it from your body.

His friend smirked his way as if to say thank you before lifting one of your legs over his shoulder and chasing both your highs. As the coil in your belly snapped, you mewled, your eyes locking with his.

“Please…cum. I need you come, baby. I love you so much…please.”

“Oh f-fuck.”

At your words, Steve abruptly folded into himself as his pace faltered and you felt him paint your walls with his release.

No longer able to wait, Eddie pushed his friend out of the way, bending over the desk so you could wrap your arms around his neck and hook your legs around his own waist as he took a seat in the chair you had previously been restrained in.

Struggling with the belt buckle, he grunted in frustration as he absently searched for something to throw in anger finding nothing.

His heavy breathing fanned your face as you tenderly placed your forehead against his and seamlessly unbuckled his belt for him, going the extra mile of unbuttoning his jeans and pulling out his dick for him.

“I love you to.”, you whispered, his glassy eyes watching your lips as a long line of spit fell from them onto his cock.

“You love me? Us?” As you nod, you lift your hips and gradually lower yourself onto him while you both mewl. “Fuck, baby. I-I was afraid when I saw…saw you looking at those guys online…I thought—oh my God—but Steve said…you were just trying to g-get our attention.”

“I was. I swear, Eddie. I’m yours.”

That wild look filled his irises as his grip on your waist tightened, guiding your movements as you bounced.

“You played a dangerous game, Y/N. I almost killed them for even thinking they had a chance with you. You wanted our fucking attention, you got it, little girl. You say you fucking love me? This is me.”, he growls, his small gasps of pleasure hidden under the gruffness.

Your head started to lull onto his shoulder but his palms promptly cup your cheeks forcing you to look at him.

“I could have done it. I could have cut them apart with my knives and made them disappear. I could have fucking ruined those fucking manager’s lives for hurting you. Y/N, I had never been so angry in my fucking life…watching you cry alone… scared…lost…Fuck…”

Eddie’s muscular arms circled around your back and held you to his chest as he slid a bit lower in the chair allowing him to thrust rapidly upward.

“Oh my God! Please!”

His cock repeatedly slammed into that sensitive spot inside you that abruptly had white blinding your eyes as you came. The metalhead grunted at the feeling of your pussy squeezing him before you felt one of his hands come up to cradle the back of your head as he spilled inside of you.

“But you didn’t…”, you mumbled. Bringing his palms back around, he held your sweaty face in front of him as you still limply clung to his frame. “You could have killed them…but you didn’t…neither of you… You kill…bad people…”

Arms lifted you off the man beneath you as Steve silently walked you to an elevator and climbed in. Your nose nuzzled into his neck as your palm rubbed underneath his button shirt, soothing you till you heard the soft ding and he exited onto another floor.

Taking a quick look around, you realized you were at his office.

“They are doing renovations and adding offices upstairs.”, he explained when you looked at him with confusion. “You said you wanted the experience so we created the illusion of an abandoned building.”

After placing you delicately down on his couch, the lawyer disappeared into his private bathroom before coming back with a wet rag and a first aid kit.

“We’ll give you shower when we get home…or…if you want to go back to your sisters I understand…we just want to make sure you’re ok first before—”

Your palm over his mouth cut him off as you softly smile his way.

Eddie saunters into the office completely naked with a trash bag and as he slams it to the floor you realize it’s full of the projector with the images of you along with the clothes he had been wearing.

“We, um, we have to burn this dress, sweetheart, because it has blood on it but, um, I can take you to the mall and we can buy you another. Pisses me off cause you looked so goddamn beautiful.”

Handing the first aid kit to his friend, both men switch places as the metalhead takes hold of your arms and tries to delicately clean your wrists, his eyes softening with worry when you wince.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I should have let Stevie tie you down. In that headspace sometimes… I tried to not do it too tight…”

“It’s ok.”, you murmur as your gaze shifts to watch the other man unbutton his own clothes and discard the bloody garments into the bag. “How long was I out that you were able to kill someone?”

“About an hour and a half but Eddie tucked you into our car with a pillow and blanket while we did what we had to do. You weren’t in the room or anything.”

“Who was it?”

Steve reaches for a duffle bag that was in the corner and hands his friend a few items including a long shirt that he carefully throws over your head before opening the manilla folder beside him.

“Erica Jones. She’s a case worker Steve overheard talking in the grocery store a few weeks ago. I did some digging and found out that she wasn’t helping any of the kids in her charge, placing them in homes that she never vetted, looked into, or was paid to look the other way. A small boy was incredibly hurt by one of the drunk assholes and all they did was reprimand him. Erica put another kid in his care a week later and received a raise for ‘helping children’.”

Eddie’s chocolate eyes remained glued to your face as you looked over the information.

“That kid could have been me… if my uncle hadn’t taken me in.”

Kneeling in front of you, Steve’s studious irises ran over your skin as his fingers grazed your neck.

“Still feeling ok with the shot? It was honestly just a small sedative. More than anything we just wanted you to peacefully sleep.”

“Yeah, I’m ok. It doesn’t hurt or anything…”

As your eyes fall both men can’t help but exchange a glance.

“What are you thinking, honey?”

“You…you keep telling me this is the real you.”, you answer as your finger gestures at the setting around you. “But with what I just experienced and what I’m hearing now…how you are with me…that’s just a part of you. Not all of you. If you both were really the awful people you seem to believe you are, then you wouldn’t be so careful with me. You wouldn’t care about things like the lives of a bunch of children you probably just saved by removing that woman. This kindness here…”, you continue as you place your palm on Steve’s chest. “…is also part of the real you.”

Arms circle around your shoulders as Eddie pulls you to his own chest and soft hair brushes your legs as Steve’s head falls into your lap.

#################

“Alright, now be aware, Mrs. Dyer can be a bit much but the job is worth it honestly.”, the interviewer relayed as she continued to skim the application she printed out.

“I’m excited to work with her and learn everything I can. She’s a genius in advertising and marketing.”

“Pfft, she’s something alright.”

“Alright Miss—Oh shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were…”, a man interrupts after swinging open the door without knocking.

“No, Fred, not a problem. Is everything good now?”

“Yes ma’am. We aren’t exactly sure what caused the blackout but nothing was stolen and I don’t see any digital footprints so…”

“Alright thank you.”, she beams before turning her attention to you. “Our whole computer system just randomly shut down the other night so we had to bring in some IT guys to do some digging. Alright, let’s continue here. Um, criminal record, none, that’s good.”

Your eyes widen as she breezes past that statement and a small giddy smile paints your lips while you continue to answer her questions. Thirty minutes later, you bounce out the door, surprised when Eddie and Steve are nonchalantly leaning against your car.

“So…how’d it go?”

Jumping into the metalhead’s arms, you cling to his neck as you kiss his lips.

“You did that?”

“Did what?”, he asks sarcastically.

“Did you get the job?”, Steve inquires, his eyebrows raising above his sunglasses.

“I did. Apparently my criminal record didn’t appear on the application so no need to call anyone to verify anything or ignore me.”

“Good. You deserve this job, honey.”

“You won’t get in trouble will you Eddie? They brought in some new IT guys to check everything and—”

“Oh did they? You hear that, Stevie? Time to run for the hills!”, Eddie joked as you lightly hit his chest. “Again, usually we don’t play this close to the chest but…I love you…and you deserve to be happy.”, he mumbles shyly causing you to push up on your toes to kiss his lips again.

“We also got you something, if you want it.”

As soon as Steve pulls a little flat box from his pocket, you giggle as you snatch it from his grasp and excitedly open it as your eyes land on the key nestled within.

“That’s the key to our house…well, your house to…if you want to… I, um, I love you to and I want you as close to us as possible…if you’re comfortable of course.”

Cupping his cheeks in your hands, you bring his mouth to yours and tenderly kiss him as well.

“I won’t be in the way?”

“No, pretty girl. You’re never in the way.”

###################

@dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

33 notes · View notes

oopsiedaisydeer · 20 hours ago

Text

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ ʙʟᴜᴇꜱ

…𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘧𝘪𝘴𝘩!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘣𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘢!𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵

She might not remember being a goldfish, but the sea has always called to her. Like walking past a house you once lived in—familiar, but no longer home.

She’s been drifting, sure. Skipping class—not intentionally, but she always feels so far away. And if she already feels distant, what’s the harm in leaning into it? It’s easier to sit by the shore than to pretend she’s focused.

All this to say, Goldie hates her birthday.

She never really had…friends. She comes from a big family, with plenty of sisters, and she always assumed love was as carefree and humble as that. That you could be loud, quiet, energetic, sleepy, and people would love you in spite of it. Love you because of it.

She carried this belief through childhood, buoyed by the certainty that love was simple, effortless. But life had a way of proving her wrong. Some people didn’t like her much. Some not at all.

She never really understood why. But she learned to accept it.

It wasn’t that they were cruel—no whispered taunts, no pointed glares. But birthdays, where she invited her whole class, still led to an empty afternoon spent with her younger sisters. She loved them, truly. But she wanted someone to love just because she loved them, not because of blood.

And then there was Matt.

Matt, who didn’t seem to mind when she talked too much. Who let her steal his headphones, borrow his notes when she fell asleep in class, and call him at random hours with whatever thought had popped into her head.

She hadn’t meant to avoid him. But the idea of her birthday being just another day, another reminder of all the friendships that never quite stuck—it made her feel pathetic. And she didn’t want him to see that. Didn’t want to know if this, too, was temporary.

So when that day rolled around again, she didn’t pay it much mind. It was just another day, spent staring at the sea. Wandering the shoreline. Avoiding the crowds. Avoiding him.

For almost a week, Matt paid it no mind. He knew Goldie was a little absentminded—figured she had just gotten caught up in another hobby or had extra shifts at the grocery store.

On the sixth day, he admitted it: he missed her.

Missed her smile, her easygoing nature, the way her hair shone when it curled from the seawater. Missed her fingertips brushing his arm when she got really excited, the way she’d puff up her cheeks and blow raspberries, tongue poking out just a smidge.

He wasn’t searching for her. Not really.

But it didn’t stop him from scanning each room he walked into. From searching crowds, searching faces, just for hers.

He thought he caught her once or twice. But it was always just another girl. And each time, the sinking feeling in his gut grew heavier.

He missed her so much, he started swimming even more.

At first, it was just to fill the time. But it wasn’t the same. He found himself treading water, letting the waves move him instead of moving with them. Without her, it felt pointless.

He swam until exhaustion dragged him under, until he was forced to pull himself onto the shore, breathless, aching, heavy. Just a body.

Then one day, he saw her.

Not in school. Not in the grocery store. Not in town at all.

She was on the beach. His beach.

Right as he was about to swim.

Warmth blooms in his chest—pride, relief, something close to joy. But it stops before it reaches his heart, caught on the sharp edge of worry.

Because she looks sad. Unbelievably and impossibly so. And Goldie is the most joyful person he has ever known.

He doesn’t think. Just moves. A lump lodges itself in his throat as he pulls her into his arms, hoping—praying—that his embrace can say what words won’t.

They stay like that for a minute, quiet.

She takes a shaky breath. He feels it, right against his ribs. Something in her stills, as if she’s searching for the right words.

“I—” Goldie sobs out, hesitating.

Matt keeps tracing wide circles on her back, silent, patient.

“Are we friends, Matt?” she finally asks, her voice quiet. “Like… actual, real friends?”

His stomach twists. “Wha— Of course, Goldie! You’re one of my best friends.”

She sniffles, but smiles.

“Did—did someone hurt your feelings? Why are you crying?”

She steps back, rubbing at her nose and eyes.

“…It’s my birthday.”

A beat.

“Happy birthday!” Matt blurts, earnest.

Goldie lets out a soft laugh, watery and tired. “Thanks, Matt.”

He hesitates, shifting on his feet. Then, without really thinking, he reaches for her hand. “Come with me.”

She blinks up at him. “Where?”

“My house.” The words come easily, though he’s never invited her over before. “We can, uh… I don’t know. Watch a movie or something. I’ll even let you pick.”

Goldie stares at him for a moment, like she’s searching his face for a catch.

But there isn’t one.

And maybe that’s why, after a pause, she squeezes his hand. “Okay,” she says softly.

Matt nods, leading her toward the cliffs, toward the path home.

And for the first time in a week, the weight in his chest begins to lift.

And when Matt's mum whips up a dessert and sticks a candle in it, and when Matt's brothers dance around her whilst singing, and when Matt looks at her, Goldie knows already that it's her favourite birthday in a long time.

@bernardsbendystraws creds 4 dividers <3

a/n: posting this from mobile wish me luck. idk how I feel abt the timing of this...but anyway expect some blurbs soon. and a very very much more angsty fic from these two in the next week or so.

taglist: @blushsturns @sturnslutz @snoopychris @sturnshood @sturns-mermaid @shadowthesim237 comment to be added/removed from this au's taglist!

cya next time !

#inez˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿:✧˚#inez ff ˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿:✧˚#ponyo!au𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 #goldfish!reader 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒#cliffbythesea!matt 𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo au #matt sturniolo fluff

31 notes · View notes

alaia777 · 16 hours ago

Note

omg I got so excited when I saw your recent post😚😚 can I request “of course it’s you, confessing to someone at a time like this!” OR “we should just run away” with rin?🙏🏼 tysmmmm🫶🏼

helloooo! i might’ve gone a little crazy with this one—it’s got like 1800 words—but i really hope you like it! :’)

you heard from the cashier at the store that rin was back in town. you lived a couple of houses down from his parents place, but you two were never really close. sure, you were in the same class, but he was always too proud to actually acknowledge any of you.

you did, however, have a little crush on him. okay—a lot of a crush. at school, you always used to greet him loudly with “hey, rin!”, sit next to him whenever you could, conveniently “forget” your pen just so you could borrow his even though you had at least three in your bag, and ask him if he needed help with homework. you’d fake confusion on assignments just to make him explain them to you, cheer way too loudly when he got picked for sports activities—even if you weren’t on his team—and accidentally run into him in the hallways like, whoops, sorry! (it was never an accident).

honestly, looking back, you have no idea how he didn’t just move schools.

but that crush you used to have on him? yeah, that was long gone—at least, that’s what you told yourself. after all, he had chosen to follow his dream and leave this town behind, and you didn’t blame him one bit. if you had the chance, you probably would’ve done the same.

but now, sitting face-to-face with him, divided only by a dinner table, you started to realize maybe that crush wasn’t as gone as you thought.

this whole dinner was your neighbor’s idea. ever since her husband passed, she had been hosting these little gatherings every couple of months, saying it made her feel less alone. your family, along with two others who lived nearby—one of them being the itoshis—would all come together to keep her company. usually, these dinners bored you out of your mind, forcing you to sit through hours of polite small talk about things like gardening, overpriced home repairs, or who was getting promoted at the bank.

but today was different.

rin was here. in front of you. somehow, that one fact alone had completely changed the trajectory of this dinner.

should you get up and make a toast because rin is back? no, that would be ridiculous. you could already picture it: “to rin, the brother of the football prodigy, the underdog, the man who’s clearly still trying to outdo his older brother—let’s hope he finally does it.” you could already feel the awkward silence that would follow and the way he’d probably shoot daggers toward you. no, you weren’t that person anymore. and honestly, it would probably kill any chance of ever getting together with him, not that you were daydreaming about being with him or anything.

you were so lost in your daydream that you didn’t even hear your name being called. it was your sweet neighbor, who had been talking to you the whole evening with that warm smile of hers.

“honey, can you please go upstairs? in the closet next to the bathroom, there are some gifts i prepared for everyone. i just want to show my appreciation for always being here for me, and it’s something i worked really hard on doing.”

“sure, of course,” you said without hesitation, already moving toward the stairs. but as you started to climb, you overheard the conversation at the table.

“rin, be a sweetheart and help her, i’m afraid she might lose track of time in there,” your neighbor said.

you almost tripped on the stairs. rin? you glanced back over your shoulder, not sure whether to be annoyed or grateful. but there he was, with that usual uninterested look on his face, standing up from his chair with the slightest hint of reluctance.

he didn’t even glance your way as he walked past you, but you could feel the faintest hint of warmth creeping up your neck. maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. you weren’t sure whether to feel irritated by his presence or oddly comforted, but you were about to find out.

when you got to the top of the stairs, he was already inside the tiny room, looking around for that pair of gifts. you gasped when you saw the inside of it—it was full of dolls, cool antiquities, and books. it literally felt like you’d walked into an antique store.

“oh my god, look at this doll, it looks just like you!” you said, bolting into the room and past rin, causing the door to close behind you by mistake.

“do you think if i pinch its cheeks, you’ll feel it?” you teased, holding up the doll and inspecting it, completely oblivious to rin’s reaction.

while you were looking around the room and trying not to touch everything that sparked your interest, rin had already found the gifts and was preparing to open the door to leave you in here alone. except the door wouldn’t budge when he tried to open it.

“what did you do?” you heard him ask, his voice edged with irritation.

“what are you talking about? i didn’t do anything.”

“you locked us in here.”

“no, i didn’t.”

you definitely didn’t, but maybe this was the universe giving you a chance to finally confess your feelings? or maybe this was your neighbor’s plan, or maybe your body subconsciously did it. or maybe—while you were thinking of all the possibilities—rin was trying to fix the door, trying the lock, pushing it. you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. it would be so funny to hear him scream for help to the guests downstairs.

“can you actually do something instead of making that weird face and holding that doll? you look creepy,” he muttered, frustration evident in his voice.

“it’s not just a doll,” you said, holding it up with an exaggerated amount of pride, “it’s you. look, it has your hair, your eyes, and it even has that little wrinkle between its eyebrows from frowning.”

you grinned widely, clearly enjoying the situation, but rin’s face was still set in a frown, his impatience growing by the second.

“can you try and smile a little? how did little me even have a crush on such a grumpy person?” you said, absentmindedly stroking the doll’s bangs. it wasn’t until you were met with silence—no snarky remark, no scoff, nothing—that you realized your mistake.

“oh my god, i didn’t mean it like that! like, it’s not like i could ever see myself dating you or anything because you’re so uptight—wait, no, that sounded worse—i mean, there’s nothing wrong with having a little crush! not that i still have one! maybe just a tiny bit, but that’s normal, right? i mean, you see—”

“of course it’s you, confessing to someone at a time like this,” rin deadpanned, looking thoroughly unimpressed—but you swore the tips of his ears were red.

and was this really a bad time? sure, the dolls in the room were a little creepy, the light kept flickering like a horror movie cliché, and, okay, you were technically stuck. but if rin would just get down on one knee and declare his undying love for you, this could actually be kind of romantic—

before you could finish that thought, you heard a soft click, and the door swung open to reveal your mom standing there, her eyes flicking between the two of you with mild suspicion.

“oh, there you are,” she said, raising an eyebrow before turning to rin. “come on, i’ll help you with the gifts.”

without another word, she stepped inside and started gathering the neatly wrapped packages, completely unaware of whatever just happened in that tiny room. rin, on the other hand, shot you a glance—one that very clearly said this conversation is not over.

you need to disappear. yep, that’s it. this is easily top five most embarrassing moments of your life. you need to buy a ticket to another country, get plastic surgery, change your hairstyle, and become an oil rig worker. maybe even change your name—something dramatic.

you’re still cycling through options when you finally make it back downstairs, sliding into your seat at the table without a word. you don’t even realize rin isn’t sitting in front of you anymore—not until he speaks.

“i’m picking up a cake for my mom tomorrow at the local bakery.” his voice is casual, like he’s commenting on the weather. then, just as effortlessly, he adds, “you can come if you want.”

you turn your head so fast it’s a miracle you don’t get whiplash, staring at him speechlessly. he, on the other hand, doesn’t even look at you, eyes fixed straight ahead like this is the most normal thing in the world.

at what, you don’t know. you don’t care. all you know is that your brain is short-circuiting, and you might need to add “fake your own death” to your escape plan.

“oh yeah, sure, totally dude.” why did you say dude? that was so weird. he’s definitely going to leave this table and never talk to you again. say goodbye to the little bakery date. i mean, at least you hope it’s a date, right?

but then, you catch a glimpse of him. his lips twitch, forming the tiniest smile—one that’s gone just as quickly as it appeared. for a second, you’re frozen, unsure of what to make of it.

you sit there for a moment, your mind racing. was that smile real? was he actually okay with this? the uncertainty swirls in your chest, but strangely enough, it doesn’t feel as overwhelming anymore. maybe, just maybe, this is the start of something new.

#you are a romantic at heart ok #kinda grumpy x sunshine #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x you #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff

40 notes · View notes

tumblweeds-omegaverse · 7 months ago

Text

Pros of individuals having scents: you walk into a building and it feels like home instantly. It's not just the place - it's the people. Even if everyone is out, there's that tangible sign that they've been there.

Your support network can go with you anywhere, just let everyone wear your jacket for a minute before you go.

Bringing the smell of home with you by packing a pillow or something soft.

Come back from school or work or a long trip and go face down in your own bed for instant comfort.

The experience of growing to like a scent more because you associate it with a trusted friend, or your favorite coworker, or your family (whatever shape that takes).

The variety of scented everything would be even wider, and custom scent blends would be even more fun to play around with.

If it's due to people having stronger olfactory senses in general: congrats, now you can smell your pets and each one is different and you know it when they've made sure you smell like them before you go out for the day.

The lingering smell of hugs on your shoulders after a fun visit.

Cons of individuals having scent: someone walks past you, and you have to fight not to cover your nose. It isn't gross but it's wrong or too much.

Concerts and stadiums and parties would be 10 times as overwhelming.

You can never escape the awareness of that person in your apartment complex that you dislike.

Smelly gamer cave scent knocking people out at a 10 foot radius.

Discovering that the scent of something you used to feel neutral about, now reminds you of past negative relationships.

Wanting to stick your nose in something because it reminds you of people you like, but oops, you're allergic to the actual item.

Wax melts smell even better but are still forbidden snacks.

#sfw omegaverse #omegaverse #random omegaverse thoughts #not worldbuilding #twovvie chatters #a/b/o headcanons #omegaverse headcanons #yes my cons are based on personal experience #ever had someone walk past you in the store #and their smell just lingers in the air after them like a cloud?#ever accidentally tasted a smell and hot extra grossed out?#oh no skunk spray would be terrible #oh no now i want to read about how scent reception works

114 notes · View notes

aria0fgold · 1 year ago

Text

The more I look back in the past, the more I sound like a grandma ngl. Cuz yeah sure nowadays there are more advanced stuff, but times back then were a lil simpler.

Like, a certain magical moment of my childhood is coming out of school, seeing the many shops right outside that can get crowded during the afternoon. Each shop sells toys, candy, trinkets, and whatever thing a kid might like for something cheap that anyone can buy. It's like magical in a way cuz after such a stressful day at school, I get to pass by the shops, look at the stuff they're selling, and actually get to buy a thing or two without worrying about the price.

#aria rants #as someone thats taught bout the value of money ever since i was young cuz my mom is hella strict with money #i was really frugal and careful with the money i was given. so much so id end up returning that money to my mom after the school year #and that was in the past around like 2009 before inflation inflated too much #like sure its knockoff stuff. with some painted wrong and the ones painted right got some of their paint over the line #and its completely made of plastic #but the model itself looks good enough for a kid who only cares to have a toy of their favourite game #even if it isnt smth so high quality. and also the fact that i get to buy that with money given to me?#it made me feel so good and excited cuz in my mind it was a toy that i got with my own hands #same with when i got my first pet! it was two hamsters (boy and girl) + their wheel and i bought em using my birthday money #when converted to usd all it costed me was 9 dollars. and the lil knockoff toys? convert to usd it'll literally be less than a dollar #now tho? thats impossible #those shops right out my old school? last i walked along that route. half of the shops were gone and that was #around years before covid happened cuz there were new regulations added that made it hard to set up stalls like that #its been years since i last visited a pet store but with how everything's prices had gone up unreasonably high #i wouldnt be surprised if there isnt anything that you can get for 9 dollars there anymore

2 notes · View notes

httpsserene · 8 months ago

Text

𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐚 - 𝐥𝐧. 𝟒 (& 𝐨𝐩. 𝟖𝟏)

summary: you and lando are blessed with a beautiful baby boy. content warning: fluff, humor, slightly suggestive at times, and mainly crack/shitpost energy. reader owns & works in her bakery in monaco. images used are not mine. pairing: lando norris x fem!black!reader (& platonic oscar pastry) genre: smau & written fic combination (it's a longgg one)

author's notes: y'all i'm warning you i took it too far this time. it's long aslllll. but it might be the best thing i've ever offered to f1 tumblr in my entire career.

grab a snack, drink, and tuck yourself into a comfortable position xxx

join the taglist | requests & feedback | table of contents ↻

imessage • preseason 2023

That’s how you find yourself outside of the MTC in the mid-morning two days later. You’re mildly…exhausted, after commandeering the kitchen in Lando’s Silverstone flat to make a sickening amount of banana bread to feed all of McLaren. After tipping your Uber to the MTC double what the ride costs (for allowing you to stuff his car with a hundred pounds of your decadent treat and helping you unload them into the lobby), you’re greeted with warm welcomes and hungry eyes from the staff. Eager to eat, they’re quick to find you a couple of carts to help you move all the banana bread to the communal area. You’re walking backward to make sure none of your sliced loaves fall, smiling with all the workers as they follow you through the building. Setting up shop, you hand out your sliced banana bread, chatting and catching up with everyone as they sing praises over your sweet treat. Word travels around the MTC quickly when it comes to you bringing baked goods and it comes as no surprise to you when you see a perplexed and overwhelmed Oscar Piastri join the line. You’re bursting with excitement and anticipation by the time he’s picking up his slice.

“Thank you for the banana bread,” Oscar expresses softly, his smile boxy.

“Oh, of course,” you dismiss his gratitude lightly, struggling to keep your cuteness aggression at bay, “I’ve been doing this for the factory since Lando joined–and I figured it would be a good welcoming gift for you!”

“Wait–are you Lando’s girlfriend?” Oscar chokes on his bite of bread.

You rush forward to pat his back, ordering for someone to get him a glass of water; you would hate to be responsible for the death of Mclaren’s rookie driver. When his airways are cleared, you exchange proper greetings and you are quick to make sure Lando has been treating him well.

“Honestly, I should’ve known it was you” Oscar chuckles, “Lando cannot stop talking about you. Zak had to establish a rule that only allowed him to mention you two times an hour.”

“That must have been rough for him,” you snort dryly, “the rule was five times an hour last year. Anyways, Oscar–who do you main on Mario Kart? This could make or break our friendship.”

You find yourself enamored with Oscar as the conversation goes on. He stands and keeps you company as you continue to hand out banana bread. It’s mostly you doing the talking; Oscar’s quiet, a man of few words but he listens well. He has a sarcastic sense of humor that is similar to Lando’s yet completely different: Lando’s jokes are loud, Oscar’s are hushed. He’s humble, shy even, flustering when you lightly tease him. You’re well past having Oscar as your friend—you’re convinced that he’s achieved little brother or son status.

“Banana Bread!” Zak shouts as he walks up to the two of you, Lando at his side, “Please tell me this is your homemade version?”

“I would never settle for store-bought banana bread,” you gasp dramatically, “It’s homemade as always, Zak. This time I did my grandmother’s recipe instead of my own.”

The CEO practically jumps with glee and rushes to grab a couple of slices–he’s only had this version of the dessert once, and swore it changed his life. Lando walks to you, pressing a kiss to your temple before nodding at Oscar.

“What do you think, love, “Lando hums to you softly, “Did he pass the test?”

You blink up at him and whisper, “I invited him over for dinner tonight—do you think we can use one of the printers here to print out adoption forms?”

bahrain • 2023

After qualifying, it felt like you and Zak were the only people in the garage who remained optimistic for race day. Lando was less than pleased with placing 11th; he parroted words of positivity and hope for improvement but in the privacy of your hotel room he crumbled. He buried his face in your neck muffling just how low his expectations for this season are. You tried to convince him it was too early in the season—the first race weekend—to make that decision but, he was too in his feelings to see reason.

Oscar was disappointed in himself for placing 18th. When he took off his helmet after returning to the garage, you could see the doubt in his skills lingering through his eyes. You pulled him to sit with you as you continued to wait for the second session to begin and gently reassured him that this wasn’t an accurate representation of his skills; Formula One is a massive change from Formula Two. Oscar nodded at your reassurance but you could tell he was still freshly in shock at his “terrible” performance so your logical advice wasn’t believed.

On race day, however, you found your positivity dip as well. Oscar DNF’d on lap 13 and rage filled the spot that optimism used to inhabit. The Australian was handling his retirement better than you were; he brushed off everybody’s apologies and went straight to reviewing his data and watching Lando’s race—you, however, wanted to snap at any of his mechanics that walked by. It wasn’t like Lando’s race was any better if you could call what he was doing a race. Slow pit stops, six pit stops at that, the fast lap gamble failure, finishing last, and being two laps down from the race leader…Zak took one glance at you and quickly made himself scarce.

You rode back with both of the boys to the hotel and nearly cried for them with how down the mood was. On the walk to your rooms, Oscar attempted to exchange goodbyes with you and Lando before you cut him off.

“Uh-uh, nope,” you shook your head, “I pre-ordered dinner for us. Come eat?”

Oscar stuttered, “O-oh? I don’t want to intrude–”

“Oscar Jack Piastri,” both he and Lando winced at the sound of his full name, “I’m not going to let either one of you go to bed on an empty stomach. You’re going to eat dinner with me and Lan and you’re going to drink several glasses of water so I can make sure you’re properly rehydrated. Understood?”

“I would love to have dinner with you guys,” Oscar blinked at you in fear, “Also, how do you know my middle name?”

You laughed as you unlocked the door, holding it open for both of the boys as you walked in, “I had a wonderful conversation with your mother, of course.”

“When did you meet my mom?!”

australia • 2023

You were on the edge of losing your voice as you screamed and cheered with Nicole Piastri and Adam Norris for both of the McLaren boys and their double points finishes. The two drivers finishing in the midfield felt like the team had figured something out for Oscar’s home race (if you ignored how almost half of the drivers retired their cars). The Piastri’s invited everyone to a local restaurant to celebrate Oscar’s first points in Formula One, but before you and Lando headed out, the two of you nearly lost your minds.

The two of you forced him to pose with his car and take several pictures with it, strongly suggesting that he smiles big and wide for the camera. Fernando and Lewis walked by and burst into laughter, claiming that you and Lando were treating Oscar like a child. So, obviously, the two of you committed to the bit. You guys cooed and called Oscar’s name, clapping and jumping to pretend like he was a toddler whose attention needed to be grabbed to have him look at the camera. The rookie cringed in embarrassment, cheeks burning red as he tried to convince you guys to stop making a fuss over him.

Lando gasped, sickened at Oscar’s words, “Oscar! How could you say such a thing to your mother and me? We only want to celebrate our boy!”

You nodded furiously in agreement, nearly breaking character at the dumbfounded look that rose to the Australian’s face.

“What the fuck,” Oscar blurted out, yet he continued to smile for your camera.

“Oh my god!” You said appalled, “Lando did you teach our son that foul language?! I told you not to curse in front of the baby!”

instagram • bakewithyn • april 6th • melbourne ⚑

liked by, oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren, markwebber, and 413,257 others

bakewithyn: happy birthday oscar 🥳 there’s no birthday gift like scoring your FIRST EVER POINTS in f1 at your HOME race but !!! i’m super happyyy you enjoyed the 🐨 cookies i made for you (lando helped ig 😐) 🤗🤗🤗

tagged oscarpiastri

view comments

📌 yninstagram ps! these are limited edition cookies at my bakery for oscar piastri day!!! first come first serve until sell out! all proceeds go to the australian koala foundation as it was oscar’s personal request 😇

➥ user charitable king shit fr 👑

➥ user FUCK i wish i was rich enough to visit/live in monaco

➥ user don't worry, they're nearly sold out already and the bakery opened three hours ago !!!!

nicolepiastri these were so tasty! i wish i had your baking skills

➥ yninstagram tysm mama piastri !!! i'm blushing

➥ user mama piastri???? im crying

user the koala photo with the bow 😩

➥user what r u talking about?? i only see a picture of oscar with a bow?

➥ user fr i only see oscar 😵‍💫

user "lando helped ig" what did he do? look pretty the entire time you baked LMAO

➥ landonorris actually i was allowed to put the ingredients in the bowls AND preheat the oven too 😤

➥ landonorris and i always look pretty wtf

➥ user omg...yn gave him the toddler tasks 💀💀💀

oscarpiastri the cookies were so good! they nearly tasted better than my first points felt

➥ yninstagram omg high praise from the man himself 🤯

➥ oscarpiastri had to fight my sisters to make sure they didn't only leave me with crumbs

➥ user oh i understand that eldest sibling battle

➥ user my little sisters bite i think they have rabies

➥ user oh what a shame. euthanasia is an option 🤗

miami • 2023

The energy after Miami was rightfully terrible. The car is shit; Lando lost a position from where he qualified to make him P17 and Oscar maintained his P19. It’s hot, and humid, and everyone in the garage is miserable. McLaren is a family. When the boys don’t do good, everybody understands and feels their pain. Nobody likes seeing the boys with frowns on their lips and sadness in their eyes, but it’s becoming a usual appearance during this season. So to turn those frowns upside down, you went on a hunt for some cold treats. You got Lando a frozen lemonade and Oscar an ice cream sandwich—it’s a safe choice, you hadn’t necessarily thought about asking him what kind of ice cream he prefers.

You found Oscar staring at the wall, eyes focused forward but his mind somewhere else. You tapped him gently on the shoulder, offering him a small smile when he looked at you. He tried to offer you a smile of his own but couldn’t manage to hold it for more than a couple seconds. You presented the ice cream sandwich to him and he looked at you in surprise, as if he couldn’t believe you would give it to him.

“F-for,” his voice cracks awkwardly, “For me?”

You hummed, ruffling his hair and taking a seat on the couch next to him, “No, for the King of England. Yes–for you Oscar.”

He thanked you shyly and quickly began to unwrap the packaging, munching away happily. You took a second to text Lando your location and inform him of the frozen lemonade waiting for him, and when you turned to look back at Oscar—the kid was a mess. He wasn’t even a quarter of the way through the dessert sandwich and you’re convinced he managed to spill more of it than he ingested. The ice cream was painted across the lower half of his face and dripping down his hands–you caught a drop of it with a napkin before it fell and stained his shirt.

“Jesus, Oscar!” you scolded him, “I look away for two seconds and you make a mess!”

Oscar shrugged at you, feigning innocence, but you saw the staple redness of embarrassment begin to tint his chubby cheeks. You snapped your fingers in remembrance before you moved to rifle through your purse, Oscar staring at you with wide eyes as he continued to snack away. You exclaimed in delight, showing off a pair of wet wipes you remembered to bring with you. Oscar accepted the offered wipes and you watched carefully to make sure he removed all the smudges of ice cream from his hands and face.

“Hi, lovely girl,” Lando approached you, throwing himself onto the sofa next to you. He gave you a soft kiss on the lips and temple before grabbing his now lemonade slushy and taking a look at Oscar.

“Woah, mate,” Lando teased, “Did you lose in a fight against the ice cream sandwich?”

Oscar rolled his eyes and ignored Lando as he finished cleaning up. Once he was done, you gathered all of the dirty wipes on the table to be thrown away. You and Lando both watched Oscar as he ate the rest of his snack in fear of another mess occurring—and, then you had a bright idea. Leaning forward, you took a dry napkin and tucked it into the collar of his McLaren polo, creating a makeshift bib.

“Lando, remind me to get our son ice cream in a cup from now on!”

twitter • may 14th

instagram • landonorris • may 23rd • monte carlo ⚑

liked by, bakewithyn, charlesleclerc, fernandoalonso, and 502,113 others

landonorris: does it still count as a date night if your boy and his best friend are building legos in the next room🤨

tagged bakewithyn, oscarpiastri, logansargeant

view comments

user "your boy" WTF DOES THAT MEAN ‼️‼️‼️

user they're building legos before the race weekend starts 🤧

user has oscar been staying with lando since last week?

➥ user i thought he was just sleeping over for one night 🧐

adamnorris does this make me a grandfather?

➥ user what the hell is happening

➥ landonorris um? surprise haha 😀

bakewithyn it's a great date night! it's comforting knowing ozzy's in the next room over

➥ bakewithyn i have separation anxiety :)

➥ landonorris me too omg this was my best idea ever

➥ user this is like a reverse 13th reason- it's like my 1st reason i'm glad to be alive

➥ user ozzy 🫠

landonorris logan and osc just went silent. chat, should i be worried?

➥ user i'll bet my life savings that one of them has a lego shoved up their nose 😬

➥ user when kids go quiet it's never good !!!!

qatar • 2023

You cried an embarrassing amount of times this weekend. Your son won his first sprint race in his Formula One career, and his father—your boyfriend—was up there on the podium with him to celebrate. It seems like you have to make another special dessert for your bakery to celebrate both of your boys, but you can worry about brainstorming ideas when you stop crying into Andrea Stella’s shoulder in the middle of the pit lane. You’re sure that your face will be posted all over Twitter in a couple of hours.

A part of you wished that Lando had won the sprint race, just as he probably wanted the same thing. But, as both of you made eye contact with each other over Oscar’s head, the Australian rambling endlessly as he hugged his trophy on your hotel room floor, both of you knew that there was no better outcome this weekend than Oscar getting a taste of victory. Lando’s win will come in due time. A P2, P3 finish on Sunday was just the proof everyone needed of McLaren’s improvement and the threat they may pose to Red Bull next year.

são paulo • 2023

You had the Grand Prix playing on your phone as you did some prep work for the bakery. The race ended and you couldn’t help but feel happy, yet relieved for the race to be over for different reasons. Lando had a wonderful drive today, and Oscar had the opposite; you were just glad it wasn’t a DNF for him.

You had only just begun wiping down the counters when the sound of the post-race show is interrupted by the ringtone you have set for Oscar. You paused quickly, scooping your phone up to answer.

“Hi, Ozzy,” you cooed gently, “How are you feeling? Sorry about your race buddy, that was unfortunate.”

“It happens, I guess. I feel like shit, mostly. Like I let the team down.”

“No way, Oscar! You’re not letting anybody down. Your race result today wasn’t the result of your skills, it was the result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a racing incident. If anybody tells you differently, let me know. I’ll rip their vocal cords out.”

Oscar’s laugh crackled through the receiver. “Yes, mum. I’ll let you know. I really want some of your chocolate chip cookies, they’re the perfect bad race remedy.”

“Well, I’m flying out in a few hours to meet you guys in Brazil so I can celebrate Lando’s—sorry, excuse me—your father’s birthday with him. I think there may be some time for me in my schedule to make some cookies with you.”

“Really? We should make some for Lando too! Wait, before you leave, I left his birthday gift—”

“—In our apartment, I remember! I already packed it in my luggage, I wouldn’t forget.”

“You’re the best, seriously.”

“Mhm, I know. Also, we should share some of these cookies with Charles too, his radio message made me cry.”

“Okay, he can have one cookie.”

“Oscar Jack,” you said dryly.

“Yes, sharing is caring or whatever. He can have like...two.”

instagram • bakewithyn • november 13th • las vegas ⚑

liked by, mclaren, landonorris, f1, oscarpiastri and 353,764 others

bakewithyn: happy birthday to lando norris. he's a pretty cool guy, a great dad, and the perfect boyfriend. love you lots, baby, and i'll love you forever xxx

tagged landonorris

view comments

user wait is this a pregnancy announcement 😨

user this is giving engagement reveal

charlesleclerc bro. if i didn't know you guys i would think your caption was serious 😣

➥ bakewithyn get pranked LOL XD

➥ user oh i feel like i just got catfished

➥ user wait so lando didn't propose nor did he put a baby in her 😒

➥ user I WANTED A BABY NORRIS

➥ user oscar exists? he's literally their child

oscarpiastri no fr i thought i was about to learn i had a sibling otw from this post

➥ bakewithyn ozzy we would've told you???

➥ landonorris you literally bought the card for me

➥ oscarpiastri a boy can hope for a younger sibling can he not :(

➥ bakewithyn so close 😚 no you can't! hope that helps xo

➥ landonorris sorry osc, it's your mum's decision 🤷‍♂️

➥ user does this mean lando wants an actual kid

mclaren admin was terrified ngl 😅

➥ mclaren i thought you really posted an engagement and pregnancy reveal without letting me know 😭

➥ landonorris sorry admin, i'll keep you in the loop in the future

➥ user landoyn engagement soon??????

twitter • november 18th • las vegas ⚑

twitter • preseason 2024

miami • 2024

Lando had you pinned to the wall in his driver's room, with his hands tangled in your curls and his mouth devouring yours. Your moans are muffled into his lips as you grind against his thigh. You tried to multitask, struggling to pull his driver’s suit down. Lando lifted you slightly, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist and neither of you cared to pull away at the sound of your foot hitting his P1 trophy and knocking it over. One of his hands fell from your hair to grasp at the smooth brown skin of your neck, his palm acting as a warm weighted choker on your throat and you broke away from the kiss to moan.

“Fuck, Lando—get naked,” you whined desperately, “we don’t have much time for you to tease me right now!”

Lando laughed as he moved to press kisses along your jawline and behind your ear. You felt his lips part on your skin, his breath ghosting over you causing goosebumps to rise, but it’s not his voice you hear.

“Lando, they need us for pictures—OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK,” yelped Oscar, the sound of his hand smacking over his eyes reverberating around the room.

You shrieked in surprise, pushing your boyfriend away from you as you speedily readjusted your clothes. Lando positioned himself in front of you, his back facing you allowing you a little more privacy as he speedily fixed his suit around his waist.

“Learn how to knock, kid,” Lando huffed, no shame found in his words, “You interrupted my winning celebration.”

You screamed in dismay, slapping the back of Lando’s head and Oscar began to stumble out of the room, bumping into the doorframe as he still covered his eyes.

“Yeah, knock in the future, I understand,” Oscar sounds like he’s about to cry, “I feel like I just saw my mum and dad having sex!”

instagram • bakewithyn • may 12th • mama's house ⚑

liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, and 551,012 others

bakewithyn: LOOK AT MY SON 🥺🥺 PRIDE IS NOT THE WORD IM LOOKING FOR 🗣️🗣️🔊🔊 (happy mother's day to all the beautiful mamas x)

tagged oscarpiastri

view comments

oscarpiastri did dad get you anything 🙃

➥ user 👀👀👀

➥ landonorris well i would've if SOMEBODY told me we were celebrating this year 🤬🤬🤬🤬

➥ oscarpiastri i didn't know i *had* to tell you

➥ user wowwwww lando

➥ user shameful honestly 😕

markwebber happy milf day

➥ markwebber *mother's day sorry typo

➥ bakewithyn what the fuck ☠️☠️☠️

➥ user that was not a typo mark

➥ user sir u are not slick LMAO

➥ bakewithyn i mean...oscar wouldn't mind a step dad, his fatther didn't get me anything today :(

➥ landonorris AYO BABY PLEASE 🧎‍♂️

oscarpiastri you know what would be an even better mother's day gift? getting a puppy 🤭

➥ bakewithyn we are not getting a puppy ozzy.

➥ landonorris should've clued me in osc i might've convinced her for you

➥ oscarpiastri :[

monaco • 2024

You’re about to crash THE FUCK out. At first, it was a little half-joke. Oscar’s home race in Australia, his 1/16th home race in China, and his 3/16th home race in Italy. You originally thought his tweet about “searching for his Monegasque roots” was cute, but you didn’t expect Charles Marc Herve Perceval (Demon Spawn) Leclerc to step into your playing field.

Who the hell does he think he is? Offering to adopt your son? And, Oscar is going along with it? And, the Miami Grand Prix account making a “Certificate of Adoption?” You started to like Miami after Lando won there; and now they’ve betrayed you. Every fan jumped on the bandwagon, thinking that this was the most adorable thing to happen. Like Oscar hasn’t been your child the minute he stepped foot into the MTC in Silverstone. Like he didn’t give you a Mother’s Day present? The Monegasques have some nerve; you were close with Charles and Alex but, now they’ve encroached on your and Lando’s territory. You’re committing several murders today.

You laughed hysterically when Oscar joined Lando and you for lunch, mentioning that Charles and Alex invited him to eat with the rest of the Leclercs at family dinner after qualifying. You agreed to let him but not without making sure Charles and Alex are qualified for the job. Lando also cornered you in the kitchen and persuaded you to allow Oscar to go; swaying you with the idea of a real date night. You never realized just how much time you guys spend with your son. When’s the last time you guys had a break from being “mum and dad?" It was an appealing offer, but you were serious about clarifying expectations to the thieving couple.

twitter • may 25th • monaco

instagram • bakewithyn • may 25th • date night ⚑

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, nicolepiastri and 236,978 others

bakewithyn: a little night off from parenting was needed x

tagged landonorris

view comments

user okay mamiiiii

user all parents deserve to relax !!!

oscarpiastri do you even miss me ☹️

➥ user damn he goin through it

➥ charlesleclerc i literally just got him to smile and now he's crying again 😒

➥ landonorris your mum and i love you lots osc

➥ oscarpiastri :]

alexandrasaintmleux take full advantage of having no children in the house 😈😈😈

➥ charlesleclerc leo will keep him distracted for as longggg as possible 😏

➥ user lando only needs about three minutes 🥱

➥ user wow that's a really long time fr

oscarpiastri mama y papa

➥ user mama y papa

instagram • landonorris • june 16th • daddy's home ⚑

liked by oscarpiastri, angryginge, bakewithyn and 436,812 others

landonorris: father's day done right. my child and his mother made a cake for me, family photo slide two, and my son slide three. what more can a man want.

tagged bakewithyn and oscarpiastri

view comments

user this man never misses a chance to call himself daddy

user too fucking funny 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

bakewithyn happy father's day, daddy xxx

➥ user OHMYGOD 😖🤢🤮

➥ user on my internet⁉️⁉️⁉️

➥ landonorris even happier now x

user this new wave of parents concerns me...

oscarpiastri the cake was good wasn't it???

➥ landonorris it was perfect, seriously

➥ oscarpiastri i know you both said there's no way we'd get a puppy but hear me out i've thought of something better

➥ oscarpiastri working on giving me a younger sibling :]

➥ user YES BABY NORRIS ‼️‼️‼️

➥ landonorris @/bakewithyn ?

➥ bakewithyn ask me again in a couple of years

#f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 smau #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x black!reader #oscar piastri x black!reader #f1 x black!reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff #oscar piastri fanfic #charles leclerc fic #oscar piastri fluff #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: ln.#♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: op.#serene's chapters.#serene’s fave.

4K notes · View notes

suguann · 9 months ago

Text

tags. fem!reader, boss/employee relationship, stupidly domestic, little wife kink in there somewhere, nanny reader, single dad gojo, breeding kink [18+ only]

You sometimes find yourself wistfully imagining having a family of your own—a soft and sweet little bundle to cuddle and someone strong and capable (competent) at your side. But you can’t think of the last time you’ve been on a date where that person had the same interest in something more serious than casually sleeping around.

Nannying seemed like the natural conclusion, especially when you’re still settling in a new city and barely scraping by for rent and student loans for a degree you don’t use.

You pick up a few jobs just to get a feel for it: parents going away for a honeymoon, a last-minute call-in, a weekend business trip. Then a friend of a friend says she makes enough to afford one of those picturesque apartments that overlook tall high-rises and iridescent lights, the very ones you’ve dog-eared in real-estate magazines.

All it takes are a few phone calls and an interview until you’re packing up your apartment and taking the freeway outside of the city to somewhere remote and expensive, your car looking almost out of place parked beside the shiny new one in the long driveway.

You rap on the front door before you lose your nerve, and a few moments later, it opens, and you’re unsure who looks more out of place: this man with a smile too big, dressed for work, immaculate suit dampened by the baby rag slung over his shoulder and what looks like drool on his crisp collar, or you in your scuffed shoes and second-hand store clothes, standing in front of the nicest house you’ve ever seen.

“The nanny?”

“Yes,” you mutter, licking your lips. “That’s me.”

“Good, Ren just woke up from his nap,” he says, opening the door a little wider with a creak. The darkness behind him is almost comforting.

You take a deep breath and pass over the threshold into his home.

The entire time, his hand stays on the small of your back to steer you toward the nursery, and a shiver threatens up the length of your spine.

Three months. That’s how long it takes before your employer poses a problem.

It’s not that he’s a terrible boss; in fact, he’s quite the opposite. He lets you take over one of the many spare rooms in his massive house, pays you double the regular rate, and gives you time off when you ask for it.

It also helps that Ren is cute, only a year old, and still so sweet and tiny.

Perfect.

The problem lies in that you know what he sounds like first thing in the morning, that he knows how you like your coffee, that he helps you fold laundry in the living room while the baby naps, how you catch him staring anytime you hold his son—his expression shuttered, a foreign thing that you can’t read. It’s all so terribly domestic.

Terrible in that you think it’s a horrible idea to develop a crush on your boss, that you can’t help but get flustered anytime he so much as looks your way, even if it’s fleeting. How a sleepy smile before he retires to his room for the night can turn your thoughts into a scattered, ill-defined mess of what they used to be until all that’s left are words like spun sugar melting on your tongue.

But also, it’s not normal, at least not from your experience.

You were lucky in the past if your employer even wanted to know about their kid’s day. Barely saying hello once they walk through the front door before sending money to your bank account.

Satoru—because that’s what he asked you to call him one afternoon while you were in the middle of feeding Ren mashed banana, a lazy smile curling the edges of his lips after you say it for the first time—wants to know everything: what Ren ate, if he laughed, how your day was, if you finally got your hands on that book you’ve been meaning to buy.

“You don’t have to ask about my day,” you tell him shyly, accepting the glass of wine he proffers you after spending the past hour trying to put a teething baby to bed. “To make me feel better, that is.”

“Would it be so bad if I said I want to? You live here, too.”

You try to separate the two: that he cares as your employer and not for any other reason, and how you sometimes catch the soft look in his eye whenever he looks at you could make you believe otherwise.

Cool fingers cup your chin gently, thumb caressing the top of your cheek, now close enough that you catch a few of the warm notes of his cologne, a move that’s probably very inappropriate between a boss and an employee.

“I never say anything I don’t mean.”

You swallow, nodding, slightly shaky, breath caught in your chest. “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He retreats to his office before witnessing how those two words knock the wind out of you.

He starts saying things like our shopping list, our car—because he gave you the keys to the SUV parked beside his car and hasn’t touched it since; for you and the baby, he said, plus it’s terrible on gas when I drive it to work—our house, our baby. You don’t think he means to do it; it's more of an easy slip in conversation.

But then, one morning, he’s rushing around the kitchen, hair still damp and smelling like his shampoo, as he grabs his coffee and briefcase from the counter, kissing Ren’s forehead first…and then yours.

You’re half convinced that you imagined it—that his lips hadn’t stayed there for a second longer than necessary—until he straightens his tie and heads out for the day with a ‘be good’ tossed over his shoulder, and you’re left wondering if he meant to say that to you or Ren.

It sets off a chain reaction of thoughts whirling away in your head, leaves you wanting and wondering—only ever allowing yourself to fantasize a little when the house is quiet and dark, the baby monitor humming on your nightstand, and images of your boss flit behind closed eyelids as you fit your hand underneath your soft sleep shorts.

In the morning, you worry he can tell what you did, his smile almost too sharp, too something—more teasing than what you’re used to—his hand resting on your lower back as he leans down to kiss Ren’s chubby cheek while you make breakfast.

“I have a meeting this afternoon, so I’ll be late. Want me to pick up some food on the way home?”

No, you think, there’s no way he knows.

You spend most of the morning cleaning and folding the array of graphic onesies Satoru has a penchant for dressing Ren in, and the later half walking around the pool because it’s warm and Ren enjoys splashing around in the water. It’s enough to tucker him out for bed early, unable to keep his eyes open while eating a plate of mashed potatoes.

It’s also the first time in weeks that you have the night to yourself, no baby keeping you busy, no Satoru to—well.

After a long shower, you step out of the bathroom, moving into the hallway. And there are many reasons why you felt confident walking the few steps it took to reach your bedroom. Most revolve around what Satoru told you that morning, so you don’t expect him to be standing there, shirtsleeves rolled up, piercing gaze sliding down the length of you wrapped in a towel and little else.

“I brought home those drunken noodles you like,” he says when his eyes focus back on your face, his whole expression softening into a smile.

A beat. “Thank you,” you whisper, unable to look away.

He tucks the wet strands of hair clinging to your cheek behind your ear. “Why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll join you downstairs?”

The noise in your brain goes static.

You’re unsure what causes it, but everything changes when he comes home early one afternoon and finds you and the baby napping in the nursery. He has this soft look on his face and something else you can’t decipher with his piercing blue eyes settled firmly on you.

Ren coos softly into your shoulder.

When Satoru picks him up and settles him in the crib, then walks you to your room—here, let me help you—and when he hovers in your doorway, you let him in without question.

He doesn’t waste any time peeling off your clothes, eager to have you naked and splayed out underneath him. You cum on his tongue more times than you can count until you’re silently begging him to fuck you.

He laughs, large hands spread over your tummy.

“Use your words, baby. I’m not a mind reader.”

You feel like you’re someone else watching you from somewhere else, another body rocking against the length of your boss’s cock, back arching every time you manage to find the friction you need. He’s hard against your back, thick in a way that makes you wonder if he did enough to stretch you out.

“I-I want—”

All other thoughts are obliterated by the stretch and press of him against your cunt.

“Think I’m going to keep you,” he rasps, lips dragging over your throat. “Keep this drippy little cunt spread open on my desk whenever I want while the baby naps. Would you like that? For me to fuck you full until you give me a baby.”

You clench, nerves shot.

“Gonna get all round with my baby, stay here forever,” he mumbles when he draws away, and you can’t tell if the words are meant for you to hear or slip out without him realizing. “Fuck—breed my little wife until it takes—”

Your eyes roll up, lost in the little promises he paints across your skin, body shivering over and over until you’re sobbing from it until he has to clamp a hand down over your mouth—shh, you’re going to wake the baby—going limp when he finally cums, pressing as deep as your body will allow, as if he can somehow imprint himself there.

Wonders if maybe he’s been building up to this moment all along.

It’s so easy to lay there after, blissed out while he litters kisses across your face and collarbones, letting him lift your hips up to slide a pillow underneath, even though the position is awkward when he tries to cuddle you afterward.

His fingers draw shapes on your stomach, giving you a wistful look, like he can’t believe he’s laying here with his cum still dripping between your thighs—no matter how many times he scoops it up and pushes it back inside you. “Do you think it’ll take?”

And you don’t have the heart to tell him about the little foil packet of pills tucked away in your nightstand.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #.things i write

5K notes · View notes

itsoutrageouss · 2 months ago

Text

Third follow up on the dynamic between you and Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley after he sees you cry for the first time. He’s getting so fucking obsessed with you and this next mission does absolutely nothing to help that:

It was a classic, but one you’d never experienced yourself before now; a mission where you had to gain intel from someone at a high class event. Meaning you had to get dolled up with your mission partner. Guess who?

It had been forever since you’d worn a dress; this way or work didn’t give much opportunity for it. It had been so long that you only had one in your closet- but it was everything to you- a tiny part of the persons you’d had to store away when becoming part of a military task force. Hidden away in a box on the top of your closet at your barracks.

You smoothed it out, admiring it on its own for a moment before slipping it over you, tying the back so it dipped at your waist, giving you a sense of security at the slight pressure. Your hands ran over the dark green fabric that matched the emeralds in your ears and down along your cleavage, looking like crystal droplets over the taught skin of your collarbones.

Your hair had been neatly curled- cheeks rosy, eyelids shimmering and lips a muted mauve. It was very different from the tactical gear most operations called for and it felt naked to only have the gun at your inner thigh and the smallest piece that was draped over by your hair.

Your heart pounded like a war drum as you stepped into the entrance of the base, at the double doors that led to the parking lot.

You knew it would draw attention- you’d never looked anything like this since you joined the task force and you felt so self conscious that your knees nearly buckled, feet unsteady in the heels that hugged them. But you knew you looked good- repeated it to yourself because half of this was confidence.

And so did he. Simon was adjusting the cuffs of his suit with a grunt, annoyed at the feel of the tight button up trapped under the black habit jacket that bulged over his muscles. But when he turned around his hand fell away from his cuffs mindlessly, going lax at his sides. He hadn’t known the way his heart stuttered before. He hadn’t known what to expect but you- you were a sight for sore eyes.

It didn’t help him at all with how he struggled to decipher his feelings for you. After seeing you so vulnerable and human, crying on that concrete floor he thought that was as far as he could ever go. Then you had bandaged his knuckles, and let him cuddle you in the irrevocable silence on that couch. But this was another stepping stone: you in that dress.

He could see a confidence in you that he’d either never noticed or that was brought forth by the way you looked tonight. Which would be very valid in his opinion because he’d been looking at you without saying anything for a solid minute now.

You frowned, fidgeting with the rings on your fingers because you couldn’t read his expression at all.

“You should wear a suit more often,” you said, roving shamelessly over his hunky figure, looking even taller with the dark suit on, his thick thighs coming to their right. You wanted to kiss his knuckles again.

Kiss a lot of him, actually.

“Fuckin’ annoying” he grumbled and rolled his shoulders in the suit, the jacket creaking with the motion. It was his way of accepting the compliment without, and you both knew it. He wanted to compliment you too, but there was so much he wanted to say that absolutely nothing came out. And when he saw the shameless hunger in your eyes as you trailed the movements of his hands, he definitely couldn’t speak. Had you always looked at him like that? Or did these past weeks open gates for you too?

You gulped down the disappointment when he didn’t say anything after a long beat of opportunity, masking your expression quickly as your spine straightened, hands smoothing down the fabric along your hips. “The car is waiting” you say, silence unbearable as your heels click on the linoleum, walking into the moonlight lid parking lot.

You both go over the mission details in the car, but his eyes kept finding their way to your silly curls bouncing around your face, the light in the car shining off of your lips. He gritted his teeth.

“Where’s your gun?” He asked because he would never forget that the mission was so much more dangerous like this- despite the rest of the task force being on standby, you could both get hurt way easier in this attire- especially you. He could wear a bulletproof vest under his button up. You could not- and ghost had yelled at you to find something else to wear but you refused. This was your lucky dress.

Then you unconsciously did the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his goddamn life as you spread your thighs slightly in your seat, fingers grazing and pulling aside the satin material of the slit in your dress to reveal your bare thigh, gun strapped to the plush of your inner skin. He might’ve died, and you had no clue, simply pulling the dress back in place and looking over the blueprints one more time.

The air prickled at your skin and you tugged the shawl closer around your arms when his large hand slipped over the satin, landing on the bare skin on the small of your back. The contact was electric and you both stiffened, looking up at the adorned building ahead, checking your earpieces before walking up the shiny stairs.

Right before the staff opened the golden double doors for you, giving out your fake names, he leans down to the shell of your ear.

“You’re the most gorgeous fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen, love, I can’t focus.” He managed to grumble out just before nudging your lower back gently to start walking. His eyes immediately honed in on the people and the layout. But you felt frozen in place, eyes widening impossibly much at his singular, lethal sentence.

That he’d ever seen? Of everything in the entire world he’d ever seen? It rung around your skull, zapping all the way to your toes that curled inside the heels, a unusually giddy feeling wracking up and down your spine, making your hips sway a little more as you followed his guiding hand.

He could feel your warm skin under his palm, the way your muscles moved with every sway, and immense satisfaction coursed through him when he noticed the subtle change his compliment had caused.

Maybe tonight he would pretend- for the mission of course- that you really were his. Really give it his all- make up a story of how you met. Tell people he’s gonna propose. No no no what the fuck? He’s taking it way too far. The mission came first. The thrill of showing you off on his arm came second.

That’s what he said, until a woman commented on how lucky he was, both his and her eyes watching you as you stood next to one of your targets for intel, sipping a champagne glass and twirling your hair.

“I am. I really am.” He said, not noticing the woman had already left.

series masterlist

2K notes · View notes

swiftdove · 4 months ago

Text

collateral damage

pairing: rio vidal x agatha harkness x fem!reader

summary: after being stranded by your ex-lovers, you've found a new life, hoping to finally move on. unfortunately, fate just doesn't seem to be on your side.

content: angst, allusions to smut, sapphic yearning

a/n: i'm obsessed to say the least

You should've known.

From the moment Agatha stepped foot into your pitiful excuse of a store, you should've slammed the door shut. For years, you'd been reeling from the wounds inflicted by your so-called lover. If you could even call her that. Never, did she once, refer to you as anything other than her 'pet'.

You supposed the name was fitting. You were practically a dog, groveling at the ground she walked on. Hoping, begging, praying, dying that she wouldn't leave.

Then, without a trace, she vanished from your life, set on her next twisted mission. You had simply been a means to an end, a brief footnote in her life.

It didn't help that the only other person you cared about, Rio, had followed in Agatha's absence. They'd left you alone, desperately trying to piece together the shattered remains of what you once had.

Sometimes, you wondered. You wondered if they ever felt guilty about what they did, and if they ever thought of you from time to time. Then, you scolded yourself for even daring to believe that the Agatha Harkness and Rio Vidal would have the time of day to care about you. You had drowned in that pit of self-deprecation for years, slowly re-learning how to live without them.

And just as you thought you were finally free, the wretched witch came back, pulling you back under her spell. If it were anyone else, you would have said 'no'. But it wasn't just 'anyone else'. It was Agatha. You weren't sure where this sick, borderline-obsessive love for her came from. You had left it to depreciate in the back of your mind, where you would have preferred for it to have stayed.

Unfortunately, Agatha had had other plans.

It was stupid. You hated yourself for it. You hated that tiny spark that you felt when she said your name, that familiar warmth in your chest when she came close. You would've given anything to stop the feeling.

If only Agatha knew. Throughout her long, melodramatic speech about the rewards of The Road, all you could do was stare at her in disbelief. The promise of being with her, even if it were for a short while, was enough to have convinced you. If you had known, back then, that Rio would have been joining you, you would have eagerly accepted the offer without hesitating.

But then again, time had cast a golden glow over your past relationships. You hadn't remembered how unwanted you had felt in their presence, how much they hadn't cared about you.

Sat around the warmth heat of the fireplace, your gaze lay wistfully on the two women. Situated across from them, you felt more distant to them than you had when you were alone.

"I have a scar," Rio suddenly spoke, glancing over at the coven.

"No, you don't," Agatha shot back, almost instantly.

Your ears perked, waiting for Rio's next words.

"Yes, I do," Rio replied, glancing over at Agatha, her solemn gaze worth a thousand unspoken words. It was their dynamic, their silent conversations, that left you feeling like a second-choice. The feeling settled into the pit of your stomach, which you desperately tried to keep from coming back up.

"A long time ago, I loved someone." Rio shot another pointed look at Agatha. "And I had to do something that I did not wanna do, even though it was my job. And it hurt them. She is my scar."

If you had the choice to go deaf right there and then, you would have chosen it immediately. Although, you knew it wouldn't stop the sharp pain you felt in your heart. Seeing them together was enough.

"I have to go stretch my legs," Agatha said, walking away.

Just like she used to walk away from every problem in her life. Like she did with you.

You couldn't bear it. One more second in their presence, and you were sure you would have thrown up.

"Same," you replied quietly, walking in the opposition direction to your past lover.

It was only until the warmth of the fire was long gone, that you felt the tears sliding down your cheeks.

Breaking down into sobs, you brought your knees to your chest, burying your head inside. You shouldn't have come. You should have said no.

It seemed as though fate was constantly punishing you, tugging at your heartstrings until they threatened to break. You hated that a part of you wanted to hurt them. Just enough, so that you too would have left a scar. But you knew you couldn't do it. You wouldn't. Not after they shared, so intimately, their past with you, letting you devour every fiber of their being.

You knew why they were the way that they were. That's why it hurt so much to watch them, again and again, fall victim to their pasts. That's why you could never leave, knowing how much pain they had endured, knowing that their wounds ran too deep to ever heal.

Sympathy was a knife, stabbed straight into your back when they left you to dry.

"You good?"

You'd been so deep in your emotions, you hadn't noticed the dark shadow looming over you. Swiveling around, you were met with a pair of manic brown eyes.

"Rio," you exhaled, quickly wiping away your tears. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Rio shook her head softly, pushing her tongue against her right cheek. Her fingers trailed up your leg, sending shivers down your spine.

"Come on, now," she lulled. "You never were much of a good liar."

"Maybe I've changed," you replied sharply, pulling away from her touch.

Rio's grip tightened, her fingernails digging into your thigh. "Maybe you have," she replied dismissively. "Is that why you never called?"

You scoffed, turning away from her piercing stare. "No. We're not doing this - this wasn't my fault. You and Agatha left without saying a word to me. Call me crazy for assuming you were done with me."

"Now there's the Y/N I know," Rio bit back. "Always jumping to conclusions."

You rolled your eyes at her. "What does it matter anyways? You seem perfectly fine without me. I didn't seem to have left a scar."

"Is that what this is about?" Rio questioned, a taunting grin tugging at her lips.

You refused to dignify her question with an answer.

"Aww, was our little baby feeling left out?"

A mocking, cruel voice rang out in the air, one that you knew all too well.

"Fuck off, Agatha," you snapped. You were hardly in the mood to deal with her heartless jests tonight.

"Someone's forgotten their manners," Agatha remarked, her voice laced with venom.

Rio chuckled, her grip still deathly tight on your thighs. You could feel the blood seeping out of your skin, onto her fingers.

"I wish I could have forgotten you instead," you retorted, unsure where this newfound attitude was coming from.

"Now, now. Don't get too cocky," Rio warned, although the grin on her face said something entirely different.

You bit back a scoff. "What's this, anyways? Last time I checked, you both hated each other."

The Green Witch shrugged. "We both share a common interest."

Refusing to take anymore of this, you made a move away from them, eager to escape Rio's death grip. Unfortunately, the two witches were unwilling to let you get away so easily.

"Don't," Agatha cautioned, her voice alone enough to stop you in your tracks.

"What do you want?" you snapped, finally turning towards her.

Your eyes narrowed as Agatha's smile turned into something sinister.

"You," she replied definitively.

You laughed sarcastically, barely believing what was happening right now. "Are you fucking kidding me? You left me. You can't - I - don't you think we're too far gone now? I mean, you left me wondering where the hell you -"

"We didn't want to leave," Rio interjected.

"Then why did you?"

"We cared too much about you to stay," Rio explained, gently interlocking your fingers with hers. "It would've only have hurt you."

"Well, you hurt me either way," you replied bitterly, flinching at the coldness of the witch's fingers.

Rio sighed. "I know. I know we did."

Exasperated, Agatha tilted your head up with her fingers, forcing you to look her in the eyes. "Pet, we're sorry."

"Well, sorry doesn't cut it anymore. Not in my books," you snapped, wrenching yourself out of their grasps. "And don't call me that. I'm not your pet."

Without looking back, you walked back towards the fireplace. Unbeknownst to you, the two witches you left behind were hardly satisfied with your answer.

"She's forgotten who she belongs to," Rio murmured, staring into the back of your head.

Agatha tightened her jaw, shaking her head. Her eyes met Rio's, a knowing smirk playing on their lips.

"It looks like we'll have to teach her a lesson then, hm?"

#agathario #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agathario x reader #rio vidal #agatha all along #rio vidal x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader #dark!agatha harkness #dark!agatha harkness x reader #dark!rio vidal #dark!rio vidal x reader #agatha harkness x you #rio vidal x you

2K notes · View notes

whytheylosttheirminds · 5 months ago

Text

Juno - JJ Maybank

(one-shot, boyfriend!jj x reader, 4.1k words)

summary: You've built a beautiful little life with JJ, but his wild past and your trust issues keep you guarded. When a storm hits the island, you gain the perspective you need to take the next step.

content: fluff/smut, mentions of drinking and smoking. 18+ minors do not interact

When you met JJ, he was wild. Smoking, drinking, surfing - it was all he knew. You were new to the island and attending your first party at the Boneyard when he saw you standing by the keg, laughing with some friends, and his world turned upside down.

From that day on, he asked you out every time he saw you, relentlessly flirting with you. But you had heard about his reputation before your boxes were even unpacked, and you were far too cautious of a person to jump into something with someone like him quickly.

“You don’t give up, do you, Maybank?” You asked him about a year in, after he begged you to leave a party with him for the hundredth time.

“Usually I do, actually,” he leaned in so you could feel his warm breath against your lips, your heart rate spiking. “Just never wanted anything this bad.”

After that night, he had you. When you were a little older and out of school, and after months of begging from JJ, you moved in with him. You rented a little house on The Cut together, it wasn’t anything impressive, falling apart inside and outside, but with you waitressing and him working hourly for a landscaping service, it was all you could afford.

You had never been so anxious about anything as you were to move in with JJ. Your own parents were a disaster, your dad leaving before you could walk, and you grew up watching your mother’s revolving door of deadbeat men disappoint her over and over. Even though you knew JJ was infinitely better than even the best of those men, you had trust issues you couldn’t shake. You didn’t tell JJ about your concerns, not wanting him to take them personally, but he noticed the way you’d toss and turn in your shared bed, twisting your hair in your fingers with worry.

He swore to himself he’d never let you down the way those other men did. He worked his way up at the landscaping business until he was a manager. Eventually, after giving up partying so you could both pick up a few extra shifts, you had made enough combined to put a deposit down and buy the house you shared. You both picked up second jobs at the Island Club, you’d bartend while he parked cars. When you got home each night, you’d pool your tips, counting them before adding them to the glass jar labeled “Dream House.” On the rare occasion you both had a day off, you’d sit in a lawn chair and keep him company while he fixed the roof, or lay on the bathroom floor while he installed the big claw-foot tub you’d wanted since you were a little girl. Bit by bit, he turned what you loving called The Shitshack into your Dream House.

Even though you were both exhausted at the end of every day, you always made time for each other. You’d split a $5 bottle of wine while playing Uno on the living room floor. Or you’d cook his favorite meals for him while he sat at the counter, your dutiful taste tester. After particularly rough shifts, you’d take a bath, JJ leaning back into you as you rubbed his shoulders and he massaged your calves and feet.

Those nights would always lead to the two of you tangled up in your bed, or the shower, or on the floor. The beauty of owning your own home was that there was not one place - or position - you hadn’t tried. When you were first together, you had to talk JJ through pleasuring you, no girl ever being as honest with him as you were. He made you promise you’d never fake it with him, and you didn’t, patiently telling and showing him exactly what you wanted. He studied dutifully, storing away every single word you said. Now, you didn’t have to tell him anything, he knew exactly what to do. Hell, he knew your body better than you did.

“Just sit back and relax, baby girl, I got you,” he’d say, smiling coyly as you inevitably came undone for him in minutes.

Every night, whether you’d had sex or just talked about your days, he’d hold you until you fell asleep. And every night, without fail, he’d ask you to marry him. You’d just kiss him and tell him you loved him, falling asleep a few moments later. He didn’t take it personally, he understood why you were hesitant, and he’d wait until you were old and gray if that’s what you needed.

. ⋆ * .♡ *:･. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･. ˖ ࣪ .

This was the first night in a long time JJ held you in bed and didn’t propose. A tropical storm was raging outside your little house, winds making the walls sway and rain pounding against the windows so hard you think they might break. You’re shaking in JJ’s arms, you’ve always hated storms and this is the worst one that’s hit the island in a long time. He pulls the covers over your head and wraps his strong arms around you tightly, trying to drown out the noise of the storm with soothing words.

“It’s gonna be okay, love,” he promises. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen. ‘S just a little rain, it’ll pass.”

Even though you were terrified, his confident words were enough to lull you into sleep sometime in the early morning. When you wake up, JJ isn’t in bed next to you. Sun is peeking through the crack in the curtains and the sound of birds chirping has replaced the thunder. You pull on your robe and slippers and shuffle out of the bedroom.

You brew yourself some coffee, thankful the power is still on, and walk around the house to check for leaks or damage. There isn’t a single problem. You sigh in relief, beyond grateful for all the hard work JJ had put in to make the house so safe.

Suddenly, you hear voices coming from outside the screen door. You look out to see commotion up and down the street, you set your coffee down and step outside, eyes wide as you take in the storm’s aftermath. You realize with dismay that you and JJ were the only house on the block that seemed untouched. Every other yard was riddled with debris, roofs were damaged, windows broken.

You spotted JJ across the street, helping a neighbor lift heavy branches off of his car. Feeling helpless, you hurried back into the house and pulled out everything you had in the pantry and fridge, making sandwiches and cutting up veggies, loading up the back of JJ’s landscaping van with the food. You parked the van at the end of the street and handed out the food and drinks to everyone, creating a makeshift block party, while JJ made his way house to house to see how he could help with the damage.

You try to listen as your neighbors discuss the volume of the thunder and share stories of past storms, but you couldn’t help the way your eyes kept drifting back to JJ. He looked so strong and capable, lifting heavy branches, boarding up broken windows, clearing debris. Every neighbor he helped was left laughing, their smiles wide as he eased their worry by just being him.

Once it starts to get dark, you and JJ invite everyone over for a bonfire and cookout in your backyard. You’re sitting by the fire, watching with adoration as JJ plays tag football with all the kids. He purposely let them win, making them feel like they were ten feet tall. They all dogpile on him in excitement and you laugh along with all the other adults, shaking your head lovingly.

One of the young moms in the neighborhood you had come to know fairly well sits next to you, smiling knowingly as she watches you watch him.

“It’s really none of my business,” she says to you quietly, “but why aren’t you two married?”

You don’t look away from JJ as you respond, “y’know, I had a reason, but I can’t seem to remember what it was.”

After everyone has left, the yard is a mess of solo cups and the fire still burns. You look around and sigh, you’ve been cooking and helping people all day, and you didn’t realize how exhausted you were after getting so little sleep last night. You start to pick up, yawning as you bend down to pick up something off the ground. You feel JJ’s arms around your waist, hugging you tightly. You lean back into him and sway as he places a kiss on your cheek.

“Loved watching you today,” he says, his voice low. “Cooking for everyone, making sure everyone was okay. You’re such a good person, baby.”

You smile at his praise. ��I learned it from you,” you say sweetly.

“Nah, babe, you got that the wrong way around,” he laughed. “You think the me you met five years ago would’ve been out here helping people clean up? I would’ve taken one look around and gotten the hell out of here.”

You smile at this, knowing he was right, picturing eighteen-year-old JJ grabbing his board and peeling out of the neighborhood at the first sight of trouble.

“You made me a better man,” he says, his tone serious now.

You lift one of his hands up to your lips, kissing his knuckles affectionately. He holds you for a long while as you look up at the stars, the night clear and calm after the storm.

“I drew you a bath,” he breaks the silence.

“Thank you, but I have to clean up,” you say, breaking from his hold and looking around the messy yard.

He just takes the trash from your hand and shakes his head, “I’ve got it, love. You don’t want your bath to get cold and waste the water.”

You smile at him, knowing his play. “You turned it on before telling me so I couldn’t say no.”

He doesn’t deny it, just kisses you on the cheek and starts picking up more empty paper plates and cups.

The bath water was perfect when you got in, your favorite candle already lit and some soft music playing. Your heart squeezed at JJ’s thoughtfulness as you relaxed into the warm water and let it wash away the day.

From your spot in the tub, you could see JJ in the yard, lit by the moon as he poured water over the fire to put it out. You felt suddenly emotional, overwhelmed by the deepest affection for him. You thought about his comment that you’d made him a better man. It was true that he’d grown so much in the last five years, but you couldn’t take all the credit. Maybe you were the reason he’d begun the journey, but he got to this destination all on his own. No one worked harder than him, or loved harder, or played harder. He provided for you, while still acknowledging how hard you worked, too. He encouraged all your dreams, listened to all of your anxious ramblings, laughed at all your stupid jokes. He never missed the chance to tell you how smart, beautiful, and special you were. He was selfless, always putting your needs before his. Even when you’d fight, he never walked away, never let the night end without trying to come to an understanding, only sleeping on the couch when he knew what you needed most was space. He’s proven to you over and over that he’s become the man you need.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear the bedroom door open and shut. You hear JJ shuffle around in the bedroom for a bit before settling, surely not wanting to interrupt your relaxation. It hits you all at once, finally finding the answer he’s been wanting from you for years.

You drain the tub and stand at the sink,running your hands through your hair and dabbing on a little lipgloss. You rub vanilla scented lotion into your skin, JJ’s favorite. You walk over to the walk-in closet he built for you, digging through the drawers until you find a new pair of pink lace panties and its matching bra and garter set that he hasn’t seen you in yet.

When you slowly open the bathroom door and step into the bedroom, JJ is sitting on the bed in only his boxers, leaning against the headboard as he scrolls on his phone.

“Babe, you need to see these videos of the swells this morning,” he tells you, eyes still fixed to his phone as you start to walk slowly toward the bed. “We gotta get out there tomorrow.”

“Whatever you want, baby,” you purr.

He looks up the sound of your sultry voice, eyes immediately widening at the sight of you in your lingerie. He sits up, moving to the side of the bed and throwing his phone behind him, not even caring when it bounces off the mattress and onto the floor with a crash.

“Damnnnn,” he whistles at you playfully, making your cheeks heat up as you giggle.

“You like it?” You do a little twirl for him.

He looks you up and down hungrily, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. He hooks his finger and motions for you, “get over here.”

A rush of excitement flows through you, straight to your core, and you saunter over to him. He spreads his knees apart so you can stand in front of him, between his legs. He looks up at you, his eyes burying into yours as he slowly reaches his hand up to rest on your hip.

“I love it,” he places a soft kiss onto your stomach and you feel goosebumps shoot up all over your skin. He kisses you a few more times before pulling back slightly to mumble, “it’s too bad I’m gonna have to rip it off.”

You moan softly at the feeling of his soft lips grazing over the sensitive skin right above the waistband of your panties. Before he can go any further, you grab his face in both hands and lift his gaze back up to yours.

“You first,” you whisper.

JJ’s lips spread in a wicked smile, and you instinctively press the pads of your thumbs into his dimples. You lean down to place a quick kiss to his lips before saying, “lay down.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says eagerly as he scrambles back to lean against the headboard.

You slowly climb over him, your knees on either side of his lap, and ever so slightly drop your hips, your core ghosting over his clothed cock. At the slightest contact, he groans, unable to help himself but attach his lips to your neck. He sucks on the sensitive skin for a moment, before running his tongue over the same spot.

“Mmmm, you taste like vanilla,” you smile at the warmth in his words.

“Put on that lotion you like,” you explain as you grind down on him again, just a little harder this time.

“God,” he groans. “You’re so good to me.”

“Not as good as you are to me,” you smile down at him as you start rolling your hips in a steady rhythm. He throws his head back, reveling in the feeling of you, fingers digging into your hips to guide you to continue grinding. You place soft, wet kisses on his neck and chest, offering him a praise between each one.

“You make me so happy…treat me so well…fuck me so good…make me come so hard…make me so fucking horny…”

His dick twitches in his boxers at the sound of your dirty talk. You continue moving your kisses down his abs, backing up your body to reach lower with each one.

“Fuck, angel,” he chokes out, “you got me so hard.”

You look up at him with a smirk, you’re between his legs now, face inches from the waistband of his boxers, you arch your back so your ass sticks up behind you, giving him a perfect angle of your body.

“Can I taste you, J?” You pout, as if he’d ever say no.

“Mhm, do whatever you want,” he pants, brushing your hair back from your face and tucking it behind your ear. Even when he has you in this position, he’s sweet, taking care of you.

“All I want is to make you happy,” you tell him, your intent was to sound sexy, but you can’t help the bit of emotion that creeps in, realizing how true your words are on so many levels.

He sits up when he notices the way your brow is drawn together in sincerity. He kisses your forehead and whispers, “all you gotta do to make me happy is exist.”

This man is perfect, you think, a huge grin on your face. You kiss him back once before laying your hand gently on his chest so he’ll lay back. You keep your hand over his heart as the other pulls down the waistband of his boxers. His dick springs free the second the fabric is out of the way. Even after all these years, your stomach still flips with excitement when you see his cock hard and needy for you. He places one hand over yours on his chest, while his other hand finds its way back into your hair.

You wrap your fingers around his shaft gently and he sucks in a sharp breath, overly sensitive from how worked up you’ve got him. You drop a kiss to the tip, leaving a dab of lipgloss behind, quick to brush it off with your thumb, the motion making his hips buck up.

You know he’s trying to be patient, not to rush, afraid to pressure you. Your heart swells at his considerate restraint. You reward his patience by flattening your tongue and dragging it from his base to his tip, swirling it over the tip a few times before bringing his cockhead into your lips.

He looks down at you, eyes wide, watching the way your mouth accepts him. You moan softly at the taste of him and it reverberates through his body, making his head fall back against the headboard with a bang.

“Are you ok, love?” You ask nervously.

He laughs and shakes his head at his own clumsiness, “I’m fine baby, you just got me so damn worked up, your mouth feels so good.”

You smile in satisfaction and return your mouth to his tip. You work him into your mouth slowly, inch by inch, trying to relax your throat as best you can. Even though you’ve done this many times, you’ve never gotten used to the size of him. He knows it, too, looking at you with concern as you start to gag a bit, only two-thirds of the way down.

“Don’t hurt yourself, it’s okay if you stop there,” you pull off of him and he thinks you’re done, but you just shush him as you run your hand up and down his shaft a few times before diving back in.

When he’s finally all the way in, his tip nudging the back of your throat, you moan to disguise your gag so he knows you’re okay. He seems to relent, tugging slightly at the roots of your hair and gripping your hand harder, you hollow your cheeks and start to bob up and down.

“Shhhit,” he says through clenched teeth. “That’s perfect, baby. You’re so fucking perfect.”

You keep up the pace for a couple minutes, JJ a whining mess beneath you. You adored the sound of him letting go and feeling good. He worked so hard, and always tried to prove how strong he was, nothing felt better than making him finally relax.

When you moaned around him again, he bucked his hips up subconsciously.

“Wait,” he sat up, “wait wait wait.”

You pulled off of him, startled, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s so good, too good,” he rushed to assure you. “Not gonna last much longer.”

You smiled pridefully, “where do you want to finish, baby?”

“Inside, need to be inside you, please,” he used the hand he was holding to pull you up to him, making you laugh as you fall onto his chest.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” you giggled, placing a swift kiss on his lips.

“Yeah?” He taunts as he flips you onto your back gently, slipping his finger under the strap of your bra. “You finally gonna let me rip these off of you?”

You pull your lip between your teeth and nod, watching JJ’s hands move swiftly to rid you of the lacy fabric. Once he had your bra and panties off, he kissed you again, and you let out a little sigh into his mouth. He studied your face as his hand dipped between your legs, two fingers gliding through your wetness. You whimpered and twitched beneath him as he grazed your clit.

“All this for me?” He asked, well aware of the answer.

“Yes,” you grabbed his shoulders to steady yourself, the pressure of his fingers against you so good your legs were starting to shake. “I’m yours, J. Forever.”

His nostrils flared slightly at the sound of the words, never needing to be inside you quite as much as he did in that moment. He used your wetness on his hand to get his dick ready, sliding in slowly as your back arched while you gasped at the sensation.

“Forever, huh?” He asks as he sinks into you.

You nod desperately, pulling a wicked grin from him as he finally bottoms out. He starts to rock in and out of you, slowly at first, picking up the pace when you wrap your legs around his waist, clinging to him.

“I love you so much,” he says so earnestly your heart aches, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I love you too, you have no idea,” you tell him.

When he shifts his hips slightly so his pelvis rubs over your clit, you clench around him, crying his name in pleasure.

“I think I have some idea,” he teases.

You squeeze him again, harder, making the smile fall from his lips as he groans, jaw clenched.

As JJ picks up his pace, brushing over your clit with each deep thrust, both of you moan, your breaths becoming frenzied and your sweat mixing together everywhere your skin touches.

His words are a tangled mess of I love yous and fucks, yours a chant of oh my gods and his name. You squeeze him again, your orgasm approaching. He watches your face, eyes shut tight and lips parted, your hair a halo around you as he presses you into the pillows with each stroke. It’s the most beautiful sight, he thinks, the most precious person in the world, completely lost in the joy he’s giving her.

He can’t help himself when he whispers, “marry me.”

Your eyes shoot open, meeting his with surprise, and he wishes he hadn’t said it, that he had waited until later like he did every other night, when you were falling asleep and too tired to scold him for his impulsiveness.

But then, you reach your hand up to caress his face, running your thumb over his bottom lip, looking at him with so much love and affection.

“Yes,” you say.

He stops moving into you and leans away from your face a bit, positive that he misheard you.

“Wh-what?” He sounds concerned, like maybe he was dreaming and none of this was really happening.

“I wanna marry you, JJ,” you repeat, your voice sure and unwavering. You caress his cheek with your thumb, waiting for his mind to catch up with his ears.

When it finally does, he places a kiss on your palm and sinks into you again, moving slowly at first in his dazed state, before you lift your hips, reminding him how you like it. He pounds into you, the sounds of skin slapping and heavy breaths filling the room as you near your high.

“You gonna be my wife?” JJ asks, watching your face contort with pure bliss.

“Yes!” You cry, the wave of your orgasm crashing into you hard, your clenching walls pulling JJ’s from him as he fills you.

That night, while JJ held you like he always did, your back to his chest, he’s uncharacteristically quiet. You turn in his arms so you can look at him, trying to read his face.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

“I’m trying to figure out how long I have to wait before I can start asking if we can have a baby,” he admits, his tongue poking into his cheek.

You laugh loudly, swatting his shoulder.

“You really don’t give up, do you Maybank?”

“On you? Never.”

a/n: in which nat takes a break from all the rafe angst to write some jj fluff. I saw some of the jj girlies say he needs more fics, so i'd thought I'd try writing for him and I had soooo much fun!! also I fear short 'n sweet has a death grip on my one-shots, oh well.

#obx fic #jj maybank #jj obx #jj outer banks #jj obx imagine #JJ smut #JJ maybank smut #obx smut #outer banks fic #outer banks #outer banks smut #JJ x reader #JJ maybank x reader #x reader #JJ fluff #JJ maybank fic

2K notes · View notes

noonecareslol · 7 days ago

Text

˖ ִ ೀ 𝐀 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐏𝐭 𝟐

Hwang In-ho x Fem! Reader

Summary: When the games aren’t in session, and In-ho is lonely, he finds himself in the first row at the ballet. Watching you. After you entered his life, everything changed. His secret is becoming harder to hide, along with his love.

TW: Channeling my love for older men. Age gap (reader is 25 In-ho is 49). Just FLUFF with SMUT! In-ho learning how to love someone again. Quite literally head over heels for you. Size kink if you squint.

WC! 3k Part 1! -> here!

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You were twelve when you started to dance.

You had been walking with your friend, heading to a convenience store when you saw it.

“Limelight Dance Studio”

However, it wasn’t the sign that caught your attention. Or the big beautiful building that looked like it belonged in a fairytale. What caught your attention was the woman walking into the studio.

Her hair was in a tight, slick bun, and her loose jacket covered her torso. Her pointe shoes were clutched in her hand as she rushed in, pushing past the door as she headed toward her class.

That day you went home and marched straight up to your mother, a flier clutched in your tiny hands. She said no at first, practically shattering your small heart. But without you knowing, she spent that month saving every cent she could, surprising you with a pair of ballet flats and admission to the dance studio.

From then on, your life centered around ballet.

At 17, you finally transitioned to Pointe after years of training. And once you laced the ribbons, you were unstoppable. Every time you were on stage, you were in your element. Glowing with potential.

Dancing is where you thrive. It’s where you belonged.

You studied abroad at Juilliard for four years, becoming the perfect ballerina you had strived to be. And when you returned, the Seoul Ballet Company practically begged you to dance for them.

You accepted the offer calmly, but deep down the little girl who had fallen in love with dance was screaming. You have finally achieved your dream.

You were perfect. Life was perfect. It was fulfilled, and you didn’t need anything more.

Right?

You had your fair share of relationships, but nothing ever serious. Not when your life centered around ballet. Your career was always the main reason your relationships ended, but you couldn't care less.

Men didn't make you happy, dance did.

And you knew that for a relationship to work, you would have to find someone just like you. Busy, determined, focused, perfect.

One night, after many glasses of wine, you realize your standards are extremely unrealistic.

Which, they are.

So you decided to give up on dating.

But often, when it’s late at night, you find yourself lonely. You thought about getting a cat, which you had been excited about. But your bitchy landlord didn’t allow it. So instead, you found comfort in watching old movies.

They came on after dark. The black and white glow illuminating your small living room. You would come home from practice, tossing your bag by the front door before jumping onto the couch. Snacks in one hand, a glass of wine in the other, and your eyes glued to the flatscreen. You would stay up late, watching Audrey Hepburn explore Rome or enjoy a breakfast at Tiffany's until you fall asleep.

You’d wake up at 8:00 am, sluggishly getting ready for the gym before chugging your espresso. You’d work out, maybe some pilates or weight training, then grab some lunch. Sometimes you would come home and take a nap, sometimes you would hang out with friends, but often you found yourself lounging by the cafe.

People watching had became your favorite activity.

You’d sit in the uncomfortable metal chair, your chicken salad sandwich sitting untouched on the table in front of you, and you’d watch as people went about their day.

The cafe was placed across the street from a tall building full of luxury apartments, which you bet probably allowed cats. Yes, you were still bitter about that.

One specific day, when you were sitting in the familiar metal chair, you found yourself watching someone intently.

He was quickly walking down the sidewalk, carefully dodging people as he carried a brown bag full of groceries. You gasped as a stranger ran out in front of him abruptly, knocking his belongings to the floor.

You scoffed as the person he’d crashed into walked past, not even offering to help. And your feet almost moved on their own as you walked straight over to help him gather his groceries.

Little words were exchanged, “Thank you.” “You didn’t have to do that.” “Have a nice day.” You assumed he didn’t pay much attention to the interaction.

But you did.

There was something so captivating about him. Something so endearing that captured your attention, something you couldn’t quite describe.

Since then, you often hoped to see him again.

You just didn’t expect to see him in the front row at your ballet.

That was a surprise.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Pspspsps!” You rubbed your fingers together, bending down to the ground, “Come here, Elisabeth. Pspsps!”

The fluffy white cat came around the corner, eying you with skepticism as you motioned her to approach you. She was a sassy girl and didn’t fully trust you yet, but that didn’t bug you.

She was honestly intimidating.

You smile widely as she walks towards you, happy to finally make a connection with her. But as she walked past you without even a glance, you sighed, watching as she planted herself in front of your boyfriend's feet.

You stood up and rested your hands on your hips, "She'll love me one day." You watched as she rubbed against In-ho's legs, a quiet purr causing a small smile to form on your lips.

She is intimidating, but she sure is cute.

In-ho keeps his gaze on you, watching how you slightly pout at Elisabeth's adorable nature. His heart flutters, something that's becoming increasingly common in the last five months of your relationship.

It has been five months since your ankle fracture, which is now completely healed thanks to In-ho's firm instructions to rest. You honestly think he just didn't want you to leave his apartment, but you weren't complaining.

Five months since your shared kiss that ultimately changed both of your lives. You moved in after about three months, which turned out to be a great idea, despite everyone saying it was too soon. When he first brought up the question, you were skeptical. But as soon as he mentioned an in-unit washer and dryer, you took the key.

Your mother was concerned at first, especially about the age gap. But you brushed it off. In-ho was quite literally perfect for you, as were you for him. Age didn't matter to you when you both completed each other's heart.

The first thing you did when you moved in was decorate. Not his entire apartment, obviously, but you did go to Home Depot and buy a few plants.

Cat-safe, of course.

Once your ankle healed, you went back to dancing. And, just like before, every Friday In-ho would watch you practice. Though he doesn't sit in the back anymore, he sits front and center.

After your practice, he always gives you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, tulips. He would take your bag with his arm around yours, and you would walk to your apartment together.

Life was, simply put, perfect.

It was bliss. A happiness that was only obtained when you brought down your walls and let a stranger in. A stranger who captured your heart, mind, and everything in between.

When you first discovered his collection of old films and music, you could've sworn you fell in love with him just then. You knew you were perfect for each other already, but the shared interest solidified that.

Nights aren't lonely anymore. Not when your bed is shared by the man who you adore, and a fluffy white cat who is determined to sleep with you.

His arms are wrapped around you, your back pressed to his chest as he holds you tight. His head nuzzled into the back of your neck as he snores, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as you dream.

Your legs are tangled, intertwined under the covers as your hearts beat the same rhythm. Your hands are wrapped on top of his, the feeling of being in his arms familiar and comfortable. It would be impossible to sleep without each other, you both knew that.

So when In-ho sits you down on a warm June night and explains he has to leave for a work trip, you cry. I know, it's dramatic. But you had spent the last five months in each other's presence. Holding each other, kissing each other, making love on the very bed you sleep in together. Where you went, he followed. Where he traveled, you joined.

You needed him. He was the air that filled your lungs, giving you breath. He was the blood that flowed through your veins and pumped your heart, giving you life. He was your soul, your mind. He had you wrapped around his finger, and you knew it.

Vice versa, you were his whole being. He based every decision around you, around your future together. He's made sacrifices you couldn't even imagine. He went from letting the games be the center of his life, to you being the center of his universe.

You were all he could think about.

Important business meeting about the upcoming games? Forget it. In-ho is at home making Kimchi with you, having forgotten all about it.

Meeting with the V.I.P's? What meeting. In-ho is too busy indulging in his desire with his tongue deep in your core, a hand clamped around your throat.

You were his sole purpose on this earth. Where you walked, flowers bloomed behind you. Wherever you went, the sun would shine. In-ho felt he didn't deserve you. No, he knew he didn't deserve you.

He never told you that though. Of course, if he did, you would smack him upside the head, "Seven days? Where are they making you go?" You cried into his shoulder, your body resting on his lap as he sat back on the plush couch.

His heart breaks a little at the sound of your cries, his thumb brushing away the tears that fell, "I just have to host this private game. I'll be back so soon, I promise." Your cries didn't change, his shirt dampening as you snuggled deeper into his chest, "I will call you every chance I can. I promise."

You looked up at him, giving a pathetic sniffle as you spoke, "When do you leave?" You sit up fully now, straightening your top. He rubs his big hand over your arm, watching as goosebumps trail behind.

He looks up at you, a hand fiddling with your exposed bra strap, "Tomorrow morning." He sighs as he watches a pout form on your pretty mouth, his thumb brushing over your lips.

"What do I do while you're gone?" You pull his hand from your face, holding it in your own as you play with his fingers.

In-ho hasn't failed to notice how his pants tightened since you've been sitting innocently on his lap, your hips slowly rocking as you sobbed into his shoulder moments ago. You knew it too. The second he played with your bra strap, the emotion in the air changed from angst to lust.

And if he was going to be gone for seven days, might as well enjoy the night, "Come here." His voice was low and demanding as he took his hand from your grasp, taking a hold of your side.

Your mouth parted as his hand moved down, softly caressing every curve of your perfect body. Though his eyes stayed peering into your own, watching your reaction to every touch.

He smirked as you gave a breathless gasp, his hand pinching your hip as you slowly grind your hips down. His hard cock rubbing against your desire raises an all-too-familiar feeling in the deep of your stomach.

Wordlessly, his hand comes behind you, laying you down on the couch as he stands up. Towering over your body as he unbuttoned his shirt, your eyes trail across every inch of exposed skin.

He moves between your legs, his hands coming to your face as he pulls you into a needy kiss. Your hands find his back, your fingers rubbing, digging into his skin as he fucks your mouth with his tongue.

He pulls away, breathlessly moving his hands down to the hem of your shirt. You watch with lustful eyes as he tugs your top up and over your head with one swift motion. His hands find your bare skin, pinching and squeezing your sides with hunger in his dark eyes.

Heat pools between your thighs, your hand sneaking under your panties as In-ho unhooks your bra swiftly. He leans back, taking you in awe as he trails his eyes over your body.

He gives a small laugh at the sight of your hand slowly fucking yourself, "Tsk, as much as I love seeing you do that, you will have seven days to do it. Tonight, you don't have to do a thing."

Your eyes snap open as he dips his hand under your panties and over your own, moving your hand up to your parted mouth. He pushes your hand towards your lips, a smirk evident on his own as he puts your delicate fingers inside your pretty mouth.

He sighs as you taste yourself, the heat becoming unbearable between your goose-bumped legs, "See how sweet you taste? Do you see why im starved all the time?" He kisses your jaw between his words, his hands slipping off your bottoms, your panties gone with it.

He stands again, tossing your clothes into a pile, his bottoms going with it. He towers over the couch, intimidating you like he did all those months ago.

You sit up, your small hands delicately reaching up and leaving tiny bolts of electricity on his abs as you trace down. You take your thumb, wiping the precum from his sensitive tip. His head falls back just from that touch alone, and as desperate as he is to see your lips swollen and wrapped around him, he remembers his promise.

You lean down, your lips centimeters away from his length when his strong hand pulls your chin up, "You aren't doing a thing, remember?" You whine, his strong arms laying you back down on the couch.

He comes between your legs again, lifting your hips up as he traces his cock between your pussy. The sound of your slick fills his ears, and a small "fuck" falls from his lips. It takes everything in you not to buck your hips, the need becoming irresistible as he lines himself up with your core.

He takes a hand and lifts your face, desperate to see your pretty eyes as he fucks into you. As he sinks in, the familiar feeling of ecstasy overtakes him as he stretches you.

He sets a rhythm, fucking you as he stares into your eyes, your eyebrows raised and mouth agape as your hips meet with a slap. His free hand comes behind your waist, supporting your legs as you meet his thrusts.

In-ho didnt fuck.

He made love.

And that shit was passionate as fuck.

His eyes never left yours. Not once. Not even when he places a hand on your stomach, feeling the bulge of his cock deep in your womb. You, on the other hand, writhed beneath him. Your moans filling your shared apartment, mixing with the pornographic sounds from In-ho,.

Your head sank back into the couch, your hand coming to hold his own as he quickened his thrusts. His other hand that supported you moved to your clit, pressing and rubbing perfectly over your sensitive bud.

If there was one thing about In-ho, it's that he's determined to make you cum with him.

Every. Single. Time.

So when his hand reaches your clit, you know he's close, "In-ho, please- god. Please don't stop." You didn't yell or scream. Your voice was sultry, full of desire.

He throws a head back at your words, his warmth spilling deep into your womb with one final deep thrust as you clench around him. You meet him, finding your own ethereal as you reach your climax.

He whines with his thrusts as he slows down, emptying into your tight core, "When... when I'm gone." You furrow your eyebrows, catching your breath as he pulls out of you, "This next week, when I'm gone."

He lays with you on the couch, pulling you to lay on his chest, "Whenever you need me, I want you to use your pretty little fingers and fuck yourself while you think about this moment." You blushed, despite just taking his cock only a moment ago.

He brings his hand to your face, his thumb parting your lips, "Can you promise me that?" Your eyes slightly water, remembering why you were even crying in the first place.

"I promise." Your voice was a whisper, smiling up at In-ho as he kissed your forehead. You take a deep breath, realizing just how much he means to you. Just how much you need him.

If only you knew.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

An: I actually wrote most of this during my mom's colonoscopy LMFAO. Also, guys imma be so fr with you, I'm so tired lmao. But here! The long-awaited part 2 which is basically just fluff to smut lmao. I've never been one to really write part twos (I hate feeling like I HAVE to write because then it turns into a chore) BUT I actually enjoyed writing this one. Im gonna work through my requests and also please join my taglist! Love you guys!

@sxmmerchxldblog @bohemiandelilah @nicki-lovesolderfictionalmen @menabuser16 @speedymagazinewhispers @nellabear @marymun @orihime188 @nanascupid @fnl9zer @chasinghxran @crystalizia @auspicious-lilana @machipyun @cdej6 @namelesslosers @lovelymindescape @macnbriee @rosegracewood09@gurjxxpp11 @shadow-tumbler @veiledsaint @rosyflowerss

#hwang inho x reader #hwang in ho #in ho x reader #squid game #squid game x reader #squid games #hwang in ho x reader #in ho #001 x reader

792 notes · View notes

pomegranatesarchive · 6 months ago

Note

Oscar piastri x reader smau, but she’s completely anonymous and people are trying to find her after Oscar revealed he was married to someone?

nobody ever asked me | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: oscar piastri shocks the world by letting it be known that he is married, and has been for the past two years

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, logansargent, and 1,017,827 others!

oscarpiastri: vacation with the wifey! 🧡

view comments below!

user1: oh that’s not

user2: excuse me the what?

user3: this is interesting!

landonorris: wait what

oscarpiastri; what?

landonorris: wait what are you being serious?

oscarpiastri: about what?

landonorris: oh i don’t know maybe you having a WIFE???

oscarpiastri; yes i do have a wife!

landonorris: WHAT THE FUCK

user4: oh so oscar not joking?...

user5: feeling like lando rn because what the fuck???

user6; this just ruined my day

maxverstappen1: i knew you were lying about SOMETHING

oscarpiastri: ive never lied to anyone, nobody ever asked me if i had a wife

maxverstappen1; that’s….fair

user7: THATS NOT FAIR??? OSCAR WTF?? YOU CANT JUST SPRING THIS ON PEOPLE???

charles_leclerc: nice pictures oscar!!!!

charles_lelcerc: wait a minute...

charles_leclerc: wife????

charles_leclerc: what?? what? what??

charles_leclerc: i am so bamboozled right now!

charles_leclerc: am i walking the prank? i feel like i am walking the prank

oscarpiastri: no you aren't walking the prank? whatever that means? ive been married for a little over two years now!

user8: TWO YEASR??? LIKE 730 DAYS??????

user9: no you guys actually dont understand, this is driving me crazy?

user10: this is SUCH an oscar thing to do tho.. like randomly announcing thats hes been married for 2 years??

user11: he took oscar core to a whole new level

user12: my heart just broke

user13: you should've announced that you had a gf first, my heart cant take this

danielricciardo: i'm a little late, don't know whats going on..so? congratulations? my condolences?

oscarpiastri: thank you daniel!!

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 691,616 others!

oscarpiastri: some more pictures of the wife since you all seem so curious! here’s my wife, yn, and her book store 🧡

view comments below!

user14: YN!!!! WE GOT HER NAME

user15: HALLELUJAH

user15: yn is a beautiful name

user16: HER bookstore?? she owns a bookstore??

user17: the way she probably has so much lore and we will never learn about it is so??

user18: we're only going to learn about when oscar randomly decides to drop some info: key example: THIS POST 😭

maxverstappen1: I KNEW HER NAME FIRST!!!

oscarpiastri: only because she's your biggest fan and she begged to meet you

maxverstappen1: stay mad

oscarpiastri: she's married to me??

maxverstappen1: and yet she's MY biggest fan

user19: DAMN MAX

user20: oscar was SILENCED

user21: i need to know when he them, how they got together, and what theyre wedding was like

user22: it kills me to know we will never get this information

user22: its actually so crazy how oscar said yn has been to all of the races so far?? like how didnt we notice her 😭

user23: what if shes been in front of us the whole time and we just mistook her for like a mclaren team member or something

user24: well now I have to go look at every single oscar picture out there and try to find something

user25: or you could, idk? respect that she doesnt want to show her face online?

user26: but thats no fun

charles_leclerc: it was great meeting her!! ❤️

user27: they met her? 💔💔💔

oscarpiastri: she says thanks for the lec ice cream!

user27: he gave her lec icecream?? 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

user28: ive only known about yns existence for a month and a half, but if anything happened to her, i would kill everyone on earth and then myself.

liked by oscarpiastri

. . .

note: thanks for requesting!! hope you enjoyed(*≧▽≦)

2K notes · View notes

hairmetal666 · 4 months ago

Text

Eddie survived the Upside Down. The bats. Vecna. And after the hospital, the town recovery, the shady government agencies clearing his name, after all of that, he has the best year and a half of his life. A lot of it is due to Steve and Robin. Well. The whole group of them, really, but Harrington and Buckley specifically.

Except that, you know, he survived extra-dimensional horrors and now he's going to die anyway, brought down in his prime by his devastating crush on Steve Harrington.

It's a stupid way to meet his end. Even worse than going at the hands of a demented telepathic wizard named after a DnD monster. Though...it's not like he didn't see the crush coming a mile away. Eddie may not have any practical experience in matters of the heart, but he knows he likes a pretty boy and Steve is the prettiest of them all.

There is no dimension where his feelings are requited, so he flirts and he pines, and knows it means nothing when Steve matches him quip for quip, touch for touch. He keeps getting himself in these situations where he thinks--maybe--but Steve is straight, constantly goes out with pretty, bubbly girls.

The pining may kill him, but he's determined to leave this world with a little bit of grace.

Until Steve's Halloween party.

It's a whole thing. All the kids, the rest of their own group of young adults, plus the Hellfire Boys, and the actual adults. It's a weird mix, but Eddie figures that, well. It's a family thing.

Halloween is his favorite holiday, one he plans for all year, but this year he decides to take it easy, electing to do a take on the vampire gang from The Lost Boys. The party is in full swing when they walk in, Wayne quickly spotting Hopper and making his way to the kitchen, but Eddie doesn't see Steve in the chaos of kids and Jonathan and Argyle's dual Frankensteins.

He grabs a beer from Robin who keeps giving him this look all knowing and sparkling and he doesn't understand it, not until he hears delighted laughter and shouts in the main room.

Buckley squeezes past him, and he takes the moment alone to close his eyes, brace for whatever fresh, unwitting, torture Steve has in store for him tonight.

He steps into the living room and time freezes.

Steve's in the shortest shorts Eddie's ever seen, thick, muscular, bitable thighs on full display. He's wearing a pink sweatshirt, neon fingerless gloves that very distantly Eddie recognizes as belonging to El, and gold hoop earrings in both ears.

Eddie has to sit down.

Wham! Isn't his kind of music, and he finds George Michael grating because of it, but--he's seen men dressed like that in magazines he steals from bookstores in Indianapolis, had wondered if George Michael was gay too. And now here Steve is, looking like a fantasy ripped direct from Eddie's brain.

Before he can make an escape, someone turns on the Monster Mash. The two Frankenstein's lurch into the room and start dancing. The rest of them are quick to follow, even Wayne and Hopper, after some light cajoling from Joyce, Max, and El.

It's silly fun, the perfect way for Eddie to forget about Steve and the way his ass looked in those shorts. They dance and goof around, and Thriller comes on, so they all try to do the dance, him and Nancy laughing until their stomachs hurt with their stiff-limbed moves.

The song switches to Material Girl, making El and Max screech, and the next thing he knows, Steve is in front of him, shimmying along. It's the closest they've been all night and now Eddie can see the faint eyeliner smudged along Steve's lash line. Something low and hot tightens in his core.

Steve grabs his shoulders, pulls Eddie closer. "C'mon, Munson, even you have to dance to Madonna!"

He laughs through his breathlessness, can't believe he and Steve are dancing together, not with Steve looking like that, somehow innocent, sexy, and ripe all at once.

Their eyes meet and Steve smiles all slow and dangerous, knotting up Eddie's stomach with a wild kind of anticipation. He doesn't have time to stop himself feeling it, can only give himself over to the shrinking distance between their bodies, the way Steve is warm and muscular against him.

Eddie's not hearing the music anymore, unaware of all their friends dancing close by. He's hypnotized by the dark heat in Steve's hazel eyes, lets himself clutch at Steve's hip, drag their bodies together. He feels Steve's breath escape in a quick burst, and it's a crash of cold water.

He disentangles himself, rushes out the patio doors. The night air is bracing as it chills his heated skin, his burning lungs. He takes a cigarette out of his jacket pocket, lighting it with a shaking hand.

That was too much. He let himself feel too much; want too much. Got swept away by Steve in makeup and earrings and tiny shorts. On the street, he hears children laughing, music thumping from a passing car, tries to get lost in that instead of his embarrassment. It makes him miss the slide of the patio door opening again. Doesn't realize he's not alone until he hears Steve say, "Eddie? You okay?"

He nods, but doesn't turn. "Just needed some air." He lifts the smoldering embers of his cigarette before dropping it and stomping it out.

Steve stands close enough that their shoulders bump. Eddie forces himself not to flinch away. "What are you doing out here? You'll freeze." It's not all a deflection.

"I'm fine," Steve says. "Sweatshirt." He wiggles the sleeve in Eddie's face.

"Yeah, but your legs, man. C'mon." He pulls his jacket off his shoulders. "At least cover them up a little."

Steve gives him an annoyed smile, but takes the jacket, trying to settle the leather around his legs. It's kind of a losing battle, but it makes them both laugh.

"I'm sorry," Steve says. "For back there. I shouldn't have pushed."

"Pushed?" Eddie feels like he missed a couple of stairs on his way down. "You didn't--"

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I did, Eddie. And Robin said," he sighs. "Robin said to just talk to you but I'm shit with words, so."

"So?" He faces Steve now, completely perplexed about where this is going. "I'm the one who pushed too far."

"Of course you didn't." Steve laughs a little. "I wanted to dance with you. I wanted to be close to you."

Eddie takes a step back, nervous smile on his face. "Is this some kind of weird joke?"

"What? No! Why would it be? I'm trying to say that I like you, man."

"Wha--But you're--"

"Don't--don't say popular or a jock or any of that. I'm--you know who I am, Eddie, better than most people."

"I was going to say straight."

Steve stills, blinking. "I told you I was bisexual."

"You did not!" Eddie yelps.

"I did! After went to see The Lost Boys!" He grabs Eddie's leather jacket. "I said I thought Kiefer Sutherland was sexy!"

"I thought you were being hyperbolic!"

"I wore this for you!" Steve wiggles his naked calf in Eddie's face.

"I don't like even like Wham!"

"You stared at a picture of George Michael in this outfit in one of El's Teen Beats for fifteen minutes!"

"I did NOT!" Except now that Steve's said it, Eddie has a pretty good memory of doing that very thing. "Wait. You were trying to seduce me by dressing as George Michael?"

"Like you weren't doing the same with the whole hot vampire biker thing?"

"I didn't expect it to work!"

He doesn't--will never--know who closes the distance first, but they crash together in a clash of mouths and teeth and noses. Steve's hands fist into Eddie's t-shirt, Eddie yanking at Steve's belt loops, until nothing separates them.

The kiss breaks as Steve mouths along his jaw, down his neck, and Eddie's fucking helpless at the turn of events. Never in his wildest fantasies--

"Stay tonight?" Steve asks, voice muffled against Eddie's skin.

"Are you kidding, sweetheart? I'm going to tear these shorts off with my teeth."

1K notes · View notes

sideysvault · 24 days ago

Text

⋆˚࿔ Handmade 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Cregan Stark x fem!reader ₊ @hotd2025bingo. ₊

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱ • ⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

wc. 1258k

tags. [sfw] arranged marriage, slowborn, fluffy, family life, they are both shy and dumb, mutual pining.

────────

Most days, the woman was deeply intimidated by his presence, by his way of being. Cregan Stark had impossibly gray eyes, which reminded her of a winter storm. Whenever she walked behind him, his broad back would obfuscate almost all of her view. Not to mention his God's forsaken honor. It all made her uncomfortable.

It was like the North itself was rejecting her. No matter how hard she tried, she never seemed to be worthy enough for it, honorable, brave enough.

The prolonged exposure to the weather seemed to use all of her body’s stored energy. Most days, the Princess felt tired, with her facial muscles fighting to move against the freezing breeze, her cheeks were perpetually red, in a constant state of burning. And, the people of the region? Despite her best efforts, they still saw her as nothing more than an outsider. Someone not built like them, not educated on their rigid values. A liability at best, and a foreign spy at worst.

And the only thing more righteous than the frosted soil? The lord of Winterfell himself, Guardian of the North, Lord Cregan Stark. Her husband.

It is not like she could not admit it. It was intoxicating, that beautiful honor of his. Even after consummating the marriage, even after sharing the same bed in the cold of dawn, he called his wife by title instead of by name. She supposed it was to be taken as a sign of respect. But the majority of the time? It felt like a polite rejection.

The Princess did not need to corroborate the date to know what it was. She was turning a year older, alone, in a strange land with strange people. And even if she knew that she had no right to complain —After all, a young, kind, and distant husband is every woman’s dream— she had still hoped for marital love.

You see, beyond the tales of honor and horrifying efficiency, she had heard stories of families in the North being formed out of love and loyalty. Even rulers had this privilege, often growing to form meaningful connections with their arranged spouses. Perhaps the ardent patriotism they felt to their land seeped into their crops and fed them with devotion. Or so had the Princess thought. But it had been months now, and all of her efforts had been rendered futile.

In defiance of her pride, when he saw Cregan Stark, she couldn’t help but to waver under his charm. Feeling the inexplicable need to gain his affection at whatever cost. Cregan was a stern and formidable man and a good friend to even the Night's Watch, the most forlorn amongst the realm.

And Dear Gods, was he a handsome man. A long, steel-strong face, auburn brown hair, and unbelievably tall. Her husband did not need the heavy furs he usually wore to keep out the fur to look stout and robust, but they definitely made him look irresistibly personable. She had always thought that a Lord rarely wearing precious metals or jewelry was rare. Further, speaking on her husbands' rejection of traditional power structures. She had sin with a lack of modesty in the past, but now she viewed elaborate decoration as ostentatious and unnecessary, specially when their people were struggling.

Cregan was loud, just and had a strong moral compass. How could she compete? How could she ever complement his values?

She had a recurring dream, at least as of late. The woman had begun to wish for only two things: For her husband to perceive her as fair enough as to fall in love with her, and for the crimson red between her legs to stop appearing altogether. After all, who, amongst all men, could be a better father? A kinder husband?

────────

Regardless of the land's greatness, it could not be argued that the North was considered one of the poorest regions in Westeros. He tried to ignore his shameful instincts. But whenever he saw her, he couldn't help but feel like a brute. He did not have much to offer; a busy life, an inherited, dangerous prophecy, primal worship of the Old Gods, a struggle for survival, and his people, who were stern by nature.

He felt a pinch of superficial guilt in seeing his beautiful wife dressed in the North's dour clothing. The shades of blue and gray danced behind his eyes, covering her warm skin in the musky colors of the winter climate.

Cregan knew that this was merely an easy mark to avoid unraveling his true grievance with the situation. He could not provide what she deserved, and his wife still woke up besides him every morning, with a kind smile on her face.

This would be the first birthday his wife would spend on her new home. And Lord Cregan was trying to reclaim what he felt ashamed of. Determined to transform the grouches, into something she would like.

But how could he possibly thank her for her kindness if he just had all the work done by someone else? Making it himself would be the least she deserved. The Lord of Winterfell wanted to gift her a costumed jewel that would remind her that she deserved to have a little comfort in her life. He did notice how hard she had tried to follow the North's austere ways, specially his own. And while he endlessly appreciates her tact, he wanted her to let go of the idea that being married to him implied she had to restrict herself so severely. It was a weird thing, he thought. How fond he had become of her and how little he had been able to show it.

While he was gilding the hot metal, Cregan’s mind trailed off to her naked, sweaty back, and the way she turned back to look at him with lustful, doe-eyed eyes, he remembered the times she prepared them a glass of wind, ideal for them to share at night, talking till dawn about nothing in particular. The truth was that the Northerner was not particularly fluent with words, but he would love to hear her silky voice telling him stories and teach him facts that he would've never thought to be so fascinated by. He craved learning every detail about her, no matter how mundane. Cregan Stark adored her for travelling with him and learning about the winter soil and its costumes, meeting people with a strong, confident gaze that remained resolute, even in spite of her skin, which always cracked under the freezing cold.

He loved seeing her play with snow when she thought no one was watching, he liked how kind she was, that his wife was never scared of petting the wolves; He felt fascinated by how quickly they would trust her, as if they could also perceive the brave openness in her soul.

A smile appeared on his face as he realized that he wanted a family. Not for the continuation of his surname, but he wanted to create a home of their own, with who he considered to be quickly becoming his closest friend. Having a babe that carried their mother’s laugh within them, her wit, her curiosity, It would make him the happiest man in Westeros.

He tried to infuse in every dent all the words he was too ashamed to say, a cowardly way, yes, but perhaps the safest way of expressing the deep love he had developed towards her. The love she was too shy, too stupid to express with his own voice.

────────

notes. This is my first time writing for Cregan! I'm still not super sure about how to characterize him, but this has been stuck in my mind since I saw the prompt on the hotd bingo. Personal updates? After two years, I'm still in love with my ex (yay!). This is a bit slppy and rushed but i missed posting and the comfort writing can provide<3. Anyway, take care.

All credits from the idea of Cregan calling you by title instead of name goes to @sylasthegrim’s wip. Thank you sm for the inspo! go support them rn

-Sidey xxxo

#hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd s2 #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of dragons #house of the dragon #hotd fic #hotd spoilers #hotd fanfiction #cregan stark #cregan x reader #hotd cregan #cregan x you #cregan stark x reader

584 notes · View notes

indulgentdaydream · 9 months ago

Text

I added these two together. I hope you guys don’t mind! Since I added them together I’m also making this a two parter. My first one ever!!

Comparisons Pt.1

Jason Todd x Jealous!Insecure!Fem!Reader || Angst/Fluff || Word Count: 2,488

Part 2

Warnings: not proofread as of yet. Maybe will after i post who knows

After a six hour morning shift as a dishwasher, you were ready to head home.

It was the early afternoon, your shift having ended at 12. It was sunny. Warm, but not too hot. You were still in your work clothes, simple black pants and a black t shirt, your tote bag full of belongings over your shoulder. It was nice weather for the half hour walk you had back to your apartment. Better than the weather you’ve faired before.

Jason usually picked you up after your shifts, no matter where he was, as long as he wasn’t on patrol. He never wanted you to be seen in public near the Red Hood. He didn’t want you as a target.

“It’s bad enough I come straight here after patrol some nights.” He had said once.

“I’m just that irresistible, eh?” You had smiled.

He laughed, kissing your shoulder, “Damn right, baby.”

This day, though, you knew he was busy with a certain case he was working on. One he wouldn’t tell you about. He had been hard at work on it for the last few weeks, barely able to make much time for you. You didn’t mind. He tried as much as he could, even if it ended up being a five minute phone call, or a visit in the middle of night in between beaten-up thugs.

The sun hits your face and warms your skin in a comfortable way. Your headphones blocked out the Gotham noise, making the moment more enjoyable. Your favourite music instead of honking horns, sounds of engines, distant sirens, and people yelling.

You were stuck in your own world. You began thinking of asking Jason if he wanted to take you for a ride on his bike later. If he was free. You knew it’d be hard for him to say no. He loved taking you for rides. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know that.

You turn a corner, stuck in your head. Thinking about what you were going to do when you got home. You weren’t used to the morning shift.

You start your walk down the road, passing busy storefronts. Crystal shops. Pet stores. Mostly cafés and diners. You briefly considered working as a dishwasher at one of these places instead so you didn’t have to walk as far.

Maybe you and Jason could go to a diner tonight? That was a hopeful thought. There wouldn’t be time.

You’re walking past the third outdoor seating that takes up most of the sidewalk, small bistro tables hidden from the sun by large, white, beach-style umbrellas. Nearly identical to the two others you had passed, only different colour schemes.

You stare straight ahead, the extended seating narrowing the sidewalk and making it harder for people to walk around. You’re nearly halfway past the café when a hand reaches over breaching the shaded area and entering the sunlight to gently grasp onto your wrist.

You’re already twisting, ready to pull the mace Jason had bought you (though you more-so believe stolen from Batman himself, as you could see where he had scratched out the bat symbol on the canister) out of your tote bag and aim, when your eyes land on the owner of the arm, stretched across the thin barrier separating the seating from the sidewalk.

It’s Jason. His face hidden behind sunglasses, a small frown on his lips as he looks up at you from the shade. He waits for you to slip off your headphones before speaking.

“I was waving to you,” his thumb absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand. “You didn’t see?”

“Sorry,” You smile in relief at him, stepping closer to the barricade so as not to impede the flow of foot traffic. “I was more focused on getting around.”

There was someone sitting across from him. You didn’t think much of it at first. You saw red hair. That was regular with Jason, since he was always hanging around with Roy. Or Kory.

That’s who you thought it was. Roy. Nothing different at all. You turned to greet him, a smile ready on your face.

The second you clocked the pretty face, the waist-long, flowing, shiny red hair, your smile faltered.

Artemis gave you a sincere, friendly smile, her fingers swirling her straw in her cup.

Something churned in your stomach, “Hello.”

Jason’s grip on your wrist tightened slightly once, speaking up, “Why didn’t you call me to pick you up?”

You look back to him, “You said you were busy today.”

He frowns again. Technically, he had never said that. But it was true.

“Sit with us,” Artemis said, pointing behind her. “The entrance is there. We’re almost done anyways. Jason can drive you the rest of the way.”

You nodded, sending the best smile back to Artemis that you could muster in the moment.

As you approached, Jason reached towards the empty table behind him, flipping the chair and placing it at their own table, in between him and Artemis, facing where you had just been standing.

Something in the back of your mind noted how he didn’t even stand to do it, his face still pointed towards Artemis, his eyes concealed by his shades, hiding his expression. You sit down, placing your tote bag on the ground beside on, on your right, between you and Jason.

He picked it up and moved it onto the table without a word.

“This is my girlfriend,” Jason introduces you, his hands back on the table, folded in front of him. “This is Artemis. She’s helping me with my case.”

You nod, your mouth suddenly dry as she smiles at you again, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she smiles again, stretching out plump lips to present straight, shiny teeth.

Jason’s quick goes back to talking with her about whatever they had been talking about before you had walked past, wrapping things up.

You weren’t even capable of listening at this point.

You trusted Jason. You’d always trust Jason. This was for the case and nothing more. You knew that.

Jason had never really spoke about Artemis before. He had mentioned her once, in the early months of your relationship. You had done something. He had later asked you not to, saying he had a bad memory of it from his ex. He had never even mentioned her name. You knew he didn’t like talking about her.

However, you had been out with Jason and Roy at a bar once. Roy had briefly mentioned Jason’s ex, since she was included in the story. Jason had changed the topic fast after that. Then when he’d gotten up to use to washroom, you’d asked Roy to tell you more about her.

“Just what she looks like,” You reasoned. “So I can recognize her if need be.”

Roy hesitated in telling you, but he still did.

You trusted Jason. However, you were losing trust in Roy. He had never mentioned how gorgeous this woman is.

Her skin was smooth. Not a blemish or wrinkle in sight. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help it. Her hair was perfect. Her skin flawless. On further inspection you even realized she wasn’t wearing any makeup.

She wasn’t wearing any makeup and she looked that good?

Artemis lifted her coffee cup to her lips, nodding to something Jason was saying. Nothing you understood, anyways. Even if you were listening. You caught sight of her flexed arm as she finished off the drink. She was strong. Probably worked out nearly as much as Jason, but far more slim than he was. But in a good way.

She smiled again, wide, displaying her pearly whites. You ran a tongue over your own teeth, pursing your lips quietly in thought. Yours weren’t anywhere near that.

Your arms suddenly felt itchy as you looked over Artemis’ again. You looked down. You needed to take your eyes off of her. You were being stupid. Jason had broken up with her. Jason had picked you. He had been dating you for nearly a year and a half.

Your eyes drifted to your own arms, spots of acne along biceps. No definition in sight. Your under eye bags suddenly felt like they were on broadcast. Your face felt gritty, your hand coming up to absentmindedly scratch at the break out you had along your cheek. The frizz of your own hair visible in the corner of your eyes.

You looked back up, looking out at the busy street. Jason had chosen you. Jason loved you. Jason kissed you everyday and always made sure to tell you how much he loved you.

Except in the past few weeks while he had been busy with this case.

Had he been working with her this whole time?

You glanced back down as Jason placed his hand on your knee. He always did this when you guys were out. You look back up at him. He’s leaning on the table with her other arm, straight-faced, nodding along to something Artemis was saying. Even her voice is pretty. Her tone carrying a confidence you were failing to find in the moment.

You looked back down to your own legs, Jason’s thumb moving lightly back and forth over the side of your knee. He didn’t even know he was doing it. He never did.

You looked over to Artemis’ legs, hidden underneath a pair of jeans. Even then you could see how skinny hers were. Could see that her thighs weren’t spilling off the sides of the small metal bistro chair.

Soon enough, she was standing, beginning to say her goodbyes. You swallowed thickly. She was tall too. An amazon, you remember Roy mentioning. How could you forget.

The crop top she was wearing fit her nicely, showing off her toned stomach and even dipping down at the neckline to show some cleavage.

You looked away, your arms folding across your stomach, hiding your own torso.

She smiles at Jason. You quickly look to Jason and find him smiling, too. A genuine smile. One he had yet to give you while you’d been sitting here.

You’re his girlfriend, you remind yourself. He loves you.

She smiles at you and gives her farewell. You can only nod. You watch as she leaves.

God. She was nice, too. Nicer than you had wanted to be to her.

She walks in the direction you had come from. Her hair flowing behind her, an expensive-looking purse hanging from her shoulder. Most men walking past stop to turn and look at her. She ignored them all.

That never happened to you. In fact, Jason had been the first guy to ever even ask you out. You never understood why you were his choice. Not when he was able to pull women like that.

Jason pats your knee and pulls you out of your thoughts, “Want to get anything before we go?”

You can’t even face him. She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. A fucking amazonian warrior.

You stare down at the table, catching sight of your own hands. Your nails worn from your shift at the restaurant, fingertips still wrinkled from the water.

Why the hell would he ever stay with you if she was still in his life?

“No.” You finally answer. “Thank you.”

He nodded, sighing as he fished out his wallet to pay for their coffees. He counts the bills and change, speaking with his head down, “How many times have I told you not to walk around with your headphones on?”

You lift your head to look at him, “What?”

He doesn’t look at you, his eyes still hidden by his shades. “Your headphones. You get so lost in your music you couldn’t even see me waving to get your attention.”

Your fingers curled around the edge of the table, “I was looking past you. I didn’t expect to see you—”

“I was calling your name, too. If your headphones were off then you could’ve heard me.” He tossed a twenty onto the table, leaning forward on his elbows to look at you. “Anyone could sneak up on you.”

You pursed your lips, your brows tightening at him.

Why did she get a smile and not me?

Jason gestured to your bag on the table, “Same with this. The hell you putting it on the floor for? You wouldn’t notice it was taken until far too late—”

“You don’t have to drive me,” you interrupted. “I’ll walk.”

Jason cocked his head slightly, looking genuinely curious, “Why? Car’s right over there—“

“I’ll walk.” You repeated. Firmly.

You needed the walk. You had to try and work the jealousy out of your mind before you got into it with Jason. You didn’t want to argue. Not now. Not in public.

Jason sighed, running a hand over his mouth, “Don’t be like that.” He started to stand, his keys jingling in his hand, “Come on.”

He reached to take your bag for you, a large brown envelope already in his hand. Whatever Artemis had given him.

You reached out and snatched it from his hand. You stood, throwing it over your shoulder. “I’ll walk.”

Jason stared at you for a moment, seemingly frozen in place.

He sighed through his nose, “What’s wrong?”

You took a deep breath trying to control your emotions. This was stupid. Jason had broken up with her for a reason. Had been dating you for the last year and a half for a reason.

Unfortunately, your mouth was working faster than your mind, “Don’t act like you didn’t start this.”

Jason pushed his shoulders back. He tried again, “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, frustrated.

“Fine,” he stuffed his free hand in his pocket. “Just don’t be wearing your headphones while walking around.“

You were tired. Your shift had been long. You were worked up from your mind running all the comparisons between you and Artemis. It was still running them, you suppose, as otherwise you wouldn’t have said, “I guess you wouldn’t have to worry about her all the time. She can handle herself.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his first shown emotion since that smile he’d given her, “Who?” Then they shot up almost just as quickly. “Artemis? Is that was this is about?”

You felt your face heat up in embarrassment at his realization. He’d figured you out.

His shoulders tensed, “Do you really not trust me?”

The way he had said it, his tone, has made it sound like the silliest thing in the world. Now it made you feel even stupider. Of course you trusted him.

You caught people staring in the corner of your vision. You ducked your head back down.

You gripped your tote bag at the straps over your shoulder and stormed off.

You heard Jason call your name as you passed by him again, on the other side of the barrier, headed back to your apartment.

Hope you guys enjoyed!! Pt 2 will be out later this week!!

Update!! Part 2 is here!!!

Part 2

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #dc #red hood #jason todd fic #red hood x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #missy writes #ask missy #jason todd x y/n #dc x y/n #dc x fem!reader #dc x you #dc x reader #dc fic #red hood x fem!reader #red hood fic

1K notes · View notes