#hes so Blond in these goodbye
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also fine. drew jirving
#john irving#lieutenant john irving#did i even spell that right#also i know im so fake bc hes blonde in the book and im book-only but listen#ok goodbye i have to finishcommissions also pls dont look at me im hiding in my terror hole w like five friends that like it
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Stampede aka another episode of luffy turning haters into dick riders just with his kind and big heart
#i might understand all the robin law fanfare... its been 26 minutes of stampede......#frobin reigns supreme imo still.....#VICEADMIRAL MOMONGA TOCAME LA PORONGA??? HELLO#THE LOG POSE TO LAUGH TALE???? and hancock arrived ❤️❤️#usopp saving luffh omg.....#blonde buggy..... why are we doing this to out beautiful women...#fujitora is on his own frequency... here you go a meteorite.. whatever happens to all of you and our troops happens goodbye#mihawk intervened bc zoro couldn't do it omg.... nami keep watch he is going to end it all tonight jesus#also persona following mihaw for a second movie ajdjaks.... i love them together honestly#brosalino is the kuma guy's uncle????? nepotism......#calling this guy the heir of the demon.... taking blame off ace akdjsksn.... you know whats funny in movies garp is very like thoughtful and#comprehensive of others peoples issues and then you get to how he raised luffy and like.... wouldn't that have been good there....#and with ace too lmao.... i mean he didnt have abandonment issues but just wait and see to a 10yo asking if he is worthy of living idk...#i get the meaning of it and what he meant but we all know ace didnt get that at the time until luffy got there#usopp.... see how when oda writes the movies it feels different.... first steong world with namo and now stampede with usopp...#the relationship moments really hit.. i was gonna comment about zoro and the cursed sword but that was just focusing on him#well this one wasnt written by oda but supervised i will take it....#hina taking the kids aldjakskal...... smoker and hina best straight ship behind frobin imo..... baby 5 x sai number 3 spot#sabo....... actually thank you bc smoker thinks he can take anybody#hancock and buggy AJSJAKAKLQQ omg usopp dont cry....... luffy will KILL that guy for making usopp feel like that lmao YEAAAH!!!!!#law smoker sabo the luffy lover squad..... each in their own way lmao#hancock its been so long how are you <3 omg law what are you doing here <3 my brother sabo hello.#crocodile made the plan of course.... luffy lover member too#usopps bullets omg....#sanji and zoro against lucci omg..... YEAAAHHHH#wait a second straw hat crew costume by uniqlo design team??? THE DRIP!!!#luffy seeing ace beside luffy with the fire goodbye.... he is EVERYWHERE#talking tag#watching one piece#watching one piece movies
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No, I'm not simping hard over Sanji, what are you talking about...
#not but for real...#It had to be the blond guy again huh#Every time he's on screen my jaw's just on the floor#Is it the suit or the accent or his character or the looks or the cooking idk#But I'm looking at him like holy shit#His story with Zeff broke my heart! And their goodbye!! 😭#I hope they see each other again someday#(also simping for Zoro but not as badly)#this show is so good how is it only 8 eps so far!!#Shut up Char#And stop simping jfc#EDIT: I stg that I once reblogged a post about Kazuki‚ Loid and Sanji being blond malewives or something#But for the life of me I can't find it#So maybe I dreamt it?#In which case: prophetic?
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When Simon kissed you goodbye and watched you excitedly rush to your friend’s car, he already knew that at some point that evening, he’d get a call from a fairly drunk you. What he didn’t expect though, was for that call to come from inside the police station.
“Simon? Simon, can you hear-,” your drunken giggles interrupted you. “me?” Little did you know that when he heard the typical “This is a call from xy police station. Do you accept the call?”, he had already put on his shoes and collected his car keys, rushing out of the house and to his truck.
“I can hear you love.” Your still joyful demeanor reassured him, but he still worried. “Are you okay? What happened?” In the background, he could hear the voices of you girlfriends, who sounded just as smashed as you. Another one of your giggles sounded through the phone, as you lowered your voice, trying to whisper, but it was pretty obvious that you were still loud enough to be heard. “I think-,” this time it was a hiccup that interrupted you. “-I think I did something bad.” Usually, Simon’s mind would immediately go to worst-case scenario, but you still sounded happy, so he managed to stay calm. Instead of panicking, he started the car and put you on speaker, pulling out of the driveway to make his way to the police station.
“I’ll be there in five, pretty. Can you wait for me?” You sighed happily, and he could almost picture you leaning against the wall and twirling your hair. “Oh Si, I’d wait forever for you.” He chuckled, and signed off with a quick ‘I love you’, before hanging up. Three minutes later, he walked into the brightly lit building and up to the front desk, seeing a familiar cop. As soon as Matt saw Simon, he just chuckled.
“Assumed she was yours. Kept talking about her big, scary boyfriend.” Simon chuckled as he shook his mate's hand. “How bad is it?” Matt shrugged and grabbed some keys leading Simon to the cells. “Just some public disturbance.” Simon nodded. “Charges?” “Nah. Mainly picked them up to keep them from getting into real trouble.”
The moment you saw Simon walking toward you, you squealed and thrust your arms through the bars. “Siiiiiiimooooon!” The blonde could only roll his eyes with a smile as he watched you, impatiently waiting for Matt to open the door, before you rushed into your boyfriend’s arms. He pulled you in tightly, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. After a moment, you glanced up at him, a pout on your lips.
“What’s got you pouting, pretty?” You turned and glared at Matt. “He took my tequila.” Matt raised his hands with a grin, shrugging before waving you two to follow him. “Well, we got more tequila at home.” Again you squealed, overjoyed that your drunken evening wasn’t over just yet, but when Matt turned to look at Simon with a raised eyebrow, the blonde just mouthed back ‘water’. The cop nodded with a grin, handing you a form, which you quickly signed before he handed over your personal items and bid you a good night.
As soon as you left the building, you rushed out ahead, leading to Simon quickly catching up and wrapping an arm tightly around your waist. He stirred you to his truck and quickly buckled you in, before jumping in the driver’s seat and pulling away.
“So…what did you do?” He swatted at your hand as you tried to turn up the volume of the radio. You pouted again, before sitting up straight, raising your hand and grinning at him. “I plead the fifth!” Simon chuckled, glancing at you, before focusing back on the road. “You’re in Britain, love. There ain’t no fifth.” Immediately, you slouched back down, glaring at the road. “Well, that’s bullshit.”
Before you knew it, Simon pulled into the driveway and helped you out of the car before gently leading you inside. You immediately tried to rush to the alcohol cabinet, but before you could, Simon pushed you to the bedroom. “But my tequilaaaa.” He pushed you until you sat down on the bed. “You change into your pjs and I’ll get you some tequila, okay?” You grinned and nodded, and Simon left the room, quickly filling a glass with water. On his way back, he picked up a bucket and some pain meds, planning to leave them on your nightstand.
But when he entered the bedroom again, he found you, half changed, and asleep. Still smiling, he sighed before putting everything down on your side of the bed. As gently as he could, he quickly changed you and wiped off your makeup, making sure you were as comfortable as possible, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Sleep tight, love.”
A/N: Definitely did not write this while listening to "Plead the fifth" by Cooper Alan. I love that song.
#ghost#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#ghost fanfiction#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley fanfiction#ghost simon riley#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you#cod#cod fanfiction#cod x reader
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𖠵 I’M YOURS.

𝝑𝑒 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you visit your husband during his work hours to hand him his lunch which he forgot at home. his subordinates are surprised to see their superior act so gentle with you—a total opposite to how he usually is when finding and punishing outlaws.
tags. wild west sheriff!kento nanami x wife!female reader. fluff, smut. set in the wild west (1860’s - 1890’s). blǒwjob. size difference (reader short), p in v -> unprotected, breeding themes, creampié, semi-public, hair pulling. traditional views of marriage. nicknames: darling, sugar, sweetheart. wc: 6.4k
the southern parts of the county are sweltering under an unrelenting sun, and most of the townsfolk have retreated indoors to escape the heat. kento nanami - the town’s sheriff - is taking a quick break, having just returned from breaking up a violent brawl at the local saloon. damn drunkards, he thinks as he shakes his head. they have been causing havoc all afternoon, threatening to turn the place into a shooting gallery. he had to put them in their place.
kento strolls to a nearby window, silently critiquing the poor job done on the grimy glass. his eyes scan the wagons that roll in and out of town to keep watch for anything out of the ordinary. but before long, his thoughts wander, and he found himself thinking of you. his dearest. his beloved. his world— his wife.
the blonde man wonders what you’re doing right now. are you preparing supper, or perhaps knitting him another one of those scarves in preperation for the colder weather?
one of his hands slips into the pockets of his slacks, fingers brushing against the handkerchief you gifted him. he smiles as he traces the embroidered flowers. their colors are still vibrant despite the constant wear. it has become his lucky charm over the years.
kento sighs as he catches a glimpse of a couple in the distance. they share a kiss, the woman waving her partner off with a handkerchief of her own as her husband leaves on his horse. the sight has his jaw clenching as guilt creeps in. he had left home in such a hurry this morning, that he hasn't kissed you goodbye properly. he hopes that you didn’t take it personally.
it is a small thing, but he makes a mental note to apologise for that later.
kento turns around from the window he’s been staring out at for the past couple minutes as one of the deputies hustles a trussed up outlaw into the office. the other male slams the wooden door shut behind them which rattles the place. the outlaw is a scruffy looking fellow and his wild eyes dart nervously between kento and the shotgun-toting deputy.
the blond sheriff pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. just when he thought he could have a peaceful break... duty calls.
“got ourselves a lil’ troublemaker here, sheriff,” jake says and gives the outlaw a rough shove forward. the man stumbles, nearly falling to his knees before catching himself.
kento’s jaw clenches as he looks the outlaw up and down, his hazel eyes hardening. he aims to keep the peace in this small town, and that means dealing with the dregs of society from time to time. anything to keep the folk safe. especially if it meant protecting his dear wife.
“ye damn pieces of shit,” the outlaw spits, glaring defiantly at the two authoritive figures standing in front of him, “i ain't done nothin’ wrong, ya hear?”
there it is; the cliché line nearly every sentenced outlaw utters whenever they’re caught. kento runs a hand through his hair and scoffs as a muscle in his jaw ticks. one thing he hates are shameless outlaws who claim to have done no wrong.
this man before him has been on countless bounty posters, plastered all over the county. wanted dead or alive, for assault, murder and robbery. bart cavanaugh, the thug’s name is.
kento barks out a harsh laugh, but his face doesn’t show an ounce of emotion. the deputy shifts on his feet. the young man had seen that face on the sheriff countless times before. it’s intimidating and scary, the tension in the room palpable.
“done nothin’ wrong? boy, y’ve been stealin’ and killin’ yer way through half the damn county. and now y' got the audacity to stand there and lie to my face?”
kento steps forward and looms over the outlaw, his broad shoulders squared. his hand drifts to rest on the butt of his holstered revolver. the metal is cool and reassuring against his palm.
“jake, go fetch the preacher. tell him to start diggin' a new grave,” kento orders without taking his piercing eyes off the outlaw. his free hand shoots forward to grab a good handful of the man’s matted hair, yanking it back roughly. the sheriff’s eyes are cold and calculating, “looks like we got us a hangin’ to do ‘fore sundown.”
the outlaw’s eyes widened in fear and he tries to take a step back, but kento’s strength is not to be matched. “but... but you can’t!” he stammers, “i got my rights, i-i'll have ya know that!”
“rights?” kento huffs and releases the thug with a rough shove, dusting his hand off on his blouse as if he touched something filthy. “the only right ye got is the right to wait here and take what's comin’ for ya.”
it did not take long before the outlaw is sentenced, hauled outside and led toward the gallows. kento stretches his arms above his head, feeling the tension slip from his shoulders. another task crossed off the list. he can only hope that the rest of his break will pass quietly without any more disturbances.
the exhausted sheriff drops into the wooden chair behind his desk and leans back with the nth sigh of the day. his fingers fumble with the drawer, and after a moment of rummaging, he pulls out a cigar. he strikes a match and lights it up before placing the stick between his lips. kento closes his eyes and inhales deeply, letting the burn of the tobacco settle his mind.
minutes slip by in silence—just the quiet flicker of the lamp and the rhythmic sound of his own breathing. then, the front door creaks.
kento’s eyes flicker open. a loud prayer sounds in his head; please lord above don't let it be another caught outlaw. not another deputy or bounty hunter with some new problem to throw his way.
however, when he looks up, all the weight on his shoulders vanishes in an instant. there you are - his wife - standing in the doorway like an angel sent to pull him from the depths of his workday hell. the stress, the frustration, all of it fades away in your presence.
kento squints through the haze of cigar smoke as you walk inside with a beaming smile on your face. fuck, you're beautiful. a dream come true.
he takes a long drag and holds it in his lungs before exhaling slowly. the smoke curls around his tired face. his hazel-colored eyes narrow as they rake over your figure. a little provocative, he thinks, not wearing a shawl on your exposed shoulders. especially around these parts of town—with other men lurking that aren’t your husband.
“well, well, if it ain’t my sweet lil' wife,” the blonde rumbles, setting the cigar down in the ashtray. kento leans back in his chair which causes the wooden furniture to creak under his muscular frame. “what brings you ‘round these parts, darlin'?”
it is unusual for you to visit him during work hours. normally, you’d be at the house, attending to your duties. taking care of your cozy home, or perhaps socialising with the other wives around town at one of your regular gatherings. kento didn’t expect to see you here, yet the sight of you is a welcome surprise. even more so when you look so radiant, as if the sunlight itself has wrapped around you.
“ah, you forgot your lunch dear,” you explain with a warm smile. your voice carries a familiar tone that always seems to soothe your husband. you nod politely to his colleagues who’re staring at you in awe and curiosity. you continue, “i started to worry. i can’t possibly have my husband starvin’ at work, now can i? ain't so proper as y’r wife.”
your words make kento’s heart lighten. the smile that has faded from his face the second he left you this morning, finally finds it way back. his entire demeanour softens and his body relaxes.
the two deputies, who have been going about their duties in the background, can’t help but glance over at the scene unfolding. they exchange a bemused look as they watch kento’s demeanor shift the moment you walked into the office. it’s almost comical how quickly the stern, commanding sheriff transforms into a doting and affectionate husband.
kento stands up, his tall, imposing figure towering you as he approaches. the gun belt slung low on his hips clinks softly with each step along with the spurs on his boots. he reaches out, taking the cloth wrapped box from your dainty hands. his calloused fingers brush against your skin, sending a jolt of electricity through him.
“well, much obliged, sugar. yer a real sight for sore eyes,” kento comments, his deep voice lowering to an intimate rumble. he sets the box down on the desk before stepping closer to you. his eyes search for yours while his hands gently rub your sides.
“any time,” you shyly duck your head as you sense the tension between kento and you building up. it’s always like this between you two. the honeymoon phase? for you it’s not a phase, it’s a forever thing. until death do you part.
your hands reach up, slithering from his sides to his chest to straighten his sheriff’s badge. “has work been okay, hun?” you murmur in a honeyed voice, the one that drives kento crazy. neither of you seem to care about his co-workers standing around, lost in your own little bubble.
kento’s hand slides from your side to your throat, fingers skimming over your pulse point, enjoying the rhythm of your heartbeat beneath his touch. “work’s been a pain in the ass, darlin’. same ol’ song and dance,” he replies while his half lidded eyes dart all over your pretty face, “but now that y’re here, it's startin’ to look up.”
your conversation is casual, yet the underlying tension tells you there is more to it. even the deputies become aware of what’s playing in the middle of the office. or more so, what's about to happen if the passion in both kento and his wife’s eyes come to life.
kento can’t help but smirk as you press yourself against him. your soft curves mold to the hard planes of his muscular body, a stark contrast to the gentle hands that hold you close. his eyes darken once he catches you looking up at him through those long lashes of yours. that’s his damn weakness.
“y’know, seein' you here, lookin' like sin in that dress—it’s making me think all sorts of improper thoughts,” he starts in his deep voice. your husband lowers his head to whisper in your ear, “thoughts about bendin’ you over my desk and showin’ ya what happens to naughty little wives who distract their husbands at work.”
a shiver runs down your spine even though this is exactly what you wanted. you came here to deliver kento’s lunch, yes, but you've also missed his attention, affection and most importantly his touch. due to his job, he’s not at home for almost the entire day.
you don’t want to come off as clingy, but when you have a man like kento to call yours, you can’t help but want to be greedy.
the same goes for him as well. kento is ever the devoted lover, head over heels for you, and that includes feeling a great sense of physical attraction to you. he can’t help it—especially when you look so adorable, playing the role of the dutiful wife, visiting him at work to drop off his lunch. it’s a massive turn on.
“l-later. there are others here,” you try to play your erotic interaction off, even as you feel the insistent press of kento's clothed cock against your lower belly. your cheeks heat up as you realise that this bit of proximity had already turned your husband on.
kento licks a stripe up your earlobe, his teeth grazing the flesh before he soothes it with his slick tongue. he knows he shouldn’t be so explicit with you, not here in his office where anyone could walk in. but he simply cannot resist your charms. that pretty body and voice of yours are like a siren’s call to him.
however, he also notices your hesistance because of the company you have. kento, ever the thoughtful man, glances up at the deputies sitting around the office. his gaze hardens and his voice is filled with authority, “don't y’all got better things to do than sittin’ ‘round here?”
it’s a hidden message that all men in the room clearly understood. kento wanted them out and as soon as possible so he can take care of his wife. his duties are put on hold for as long as you need him by your side. he trusts his coworkers to deal with the rest while he’s busy attending to your needs.
the deputies scramble to their feet and grab their stetsons, hurrying out of the office with a chorus of 'yes, sir!' and 'right away, sir!' some smirk knowingly as they make their way out into the muddy streets. they know all too well about kento’s soft spot—the one woman he’d do anything for. even if it means that he ignores his work for a while.
within seconds, the office clears out, leaving kento and you alone. he turns back to you and his eyes instantly roam over your feminine curves. from the swell of your soft breasts to the flare of your hips. oh, his mouth immediately starts to water.
“now, where were we?” the blond man hums. he stalks forward until your back hits the wall with a inaudible thud. you swallow thickly as you look up at kento, who’s staring back at you like you’re a five course meal.
but beneath that passionate gaze is something so intimate. so much more gentle and loving. with every touch, his eyes still search for yours, wordlessly confirming your consent. it’s a habit of his—ever since he took your innocence on your wedding night.
kento’s hands slide down to grab your thighs. he hoists you up and encourages you to wrap your legs around the dip of his waist, holding you between his body and the wall. his eyes flicker downwards to where the skirt of your dress rides up and exposes more of your soft skin to his greedy touch.
“i need you,” your lover breathes against your lips. his mouth is an inch from yours, eager to capture it in a kiss. kento groans the second he feels your clothed cunt press against his throbbing bulge. his fingers dig into the plush flesh of your ass, “shit. i need you now.”
not a second more is wasted as your husband crashes his lips against yours. he presses you back against the wall, moaning into your mouth. this is what he missed the most. your touch, your taste— it makes him feel alive. like all his hard work is worth it.
your fingers curl into his blond locks, tugging at them as your lips move in sync. your tongues roll around each other and your lower bodies move accordingly, grinding for fiction. “are ye sure? right here?” you ask between gasps, voice muffled as his lips interlock with yours repeatedly.
kento pulls away, but not fully. he can’t let you go in any way or form. his head instantly dives into the crook of your neck, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. he immediately latches onto your throat and kisses his way down to your collarbone.
this is exactly what he needs after a hard day. the familiar perfume mixing with the faint scent of your arousal and something so homey—it’s dizzying.
“never been more sure,” your husband groans once he feels your nails gently drag down from his nape to his back, slipping beneath the collar of his blouse. little minx, he thinks, knowing exactly what makes a man weak.
kento tilts his head back so he can look into your eyes. your gaze catches his and you’re taken aback by how handsome he looks. he always does, of course, but this sight just makes you clench around nothing. it leaves you throbbing in your underwear.
the way his neat hair has now turned messy, locks covering his half-lidded eyes, biceps straining against the material of his blouse, sharp jaw clenching with the effort to hold himself back from completely ravaging you. . .
you’re soaked.
kento grins at the way your kiss-swollen lips fall apart in a small ‘o’ as you admire him. he knows he looks good and it boosts his confidence. “keep lookin’ at me like that,” he encourages as his lower body grinds against yours.
you can feel the thick outline of his dick pressing and rubbing against your clothed cunt and it causes you to jerk in place. your moans get swallowed by your husband’s lips once more, his mouth not giving you a moment to breathe as he kisses you more demandingly this time.
kento carries you to his desk, not once separating your lips from his. he sits down on his chair and settles you down on his thick thighs. your arms immediately wrap around his neck to deepen the kiss.
the steamy make out session continues for a while, both of you breathless. you finally pull back for some air and open your eyes to meet your husband’s. the way he’s looking at you, like you’re his entire world, makes you weak in the knees.
“let me take care of ya first,” you suggest in a hoarse whisper against his lips. you feel kento stiffen beneath you, his cock throbbing impatiently in his slacks at the implication.
“go right on ahead,” he bites his lip and watches your wandering hands drag down from his shoulders to his chest. the muscle in his jaw ticks as he tries his best not to intervene—to grab and bend you over his desk already.
kento’s breath catches in his throat as your delicate hands worked at his belt, the leather creaking softly as you undo the buckle. he watches, transfixed, as you tug his pants down.
suddenly, his large hand reaches out to wrap around your smaller one, squeezing it. “wait,” kento hisses and his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. he’s trying so hard not to lose control.
he takes a deep breath after closing his eyes, hips bucking lightly against your warm palm as it rests against the deliciously big bulge in his undergarments. you gently drop to your knees in front of him while giving him some time to regain his composure.
when kento opens his eyes again, he lets out a low growl from the back of his throat at the sight of you looking up at him with those big eyes. so ready, so eager to please your husband. it can make him bust a nut in his underwear.
“go on,” he whispers gruffly, letting go of your hand but not before giving it a quick kiss. that gentleman side of his never fails to make an appearance, even during sinful moments like these.
you nod and smile in excitement. you lick your lips before hooking your fingers beneath the material of the jockstraps. you slowly tug it down and free his aching cock from its confines. the thick length springs up, gently slapping against his lower stomach and leaving a smear of sticky pre-cum on the fabric of his blouse.
kento’s cock was a thing of beauty—long, thick, and girthy, with a bulbous head already glistening with arousal. veins puls along the shaft, and a faint clump of blonde curls dusted the base. the musky scent of his desire fill your nostrils, making your head swim with need.
the pre-cum trickles enticingly from the slit of his tip, a drop slithering down slowly to his heavy balls. it’s evident how much you affect the man and it makes your tummy do a flip.
“mmh— kento. y’re so hard already,” you moan as your pink tongue lolls out to lap up the sticky liquid from the head. you give it a couple small licks to tease your partner, a coy grin playing at your lips.
kento growls, one hand coming down to tangle in your hair at the contact. “fuckk, sugar,” he instinctively thrusts his hips forward, the swollen head of his cock brushing against your soft cheek, leaving pearly drops of pre-cum on your skin. “been thinkin’ about this sweet lil’ mouth all damn day. dreamin’ about them pretty lips wrapped around my dick,” he breathes heavily.
the once composed sheriff is a total mess. he squeezes the base of his dick as he gently taps your cheek with it, trying to coax your lips to part. “c’mon. ye can’t keep this from me any longer,” kento grunts with his brows furrowed.
when you blow some warm air on his tip, he throws his head back at the contact. he’s aching for relief and sitting there teasing him. he could manhandle you to comply, but he’s simply too needy for your touch to do so.
kento gulps before looking down at you. his expression is a mix of frustration, pleasure and neediness. his cheeks are flushed, blonde locks covering his eyes. he breathes out his plea in a shaky tone;
“please.”
your jaw drops at that unexpected moment of vulnerability. it’s thrilling and causes you to immediately give in to his charms. you silently hum in agreement before wrapping your lips around his tip, swallowing inch after inch slowly.
a guttural groan tore from kento’s throat as your hot, eager mouth engulfs his twitching cock. the sensation of your tongue swirling around the sensitive head, lapping up the pre that still leaks steadily from the head, was almost more than he could bear. his fingers tighten in your hair, gripping the strands as he fought the urge to thrust deep into your throat and take his pleasure.
“awh shit,” kento growls. his voice is strained with pleasure at this point, not even able to say things properly. “yer mouth feels so fuckin’ good ‘round my dick.” he watches through heavy-lidded eyes as you take him deeper, his thick length disappearing inch by inch between your plump and kiss-swollen lips. the sight of you, on your knees before him, servicing him with such enthusiasm, sends a surge of pure primal satisfaction through him.
you redouble your efforts and bob your head. up and down, up and down—a hypnotic rhythm that has the man in front of you wrapped around your little finger.
“such a good little wife—yeah, jus’ like that,” kento’s hips rock up to your downward movements, driving his cock deeper into the tight, wet heat of your mouth.
he can feel the wet muscles fluttering around him, could hear the obscene sounds of your gagging and slurping as you struggle to take him all the way. but you didn’t stop, didn’t pull away. instead, you start sucking him with a fervor that has him seeing stars.
kento’s eyes roll back and he’s trying his best not to cum on spot. he wants to last longer, wants to relish the feeling of you pleasuring him and most importantly—he wants to spend his cum well. in a place where it can take root, where it’d serve its intended purpose.
inside you.
but it’s hard. so hard. especially when you’re watching his every reaction, eyes so captivating and alluring as you suck the soul out of him.
“don’t—oh lord,” kento grits his teeth as your hands cup his balls and squeeze them, rolling them in your palm. the dual sensations of your mouth and hands working in tandem had his breath coming in harsh pants, his muscular chest heaving with the force of it.
your husband’s head tilts backwards, the chair creaking beneath him as he grips the armrests with white knuckles. he’s lost in the sensation of you worshipping his dick, your moans vibrating around his shaft as you slurp and suck with abandon. he knows he will not last much longer at this rate, knows he is going to paint your mouth white with his seed any second now.
kento doesn’t really want to, but he also does. he’s conflicted, though it’s already too late. one particular suck and his tip hitting the deepest parts of your throat sends him over the edge.
“ah, fuck! cummin’, sweetheart!” he moans loudly, his eyes squeezed shut as the first spurts of his hot seed flow from his cock. he can’t stop it, even as he tries to pull your head off due to the overstimulation.
when you finally let his dick go with a lewd, wet pop, kento gasps for air, pushing the hairs away from your face. you’re looking so debauched, so lost in the pleasure, it sends his blood rushing southwards. again.
“there ye go. swallow it all down f’ me,” he mutters quietly, voice rough as his thumb swipes away at the cum on the corners of your mouth. he watches your throat work as you drink down the taste of him.
before you can catch your breath, kento hauls you up off the floor and onto his lap, his hands gripping your waist tightly. he feels the renewed throb of his erection pressing insistently against your thigh, already aching for more.
“dammit, darlin’,” he clicks his tongue, his voice rough and ragged with lust. “y’ve got me so fuckin’ worked up— can’t hold back no more.” his callused hands slide down to grab your round ass, kneading the flesh roughly as he grinds your clothed cunt against his wet dick.
kento stands abruptly and sweeps the contents of his desk onto the floor with a crash. papers flutter everywhere as he bends you over the now empty surface, the rough wood digging into your soft skin. he can’t care less about those important documents. not when he has his wife in front of him.
he flips the hem of your dress up, the material pooling around your waist to bare your underwear-clad ass. you’re already so wet, your pussy lips clinging to the soaked fabric of your undergarments, outlining your cunt perfectly. it’s a sight that makes kento weak in the knees.
“look at this sweet lil’ ass,” the blonde man rasps, delivering a sharp smack to one cheek. the sound echoes through the office, followed by your startled yelp. “she’s g’nna be hurtin’ when i’m done with her, i bet.”
you arch your back in response to the slaps against your bottom, “mhh, kento. need you real bad.” your ass rippling with each smack to it, along with your soft voice begging for him, makes your husband dizzy.
with a muttered curse, kento rips your underwear off, the flimsy fabric tearing like tissue paper in his large hands. he tosses the ruined garment aside, leaving you bare and exposed to his ravenous touch. his callused fingers delve between your thighs, finding you dripping wet and ready.
“tsk. would ya look at that,” he groans, plunging two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your tight cunt. “yer fuckin’ soaked. practically beggin’ for my cock like the needy lil’ slut you are.”
you can only moan in response, your hips bucking back against his invading fingers. those nasty words being said by your usual sweet lover makes you crave more. the obscene squelch of your arousal fills the air as he pumps his digits in and out of your fluttering pussy. you can feel every ridge and vein on his fingers as they stretch you open so well, preparing you for his thick cock.
“that’s it, baby,” kento encourages, his thumb finding your clit beneath its hood and rubbing the sensitive nub in rough circles. “get this sweet cunt nice and ready f’ me. am gonna make you feel so good, i promise.”
kento’s fingers pump faster, plunging in and out of your dripping pussy with wild abandon. the wet, sloppy sounds of your arousal fill the room as your slick walls clench greedily around the invading digits. he can feel you getting closer, your body tensing and quivering as he worked you towards a peak.
“cummin’ already? naughty girl,” kento growls, his voice a low, dominant rumble, “can’t have that.”
with a harsh tug, he yanks his fingers from your weeping cunt, leaving you empty and aching. “kennnn,” you whine as your fingernails dig into the wooden desk beneath you. you wiggle your hips back in frustration, needing more.
kento can see your hole clenching around air, trying to draw something back inside. the sight makes him groan, his cock throbbing painfully between his thick thighs. he’s such a weak man when it comes to you.
“i hear ya— i hear ya,” he mutters, giving in quickly to your needy whine. your dear husband can’t tease you when you’re basically begging him to take you. he grips himself in one hand, stroking his shaft as he rubs the swollen head over your dripping slit.
kento slides the engorged tip teasingly along your slick folds to coat himself in your arousal as he aligns your lower bodies. with a single thrust of his hips, he buries himself fully inside you. his heavy balls slap against your ass with a faint, meaty smack.
“fuuuck!” kento cusses and his voice echoes off the office walls as he hilts his dick in your wet pussy. no matter how many times he ruins your cunt, it’s still as tight as the first time. “fuckin’ hell, sugar,” he breathes out shakily.
your silken walls grip him like a vice, the slick muscles fluttering and clenching around his fat dick. he pauses for just a moment to savore the exquisite sensation of being buried inside his wife's perfect little cunt.
however, he cannot hold back for long. gripping your hips hard enough to leave finger-shaped dents on your flesh, he begins to move, his thighs flexing as he sets a relentless rhythm. the obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room as he fucks into you. the ancient desk creaks and shakes with each forceful thrust. it’s a wonder that old thing isn’t breaking.
“tha’s it, take it,” kento snarls. he punctuates each word with a sharp snap of his hips. the feeling of his slick dick slamming into you over and over has him nearly tearing up from pleasure. this is the way to forget about all his earlier problems
“doing so good, honey. yer squeezin’ the life outta me—good girl,” he praises in-between movements. no matter how much he gets lost in the haze of lust, he’s still the sweet nanami kento you know.
his fingers dig into the meat of your ass, kneading and squeezing the soft flesh as he drives into you again and again. you’re overwhelmed by the stretch, the pure pleasure of his dick molding your insides to fit him and him only.
your toes curl as you struggle to lay steady on your tummy. “o-oh, mmh. right there,” your eyes roll back and your body jolts back and forth in sync with his thrusts. your lower tummy and cunt are tingling, needing more stimulation to build up to that mind-blowing orgasm.
“faster, deeper, please— please,” you mewl. you can’t bring yourself to care about the possibility of others hearing you outside the sheriff’s office. let the town folk gossip and whatnot. at the end of the day, you’re the one winning by having a husband like kento.
your lover leans over your arched back, his sweat-slicked chest pressing against your shoulder blades. he kisses the back of your head with a smile playing on his lips, “as you wish.”
one hand slides up your back, tangling in your hair. kento fists it tightly, using it as a handle to yank your head back, forcing your spine into a deeper arch. the new angle lets him drive even deeper into you, his hard cock kissing your cervix with each rough thrust.
kento’s dick plunges inside your cunt with wild abandon and you’re loving it. your sweet noises intensify and you can’t think about anything else but the feeling of you being split open. the tip of his dick touches the deepest parts of you and it’s painful—but the pain is nothing compared to the mind numbing pleasure.
“there we go. gotta get all up in there, aye?” kento pants harshly against the side of your neck, his hot breath fanning over your skin. his other hand reaches around to flick your clit before coming to rest on your lower tummy, “that way i can ensure y’re g’nna end up with a swollen belly.”
the implications of his words make you shudder. you know kento’s always been a family man. always dropping hints of wanting to start a family with you when you’re ready. and he never misses the opportunity to pump you full of his potent cum when you do try for a baby.
“k-ken,” you bite your lip at the thought of it. of succeeding to conceive this time. it’d be because of this lewd moment, in his office out all places. it’s so naughty to the point it’s driving you insane.
kento notices how your body is reacting to his dirty talk and grins to himself. he isn’t clueless—he can feel the way you clench around his dick, as if you’re trying to suck every drop of cum out of his sack. “hm? yer cunt is agreein’ with me, it seems,” he hums.
your lover bites your shoulder as his hips pound against your rear with a strength that’s nearly inhuman. your insides are being turned to mush while you’re drowning in ecstasy.
“yer g’nna make such a good momma,” kento continues to whisper those words in your ears, simply to drive you to the brink of an orgasm. he kisses your earlobe lovingly as his deep voice carries on, “can’t wait to see this beautiful body change to carry my child.”
the dirty talk sure is working. he can feel you tensing, could hear the breathy moans and whimpers spilling from your lips as he brings you closer to the edge. he knows your body—knows every inch of you—and he uses that knowledge drive you utterly mad.
“ah, fuck, ken! honey,” you whine. the contrast between his honeyed voice and rough thrusts that send electric jolts down your spine, is maddening. you can feel the knot tightening in your belly, threatening to snap any second now.
kento’s eyes darken and he grunts in response. the hand that’s been playing with your clit moves to hold onto your hip again for leverage, pounding into you with a passion you’ve never felt before.
“i know,” he mutters gruffly as he watches his cock disappear into your greedy cunt, “i know, sugar. just give yerself t’ me. let go.”
that’s all it really takes. kento feels your body go rigid beneath him as your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave. your walls clamp down around his pistoning cock like a silken vise, fluttering and rippling as you cum hard.
you cry out due to your mind-blowing orgasm. your thighs tremble and your body convulses uncontrollably on the desk—eyes closed as your senses focus on the remaining pleasure.
“fuck, yes— yes yes yes,” kento grunts as your slick fluids gush out around his dick. he can feel the warm, slick heat of your juices splash against his balls and drip down his thighs. the sight of you coming undone on his dick, the sound of your screams of ecstasy filling the room, pushes him over the edge as well.
kento slams into you one final time, burying himself to the hilt in your spasming, sensitive pussy. his cock jerks and throbs inside you as thick ropes of cum erupt from the tip. he can feel each spurt of his load, can count the pulsing jets of cum as he pump you full with it.
“take it—let me breed ya real good,” he pants while grinding his hips against your ass to properly empty himself inside your pulsing cunt. kento shudders as his hips lazily move in small, shallow circles, “get it all nice ‘n deep in there.. yeaaah, good job.”
his grip on your hair tightens for a moment, forcing you to arch you back even more as he slowly rides his orgasm out, his release seeming to go on and on. he senses his hot seed sloshing inside you, can already picture it flooding your fertile womb and taking root.
finally, with a shuddering groan, kento collapses against your back. his large frame easily blankets your smaller one. he notices your body trembling beneath him, could hear the soft whimpers and mewls spilling from you lips as you came down from your high as well. despite that, he stays buried inside you, not wanting to lose a single drop of his cum.
“yer so perfect,” your lover whispers and nuzzles his face into your neck, “the most perfect woman a man could ask for.” that gentleman side of his now makes a full return, as it always does after a particularly rough session. kento takes aftercare quite seriously.
his hands rub your sides and massage your body in places he knows will be sore later on. his lips leave trails of kisses from your neck to your shoulders and back—a testament of his love for you.
after making sure you’re okay, kento eases himself up off your back, his softening dick slipping from your tender folds with a squelch. he looks down to see your combined fluids leaking out from your slit, dripping down your thighs to pool on the rough wood beneath you.
the sight makes him bite back a groan. if it wasn’t for the ounce of self control left inside of him, he’d go for a second round. but he can’t. his coworkers will be back soon anyway.
kento helps you up as well, his hands gripping your waist to steady you as your shaky legs find their footing. “mmh, my lovely wife,” he smiles at you as he cups your face into his hands. he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead and pulls you into a hug, “thank you so much. don’t think i would’ve even survived today if ye didn’t show up.”
you giggle at kento’s dramatics and hug him back tightly, body slowly recovering from the intense passion you two just shared. the fog on the nearby window, the steamy tension and the scent of sex still lingers in the air—something you have to take care of soon before others come to visit.
but for now, you’ll just enjoy the warmth of your husband’s embrace. that’s all what really matters.

#sttoru writes.#jjk smut#jjk x reader#nanami smut#nanami x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#nanami x you#nanami kento smut#kento x reader#jjk fic#jjk fanfic#nanami fic#nanami fanfic
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cw: office au, nanami x loser!reader, semi public, oral, praising, slight emotional dependency? geto version gojo version toji version
nanami is so in love with the little office loser. he doesn’t give you much attention when you first arrive, just another presence in the office. then he starts to, unwillingly, listen to the conversation of others about giving the new clumsy girl a little rough time.
nanami watches from the corner of his eye as you quietly accepts your boss’ request to work overtime, he frowns as your boss implies under many corporate jargons that it’ll be unpaid and you should do it for the team.
“so naive” he murmurs watching you smile.
he can’t help but become infatuated with you when watching your skirt raising when you try to reach a tall shelf in the communal kitchen.
“here” he catches the coffee beans bag for you, without even needing to extend his arm much. nanami arrives so quietly that his voice scares you and you take a step back bumping into his strong body behind you and leaving a tiny squeal out, “sorry, are you okay?” he puts his hand on your shoulder.
“y-yes, thank you” he gives you space and you turn around looking at him over the thick frame of your glasses. it reminds nanami of those ads where a gorgeous woman has a pair of glasses down her nose and the caption says something like ‘single hotties in your area’. he then understands the appeal.
he keeps himself busy most days, so one day as soon as he sends an email he relaxes on his desk rolling his shoulders and looking around just in time to watch you knock a box of staples off your table. he raises from his seat to go help you but he gets a call at the same time so he sits back down to answer it while keeping his eyes on you.
you kneel picking the small items one by one. he likes seeing you on your knees. then you push your chair and crawl under the desk, trying to reach a few staples that went under the cabinet, at this point you’re with your head down on the carpeted floor and your ass up, nanami watches it with lusty eyes, just agreeing and humming to whatever the person on the phone is saying while wondering if you remember you are wearing a skirt. he watches in awe the black semi transparent pantyhose you have on stretch at the back of your thighs and the panties peeking out from underneath it.
when you get up your hair is messy and your face is flushed, you don’t think most of it, just glad to have caught every little staple. meanwhile nanami pulls his chair closer to his desk so you don’t see the volume in his pants when you pass by after basically flashing him.
nanami knows he wouldn’t last long with you around. one night he also stays overtime and you, being the extreme people pleaser you are, bring him some coffee and different sugar packets since you don’t know how he takes his coffee, but even with this simple self-assigned task you still manage to screw up and spill some on his pants immediately apologizing and getting on your knees to clean it with your sleeve. the friction on his upper thigh is making him grow hard but your teary eyes is what pushes him over the edge.
“nanami-san, don’t go home too late” the last person in the office says stepping on the elevator and waving goodbye.
“have a good night” the blond manages to say over the desk divider that hides your figure. finally knowing you two are alone kento throws his head back and allow his muscles to relax and enjoy the warmth of your mouth as you suck him.
“that’s right, sweetheart, good girl” he praises with a guiding hand on the back of your neck. it’s so good to have someone praising you in this place that your eyes water with joy. kento never meant to nut in the office but here he is, watching his cum run down your chin.
you take the small bin under his desk to spit the incriminating evidence of his pleasure so you don’t have to swallow it, “here, let’s make the clean crew think that’s matsuda’s” kento switches the bin with the one under his coworkers desk.
he hates to admit but over time he starts to look forward the times you feel overwhelmed and come to him for affection.
which leads him to the tiny copy room way too many times, making you hold the edge of your skirt and pulling your underwear and tights down to eat you out on top of the copy maker.
“keep quiet, darling” he warns knowing fully well how thin the walls are.
although you have done many unspoken things to him in this office, nanami still flusters you. every time he’s near, your thighs start to shake and your clit throbs untouched.
“come here, i’ll show you” he motions you over his desk when you ask for help with a task. you watch him perform it on the computer screen, “now you try it” he moves his chair a bit to give you space to use his keyboard and as you bend over slightly to replicate his steps he uses the opportunity to feel the skin of the back of your legs since today you don’t have any tights.
“go back, click here” he corrects still touching you, his hand comes higher, laying just under your ass cheeks, “why are you shaking? type the code there” he says like he doesn’t have a hand under your skirt.
“s-sorry” you say when making a mistake.
“it’s okay, start over” he commands, now playing with the hem of your underwear, it’s hard to do what he showed you when you can’t even guide the cursor right.
nanami pushes the material of your underwear into your folds making out the shape of your pussy through it.
“do it again with this file” he points sounding so collected it makes you even more nervous, he rubs your core so lightly, it’s almost like he’s doing it for his own pleasure, like he’s trying to make out the shape of your clit with the tips of his finger only.
“save it, and send to yourself” as you finish the task he starts to pull down your underwear looking around to make sure no one is watching when he helps you step out of the white lacy material, “well done” he bends to pick your panties, giving your leg a quick kiss — since that’s the most he can do in the office during the day—, and putting the soaked fabric in his pocket.
“thank you” you smile and slowly make your way back to your desk, though your boss calls you middle way about a mistake you made on a file and to come to his office, now you wonder how you’re supposed to make it through the day not only without underwear but also dripping wet.
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Cuffing Szn ♥️
Max Verstappen x MidSize!Reader



it's cuffing season and all the girls are leaving to get a big boy (I need a big boy, give me a big boy)
As Max Verstappen's new girlfriend, you're one of the few WAGs on the grid who isn't a model and the only one, you think self consciously, who doesn't look like a model either. Good thing your big, strong boyfriend is here to set the record straight about how much he disagrees with you.
Content includes: 18+ MDNI, trigger warning: explicit discussion about eating disorder and body dysmorphia, dom!max, sub!reader, size kink, this is just a shameless excuse for me to write smut about max's thighs, 3.3k WC
When you'd delivered one of your favourite patient's 3rd baby, handing over the healthy, crying pale blob (after thoroughly wiping it down because, you know) with a congratulations, Victoria, its a boy! you hadn't expected to catch the eye of the patient's very attractive, tall older brother at her side.
But as you walked off down the hallway once the baby checks were done, you were surprised to find Max stopping you with a large but gentle hand on your shoulder. You'd seen him a couple of times in Victoria's pregnancy, accompanying her and her husband at the ultrasound checks leading upto the delivery. You'd secretly thought he was so adorable with the way he handled his nieces and nephews patiently while his sister got scanned.
You'd also thought he looked positively delectable in his white linen shirt that highlighted his broad shoulders, and skinny jeans that clung to some of the thickest thighs you'd seen a man be blessed with. But making bedroom eyes at patient's hot family members was generally frowned upon (although not explicitly prohibited in the Hippocratic Oath, one could argue) so you promptly forgot about the handsome blonde 5 minutes later when the emergency bell went off.
But he stood before you that day, looking every bit as attractive as you remembered, even more so with a pink dusting on his cheeks as he asked if this was the last time you'd be looking after Victoria?
You tilted your head quizzically at him, your neck a little strained from looking up at his 6 foot frame from your 5"1 one. Yes it is, you informed him, and because new families often got anxious, you sweetly added that it was a good thing, to not see you again, because it meant darling Victoria and her baby are both healthy.
He confuses you again by saying that he was hoping to see you again. Oh! You smile excitedly, are you and your wife expecting? You pull out your clinic card and tell him that you're actually all booked out for the year but you'll make an exception for Victoria's brother.
His blush deepens. (Somewhere in a hospital broom cupboard, Lando Norris was filming this scene unfold and cackling.) Max rapidly explained that he's not expecting. Oh, and he's not married. And also he doesn't have a girlfriend. Basically, I'm single - he finally stammers out. (Rizzless and bitchless, Lando texts him). Thankfully, at this point you had caught on that Max was trying to ask you out, and after a quick phone call to the legal team to confirm you were clear, you turn back around to inform him cheekily that he could pick you up at 8pm Friday night for dinner. (Wait, this actually worked? a flabbergasted Lando now texts.) The emergency pager then goes off so you gently tug on Max's shirt to hint that you want him to bring his face down, give him a goodbye kiss on the cheek, and sprint off to Ward 6.
The dinner goes perfectly, with Max's charm returning in full force after a G&T - Sorry about earlier, schat, you're such a gorgeous woman and a very smart doctor, it makes me nervous - leading to a 2nd date and then a 3rd and then to a weekend trip in a romantic Nice winery, where you can't resist jumping into his muscly arms after a glass of wine and demanding he have his way with you. (He does. Very thoroughly. Multiple times that night, and the morning after. Thinking about it still has you blushing.)
6 months later, you two are officially going out and you're making your first appearance as his girlfriend at the races. You had carefully dressed in a classy Mirror Palais dress, complete with matching heels to save your poor boyfriend having to bend down too much. You'd also become rather turned on at seeing your normally soft, gentle cat dad of a boyfriend turn into an absolute menace once the Redbull suit is zipped up, terrorising his way all the way to P1 and living up to his nickname of the Dutch lion. As his assistant guides you to the podium ceremony, you're stopped by various fans who compliment your outfit and ask for pictures. The media attention is very new to you, as Max had been very insistent on protecting your privacy as you two established yourselves as a couple. But everyone had been so nice today - until you started noticing the dirty looks thrown your way, glaring up and down your form. And then, a couple of snide comments from passing fans about how you were very confident to wear such a body hugging dress, especially with your curvy figure.
You roll your eyes at their clearly jealous tones, and walk over to the podium ceremony to greet your boyfriend. He breaks into an adorable grin when he sees you, his whole face lighting up as he easily scoops you up for a deep kiss. The cameras around you two go crazy, but don't pick up his whispers when he sets you down and leans in, telling you that you looked so pretty today, schat, he'd been staring at you so much GP had to tell him to focus, and how was your first race? nobody gave you a hard time, did they? You don't miss the way his eyes are attentively focused on your face, clearly still worried about the damage he had warned you about before you agreed to go public.
You aren't going to spoil his win over a couple of snide comments. Not at all, baby you reassure, before whispering back that he looked really hot in his tight fireproofs, could he pretty please bring them home later when you give him his reward for such a good performance on the track? The tip of Max's ears go pink as he struggles to maintain a straight face for the cameras. Giggling, you press a kiss to his cheek and murmur you'll see him after his interviews.
Later though, when Max is in his interview across the paddock and you're being introduced to the other WAGs, you can't help but notice how different they all look in their body hugging dresses compared to you. Although you wouldn't be called fat, you aren't slim either, and you're nowhere near the tiny, trim figures the other girls maintain. Once the seed of insecurity is planted, it's very hard to stop it growing out of control - and at each race or public event or launch party you attend at Max's side, you start to pick apart more and more insecurities about yourself. How you're so much shorter than the numerous models on the grid, making you feel childish and round compared to their lithe gracefulness. How their delicate collarbones and ribs can clearly be seen at all times, but yours only if you twisted your neck a certain way. And they're all so lovely, chatting eagerly with you and interested to hear about your work, asking if you'd take so-and-so on as a patient, you had a great reputation already even though you were a new doctor in Monaco! The conversations distract you from your worries for a bit.
But afterwards, when you'd be laughing at cat memes online and sending them to your boyfriend, you'd come across the paparazzi pics of you speaking to the WAGs and felt sick to your stomach at how huge you thought you looked compared to everyone else, clearly standing out as the plainest one amongst their flawless faces. Some of the comments agreed, saying that it was just sad that the best driver on the grid had the ugliest girlfriend, and couldn't Max buy his gf some ozempic with all his tax evasion money? Comments that would have made you laugh at the originality now suddenly had you sobbing, and you're glad you hadn't stayed at Max's tonight and had to explain the state you were in.
When you'd been younger, in college, you'd started struggling with managing your stress levels given you were a perfectionist working towards a very difficult medical degree. Having always been a stress eater, you frequently binged on junk food, and obviously ended up gaining quite a bit of weight. Your family and ex boyfriend had ridiculed you endlessly, and so the year after you had to work hard and lose it all, which you had managed to do. You'd mentioned this to Max in passing, a couple months into dating when he'd spotted an old college picture of you and muttered so fucking cute, pocketing it.
You didn't tell Max about how you'd lost the weight though - with a vicious binging and purging cycle for the better chunk of a year. You'd grown out of that "phase" once you'd left college, or so you thought - because it was almost too easy to slip back into it now, to enjoy the sick pleasure at barely eating all day and seeing the weight drop on the scale, then bingeing on whatever you wanted because it didn't count, you'd throw it up anyways. You had to be very careful with it this time round, because your boyfriend's attentive gaze had been fixed on you even more so than usual - noting how you've been wearing higher heels, how your dresses are still as gorgeous as ever but never body hugging anymore, how you spend hours before a race now perfecting your makeup instead of joining him in the garage and don't spend the nights at his anymore. You weasel your way out of his questions when he asks you repeatedly if everything was okay, schat?
But you weren't able to fool him any longer after attending a charity gala for one of his sponsors. You'd actually been happy with your appearance for once, pleased with your slimmer waist this month, but as the night went on you started to feel the fatigue of starving yourself catching up, leaning more and more into Max's side as he glanced at you with concern. Rubbing your back soothingly, he asked if you wanted to leave early, but you shook your head, murmuring you were okay, your feet just hurt a little is all. He frowned then, hating to see you in pain just to be dressed up for some stupid event he couldn't care less about. Bringing you to the empty lobby, he told you he was going to grab your coats and have the car brought round, end of discussion, you need to rest, okay liefje? You didn't have it in you to protest any longer so just nodded. You hadn't realised just how much you'd been leaning on him until he left, and as stars started entering your vision, Max returned just in time to catch you before you stumbled.
You felt him firmly grab your waist, fully supporting your weight as he led you out to the car, lowering you gently into the seat and even buckling you in. You started feeling a bit better inside his Aston Martin with the aircon on, nibbling on a high protein low calorie bar you'd stashed in your clutch. Regaining your alertness, you notice the tense atmosphere, with a stormy expression on Max's face as he drove rather furiously through the Monaco streets, his hand not even resting on your thigh like it usually did but gripping the wheel tightly. Maxie - you begin uncertainly, hoping to diffuse the tension and ask why he was upset, but he cuts you off with a terse Don't. Let's wait till we're home.
So you wait, until you're both walking in through the front door. Max rips off his suit jacket, rolling up his sleeves, but he still doesn't talk and instead heads to the kitchen. You follow him, sitting on a barstool to admire how he still looked so handsome in the fitted sky blue shirt and tight navy pants, even when he was clearly mad. As Max starts cooking, his back to you, he tells you about how growing up his sister Victoria had to go to therapy for a long time because she wouldn't stop throwing up every time she ate because their father told her she was too fat (despite looking like a buffalo himself, Max snorts as he sets down a simple but delicious plate of chicken pesto pasta with salad in front of you), about how Max has seen countless girlfriends on the paddock purposely avoid eating all day, including his already stick thin model exes, and how Max himself would be called fat every month or the other by some trashy gossip magazine, because the media is just fucking toxic, he hisses. This is why I wanted to keep us hidden away from the cameras. He glances pointedly at your plate, where you've eaten the salad and chicken and not touched your pasta. You sigh and pick up your fork, slowly working your way through the food as you tell him that you suppose your diet had somewhat...spiralled out of control, but honestly, Max, I'm completely fine, and you two can't avoid the cameras forever given how he's the frickin F1 winner at all-
Don't tell me that you're fine. Do you really think I don't know what's going on? Max demands tersely with crossed arms. Finally finished with your meal, you hop off the stool to neatly place your plate in the sink, ignoring his question. Standing behind you, he watches you wash the dishes, still not even reaching his chin, even in those damn 6 inch heels you're still wearing. You do respond when he asks you just why you're putting your body through such torture.
C'mon, Max you say with an eyeroll, You know why, I need to lose some weight, I'm so much heavier compared to all the other girls and all your exes, and you deserve to have a girlfriend who looks-
Don't tell me what I do or don't deserve, schat. I always want the best and that's why I picked you. You're really gonna question the choice of a world champion, hmm? Max's deep voice is now right by your ears as he leans down behind you. You feel a shiver run up the back on your spine as he curls his huge arms possessively around your waist and thighs. He continues his whispers, his hands roaming up to your plush tits and another squeezing your ass, telling you You're so goddamn pretty. Every single part of you, just for me, making you bite your lip and breathily moan from his affections - it'd been a while since he'd had his way with you with all your avoidance, after all.
You feel him slowly unzip your dress, and the silk easily falls to the ground, leaving you only in your stiletto heels and a deep red lingerie set he’d gifted you for your 3 month anniversary. You tense, already feeling self conscious, but before you can say anything Max has wrapped a large hand around your waist and easily flipped you around to sit on the kitchen counter. You gasp from the action, hands automatically going to rest on his broad shoulders as your face comes level with his.
I haven’t made it clear just how lucky I am to have such a beautiful girl all to myself, schat, Max says huskily, before pulling away to unbutton his shirt, his blue eyes darkening as they roam over your pretty tits spilling over in the lacey bra, over your cute plush tummy, and over those deliciously soft thighs he adores. His hungry stare is really starting to drive you wild now, and you beg at him to hurry up and finish undressing. Chuckling, he throws his pants to the side as well, now only wearing his tight boxers. He pulls you forward on the counter so you're flush against him. See what you do to me, sweet girl? Hmm? he grinds the very prominent bulge in his boxers against your own damp core, making you gasp. You get me so hard and you haven't even touched me yet, that's the kind of power you have over me.
At his words, you don’t hold back from running your hand all along Max’s well defined chest. Your boyfriend is so much bigger than you and it's incredibly sexy. He towers over you easily with his 6 foot frame, all wide shoulders and swollen biceps and muscled thighs, and you don't hide the hypnotised look in your eyes as you trace from his thick neck down to his slutty waist, desire and desperation coursing through you, replacing any inhibitions you'd had earlier.
He grasps one of your wandering hands in his own, his larger palm easily dwarfing your tiny one and making you bite your lip at the difference in size. His attentive gaze doesn't miss this either, and with a low hmm he brazenly asks if you found it as hot as he did, the fact that you were the perfect size for him to snap into half if he wanted? He knows he's got you right where he wants as your pupils go wide with desire, breath hitching at the thought of your big boyfriend using his strength against you for once.
Then he's pulling apart your pretty little set, lace ripping and a large hand easily wraps around your entire throat, pulling you into a breathless kiss that has you moaning at his skilled tongue. You barely have time to collect yourself when he suddenly lifts you up by the waist, biceps flexing, and your eyes widen as you're lifted impossibly high in the air and find yourself straddling his thick shoulders, his face now at the perfect height to bury his tongue into your dripping pussy right in front of him. Max! you squeal, utterly ruined by his impressive display of strength. You're desperately scrambling for purchase at the cabinets behind you, head banging back against the wall as he relentlessly thrusts his wicked tongue into your puffy folds.
And he only sets you down after you cum obediently all over greedy lips like he demands you to do, then gently carries your shaky form to the bedroom to show you multiple more examples of how you were just made to take him, truly the perfect girl for him, weren't you? You'd been too blissfully fucked out by that point to form a coherent response.
Needless to say, you find yourself caring very little next time strangers had anything to say about the way you looked, thanks to Max's hands on affections (he'd also taken you to therapy like the supportive boyfriend he was, bless him.) He'd quickly formed a personal favourite method to prove to you just how desperate he was for you and how you had the world champion in the palm of your hand, whenever he saw that look flicker into your eyes from time to time. He'd take you back home, make you undress yourself for his hungry gaze, then lift you up into his arms, folding your thighs up against your waist from where he held them. You’d moan as he slid into you, bouncing your whole body onto his hard cock like you were a ragdoll, making you scream his name endlessly as he fucked you mid-air.
And sometimes, when he was feeling particularly possessive, he'd flip you around, pressing your back to his toned chest, as he made you watch with him in the mirror how he obscenely slid in and out of your dripping pussy. Whispering in your ear that see, like he had told you, he had such good taste, don't I, schat? And as you met his heated gaze through the reflective surface, clenching around him when you saw the pure love and raw desire in his eyes, you couldn't help but agree.
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A/N: guys can you guess I have a thing for boys who are big. Big boys, if you will. Someone just let me sit on Max’s lap goddamn 💸💸 as always lmk what you think and if u have any requests!!
#tw eating issues#tw ed disorder#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#max verstappen smut#max verstappen x you#f1 smut#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula 1#f1 x reader#chubby!reader#midsize!reader#plus size!reader
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the epitome of a gentleman. as you stared at the blonde man in front of you, carrying someone's grandma's groceries. you were in awe.
"you've got a good man woman," the grandma who was holding onto your hand smiled. "reminds me of my own, he's at home right now."
"oh, is he sick?" you asked, as the grandma laughed.
"no, we're very healthy! it's just i wanted to do something special for him, i mean, after 50 years of marriage, he's done so much for me," she reminisced her younger days.
"actually, your husband looks like the younger version of mine, you too, i used to look like you! before the age manifested on my face," the grandma started searching inside her purse, finally pulling out a photo of young her. "see."
as you stared at the photo, it was her and her husband holding hands, she was beaming with a smile, while her husband's lips only showed a slight curve. and she was right. from the hairstyle, to the eyes, to the lips, almost everything was identical. "ken, you've got to see this!"
"why love?" he stopped in his tracks, turning around to head back to you. "what's got you both smiling?" he peaks over, seeing the photo you were holding in your hands. "i don't remember taking a photo like that."
"it's not us silly. it's her and her husband!" you lightly hit as his chest, as you and the grandma both burst into laughter.
"scary," kento's mouth forming a slight 'o' as he stared at the picture.
"anyways, my house is right up ahead, i don't want to take up more of your time!" the grandma tried taking the grocery bags from kento, earning a stern no.
"no, we're happy to help you out. we'll bring it to your house."
as you finally reached the grandma's house, she took the grocery bags inside, shouting a 'thank you' and a 'wait a moment'. she came out with a batch of freshly baked cookies, her husband slowly following her.
"take some! my treat for all the help," she nudged the pan closer, you took one cookie as your husband took another. you looked at each other, telepathically counting before you both took a bite at the same time. it was the best cookie you've ever tasted, it was like home.
"this is so good!" you stared at the grandma with heart eyes, as you could see a slight shade of red slowly creeping up to her cheeks.
"she's the best baker ever," you heard a low voice, coming from her husband. he walked over to put a hand over her shoulder, "please come over for dinner sometime, as a way of thanks for helping my dear wife."
you immediately nodded, as you exchanged numbers and goodbyes. kento's arm slowly snaked around your shoulder as you walked away from the house. he pushed your body closer to him, making sure you were touching each other.
"they remind me of us ken," you muttered.
"yea...they do. i guess in every lifetime, i'd always choose you."
#fumiliardrabbles#min...drabbles#min...writes#fumiliarwrites#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#kento nanami#nanami x reader#jjk nanami#kento x reader#nanami fluff#nanami x y/n#jjk headcanons#nanami x you#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami headcanons#jujutsu nanami#nanami kento#kento x y/n#kento x you#jujutsu kento#jjk kento#kento fluff
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give me a reason.
LN x fem!reader



in which… ‘the one where’ lando needs to get his shit together, or lose the love of his life…
hi! it’s me! back again with angst, fluff and filth! i needed to get this the hell away from me bc i worked on it so long that it kinda stopped making sense so i fear this isn’t my best work oopsie! anyways, thanks for being the best bunch ever and pleaseeeeeee let me know what you think - likes, comments and reblogs are so appreciated and make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside soooo you know what to do…
songs to set the vibes: hoax by t swizzle, no i’m not in love by tate mcrae, come over by noah kahan
warnings: 18+!! minors BEGONE! smut, angst!! but also fluff sooo..! friends to something worse to lovers, lando needs to be shot ngl, lando is so messy, max is yet again a victim, r loves wine a lot, alcohol use, swearing, lando has a bitchy gf (we hate her!) for a bit, r is just a girl, p in v, general sex acts, unprotected sex (sigh)
8.2k words
you’re perched at the edge of the booth watching. pietra plies you with drinks, knowing full well that it’s the only way you’re gonna make it through the evening. max sits beside her, an arm wrapped loosely around her shoulder as he glares at his best friend at the bar.
“he’s such an idiot.” max sighs, polishing off the rest of his drink in one. he knows he’s about to have his ear talked off about lando’s latest fling.
“such an idiot.” p scowls. you just laugh, reach for another shot of vodka.
“what do you guys expect?” you sneer, faking a smile as the bitter liquid warms your belly.
“you guys are meant to be together.” max states. p nods quickly, but pauses.
“not sure if he even deserves you though, baby.” she coos, squeezing your arm softly. you thank her with watery, bleary eyes.
lando’s on his way back over now, the pretty blonde he’d been chatting up for the last ten minutes tucked under his arm. that shuts you all up, but the cold air blasting out of the dimly lit booth could give lando and his mystery woman fatal hypothermia.
“guys, this is casey.” lando grins toothily, ushering you to move around in the booth so they can sit with you. you end up sat between pietra and casey, smushed uncomfortably into the sticky pleather. lando makes the introductions.
“my best friend max, his girlfriend pietra, and,” he clears his throat when his eyes fall on you. “and, um, my other friend.”
my other friend.
you didn’t think he could reach a new low.
“wow.” you hiccup, wriggling closer to pietra.
“i thought she was your best friend.” pietra narrows her eyes at lando, keeps her voice light and teasing.
casey is beautifully oblivious, sky blue eyes remaining firm on the racing driver at her side. you want to throttle them both.
“course. yeah.” he laughs it off awkwardly, before placing all of his attention on his latest conquest. it sounds harsh, sure it does, but you know lando and you know how he operates.
“i’m going. thank you,” you say directly and loudly to max and p, who are shuffling from the seats so you can get out of this prison of couples that you’d been so cruelly trapped in. “for a nice evening.”
you don’t bother to say goodbye to lando.
-
you spend the next morning crying into a cup of coffee, wrapped in three different blankets. deeply, devastatingly hungover.
you spend the afternoon that follows on the phone with max.
“it’ll be over in days, hun, don’t even worry about it. he’s probably trying to get her out of his place right now and can’t even remember her name.” max reassures, and while history would suggest him to be right, something inside of you twists with dread. “i don’t know what he’s playing at.”
“you told me that he… you said he liked me, max.” you groan, hot with embarrassment.
“he did! he does! he thinks you aren’t interested so- “
“i don’t wanna hear it max. i went to abu dhabi, flew in just to surprise him, to finally fucking tell him, and… well you know what happened.”
you’d walked into his hotel room and found him balls deep inside someone else.
needless to say, you weren’t convinced that he was as hopelessly, pathetically in love with you as max claimed him to be; as hopelessly, pathetically in love with you as you were with him.
“i know, i know, but he was hurting. doesn’t excuse the, uh, emotional warfare, but he doesn’t know how you feel.”
“well, at this rate, max, he never will.”
-
you’re stupid for being excited for the group dinner you’ve planned. everyone’s coming, max and p, martin, some of the boys and some of your girls. and lando. you haven’t seen him for a week, not since caseygate, and if you’re being earnest, you don’t really want to. at least he’ll be alone, you think. he doesn’t bring his hookups to group plans.
you think, and god laughs.
he’s the last to arrive, the same blonde with the same striking blue eyes tucked under the same stupid arm. you sink your glass of wine before they even get to the table, leg bouncing frantically against the chair. you swear you see pietras lips recoil into a snarl.
“did you know he was bringing her?” she hisses quietly to max, looking at you cautiously.
“obviously not!” max defends, nostrils flaring.
“sorry we’re late.” you hear from the head of the table. “everyone, this is casey.”
-
half an hour later, after having the magical story of their blossoming relationship shoved down your throat, you escape to the bathroom.
you’re fixing your lipgloss when the door swings open. in casey walks, complete with a hair flick and a tacky, expensive handbag.
“oh, i didn’t even realise you were here tonight.” she speaks, sickeningly false. “i thought i’d notice such a good friend of lando’s.”
you suck in a breath.
“i wouldn’t get too used to little old me.” you shrug, meeting her condescending grin with a better, badder one. “or lando, quite frankly. he’ll get bored soon.”
you leave her in the dust, only letting yourself shake with rage when you know she can’t see you. you bypass the table completely, shoot p a quick text that says you’re going home, and wait for the maître d' to hand you your coat. you wait outside the restaurant for your uber, glance back to see if anyone had even noticed you’d gone. by anyone, you mean one person, and one person only.
lando’s looking around the table, something vacant in his eyes. it’s perhaps the first time you’ve properly looked at him all night. there’s something withered and haunted in his eyes, even from so far away you can see it. he seems to be searching for something, something that he can’t place. someone.
you see that same tired face in your dreams that night, joined by a pretentious, condescending smile, taunting you while you toss and turn.
-
casey becomes such a constant that you’re shocked that lando eventually comes to a party without her. it’s pietra’s birthday, and max is throwing her a party at their apartment.
you’re there early to help max set up when lando walks in, better rested than the last time you’d seen him. he’s wearing a loose white button up and light wash jeans that sit just right, curls a crown atop his head.
“no casey?” max asks subtlety as him and lando hug. you make no move to greet him.
“nah, she had other plans.” he scratches his nose as he says it, and you know it’s a lie. it’s been his tell as long as you’ve known him.
max stares awkwardly between you both, gesturing his head wildly towards you when he knows you’re not looking. lando shrugs, frantic silent conversation transpiring between them until you turn around.
“fuck, forgot candles. silly me! be back in ten.” max doesn’t give you a chance to breathe before he’s darting out the door, jacket slung over his arm. you glare as he disappears out the door.
“you gonna talk to me?” lando questions, hands shoved deep in his pockets. he tries to sound light, nonchalant but it just comes off standoffish, an awkward reminder of just how much distance there is between you now, and how much there has been since he made it his personal mission to sleep with every woman he laid eyes on. except you.
“depends.” you reply flatly.
“on?” you can hear his footsteps against the hardwood floor, inching closer and closer. your hands shake as you untangle the balloons, pouring them out of the packet onto the table. you feel the heat of him before you see him, closing in on you. it’s been so long since you’ve been this close to him that you can anticipate each movement before he even makes it, your senses ultra heightened.
your breath shakes.
“on?” he presses, aware of just how stubborn you can be. “what’s going on with you?”
“nothing, lando. tired, busy, the usual. nothing crazy.” you attempt to shrug him off, but apparently he’s not done with you.
“then why can’t you look at me? did i do something?” he chokes out a laugh, a revelation of how uncomfortable he is.
you brave the sight of him, turning slowly until you’re face to face. he looks beautiful, freshly shaved, curls tamed back but not enough to stop them from hanging over his forehead to frame his face. just the way you like them.
“see? nothing wrong.” you smile tightly, wondering if he can see the effort it takes to make your face move for him, if he can see the tension coursing through your veins like electricity. he seems to scan your face, taking his time, before he sighs, hums like he’s finally satisfied.
“so you’ve been busy?” lando asks, trying to revert to your status quo, but you can’t bare the agony of pretending. “hardly seen you since, uh, abu dhabi.”
“yep.” you quip, disappear into the kitchen just as you hear max’s keys in the front door.
-
a few hours later everyone’s had too much to drink, and the party is in full swing. lando’s persisted more than you thought he’d bother to, and you’ve managed to exchange sentences made up of more than three words apiece. you’ve left your circle to get a drink, about to slip into the kitchen, but hushed whispers stop you from entering.
your blood runs cold when you realise that one set of frantic whispers belong to lando, the other to max. you feel that you should leave, come back when it’s all clear but something tugs on your heartstrings and ties you to the threshold of the room. maybe it’s the possibility for closure, or worse, hope.
“mate you called me basically crying, telling me how in love with her you are, and when she gets there, you’re fucking someone else! what the fuck do you want from her, man?” max spits.
“how the fuck was i supposed to know she was gonna show up?” lando retorts, an edge of desperation in his voice.
“the real question is: why would you sleep with someone if you feel that way about her? why are you fucking around? why are you with casey?”
“because i was hurt, max! she’s been going on all these dates, talking about guys she’s seeing and, what, i’m supposed to put my life on hold waiting for her to love me back? i can’t do it anymore. i can’t.” lando’s voice cracks at the end and you lean into the wall, unable to feel your legs.
“you could have told her, you idiot.” max is having none of the pity party, it seems, finally ready to knock some sense into your mutual best friend.
“and ruin everything? she clearly didn’t want to be with me.” lando argues. max sighs.
“if you actually think that, then you’re a lost cause, mate.” you hear what you assume is. sympathetic slap on the back.
“i’m doing fine with casey, i’m finally getting somewhere. jesus, i haven’t even slept with her yet.” lando whines. your heart stops on the other side of the door.
“so, it’s serious then? you and casey?” max asks, skeptical.
“it could be.” lando admits.
you put yourself out of your misery, loudly opening the door to the kitchen. you act aloof, surprised to see them, but the crease in your forehead is all max needs to see. he knows you heard at least some of it. fifteen years of friendship with him means he can read you like a book. fifteen years of friendship with lando has done nothing but break your heart.
“sorry, guys, didn’t know you were in here.” you feign nonchalance. “just need a drink.” you slide past lando, watching the way his back ripples with tension at the slight brush of your body against his. you let out a deflated breath, wrapping your hand around a cold can of god knows what. all you know is you need a drink, and you need to get out of this fucking kitchen.
you find pietra on the makeshift dance floor, join her and your friends to spin and twirl and forget about the man who’s stood in the corner doing nothing but watch you.
-
a week passes. lando’s wine drunk. you’re laying across one of his sofas, sharing with him, and max and p sit on the other sofa. you’re all giggling about nothing in particular, latest gossip, old anecdotes, random shit that no one’s sober enough to not laugh at. it feels like balance is being slowly restored, like the good old days before it all went sour.
“still can’t believe you did a whole lap of the ski lodge naked.” you tease lando, smirking at him from your end of the sofa. you nudge his thigh with your foot, and he grabs your ankle, thumbing over the sensitive skin.
“a dare is a dare.” he replies, grinning back at you, his gaze lingering even when max interjects.
“again, mate, no one fucking dared you to do that.” max shouts, and you all descend into laughter again.
“i did not need to see some of the things i saw that night.” p grimaces playfully, and you can’t help but flush at the memory of lando’s bare ass disappearing into the snow.
“agreed.” you say, drawing lando’s eyes back onto you.
“you know you loved it.” he raises an eyebrow at you, and you stare bashfully into the wine glass in your hand. you feel his hand squeeze, nails ghosting above your ankle, making you shiver.
“got an early morning tomorrow, fuck.” max groans. “better get going.”
you hug him and p goodbye, graciously offering to help lando tidy up a little as the couple leaves the driver’s london apartment for their own.
you’re carrying empty glasses into the kitchen when you spot it, and it stops you dead in your tracks. the same handbag that casey had carried into that bathroom all those weeks ago. your skin tingles, a phantom touch making you burn.
“so you and, uh, casey are getting serious, huh?” you mumble, finally making it into the open plan kitchen.
lando stands on the opposite side of the marble counter, a tea towel slung over his shoulder, disgustingly domestic.
for her, though. never for you.
“not sure.” he responds flippantly.
“must be, can’t remember the last time you kept a girl around this long.” your attempt at a joke falls flat, even though he’s still tipsy, flushed with alcohol.
“s’that supposed to mean?” lando asks, boyish and defensive.
“nothing, just… you haven’t really seemed in a relationship-y place.” you remark, trying to appear casual as you place the glasses on the countertop.
“i wasn’t but i realised i needed to get my shit together. haven’t even-“ he starts, but cuts himself off abruptly.
“haven’t what?” you press, finding a cloth to wipe the marble clean.
“don’t wanna make things weird by telling you that kinda stuff.”
“lando, you called me when you lost your virginity and couldn’t find your way out of her apartment building. commando. you can tell me.” you deadpan.
as much as you could do without a play by play of his newfound relationship and changed ways, he’s your friend first, and he seems like he needs a shoulder. it would be careless, cruel, even, to deny him of that.
“well, we haven’t, uh, you know.” he looks at you intensely.
“oh. still?”
lando looks at you strangely, wondering what on earth you mean by that, but you swoop in with a get out of jail card that stops him from figuring out you’d eavesdropped.
“i mean, haven’t you guys been together for like a month?” you continue.
“yeah but i guess i figured i should take it slower, deviate from my, uh, usual way.” he admits, scratching his neck.
“oh, that’s… nice.”
“not according to casey.” he mutters, slinging the tea towel across the counter, frustrated.
“what’s that supposed to mean?” you enquire, avoiding eye contact.
“i don’t know, she’s just… she wants it and, fuck, i was trying to be a good fucking guy for once.” lando sighs, disheartened. his eyes are trained on you but you can’t meet his gaze, it would destroy you. “i spent so much time unhappy, wanting something i can’t have, so now i just… what would,” he inhales sharply, centring himself. “what would you want?”
“huh?” you squeak, daring to look at him. the room fades away in the intensity of his stare, his eyes boring into yours. the counter that separates you grounds you, stops you from dropping to your knees and begging him to love you.
“what would you want? how would you want that to be, your first time with someone?”
you stop breathing, curling your fingers around the cool marble.
“i… i don’t know.” you whisper.
“sorry, i knew this would be weird.” he rushes out.
“no, it’s not! well, yeah it is, but,” you inhale deeply. “if it were me, i guess i’d want you to… catch me off guard.” you murmur, leaning against the counter, the swirled marble cool against the bare sliver of skin that your ridden up t shirt exposes. “you know, with a really good kiss - soft at first, but the kind that… as it gets deeper, you know something so good is about to happen.”
lando stares at you, mouth hanging open as you speak softly, so earnestly, into the empty space between you. it seems like a million miles keeps you apart, and his eyes go wild, hungry, like he wants to crawl over the surface and pin you to it as he hangs on to your every word.
“i don’t really know,” you continue, trying to brush it all off, pretend that your entire body isn’t on fire, like you’re not itching for something that cannot be scratched. “but i suppose you’d pull me close, so i’m pressed up against you, and then it would get kind of sweaty, blurry… and then it’s just happening.”
lando seems to be bracing himself, holding position, a tension running through his body that wasn’t there before. he’s flushed, and if you squint, there’s a bead of sweat slowly dripping down his forehead, giving him away. your nails dig into your palms, a reboot to your system, and you shuffle backwards awkwardly, recoiling from the counter that keeps you from him.
“okay. uh, okay.” he whispers, nodding rapidly. “i’ll keep that it mind.”
“i’ll put the glasses away in the dining room.” you tell him hurriedly, grabbing the stems and hurtling out of the kitchen. when you reach his dining room, where the air seems to be much thinner, normal, you exhale shakily and book an uber.
“thought you would stay here.” lando strains when you tell him, watching you shrug your coat on.
“can’t tonight.” you reply, clipped.
“can we… can we get dinner this week maybe? just us?” lando pleads, doesn’t even try to hide the desperation in his voice.
“lando… i don’t think that’s a good idea.” you finally give up the ghost, looking him right in the eyes.
“why not?”
“you know why.”
he breathes your name, takes a step closer to you as you take a step back.
“no, i really don’t. why have you been so distant? i know what you saw in abu dhabi was weird but-“
“do you know why it was weird, lando? do you know how that made me feel?”
“no, because you haven’t said anything. tonight was the first night in months that you’ve seemed okay and now you’re being off again.”
“imagine finally thinking that the guy you’re in love with finally feels the same, only to walk in on him fucking some random person.” you bellow, tears slipping over your waterline. you breathe heavily, the admission taking tons off of your shoulders.
“what?” he gasps, jaw going slack.
“forget it.” you mumble, backing away towards the door. you can’t believe the relief you feel, exhausted from the pretending. you can’t even bring yourself to care about the repercussions.
“no, i- what the fuck did you just say?” lando’s eyebrows are drawn together tight, confused.
“you heard me.” your words are hushed, shy, laced with a tremble that makes his chest ache.
“i didn’t know.” is all he can say, staring at you with a desperation that makes you want to stay. you know better.
“it doesn’t matter now. you said yourself, you wanna be happy with her. so do it, go be happy with her.” you tell him, your lack of malice astounding.
“why can’t you fight for us?” he whispers, finally dares to go there.
“i did. abu dhabi. that was me fighting for you.” you scoff at his audacity. “why can’t you fight for us?”
“i didn’t know.” he repeats, voice going up an octave with annoyance. “imagine watching the girl you’ve been in love with for years go on dates, listen to her talk about the guys she’s seeing.” he hits back.
“maybe we’ve both made mistakes, lando, but i tried to put myself out there and got hurt. why would i do that to myself again?” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest protectively. your heart pounds in your chest, flustered at his admission, as much as you try and hide it from him. it hits different to hear him say it to your face; it didn’t cut as deep when you’d heard it lingering outside max’s kitchen.
“if i thought for a second that you felt how i felt - how i still feel - none of this would have happened, abu dhabi, casey, none of it.”
“but now you’re with her and, great, that’s fine, i’m just not sure how to be your friend right now.”
“no, no, we’re not throwing that away. even if we can’t be together,” you both visibly deflate at the word. “i know it’s so fucking selfish but i can’t lose you like that too.”
“give me a reason, lando. because right now? you’ve already lost me.”
when you get into the uber, you’re sobbing, and you’re sure the poor man that had the misfortune of picking you up understands when he turns the radio up - taylor swift is playing - and smiles at you sadly.
-
he’s spinning aimlessly in his gaming chair when max finds him.
“what the actual fuck is wrong with you?” is all max has to say, looming in the doorway to lando’s office.
“what happened to a simple ‘hello’?” lando grumbles.
“you’ll get a simple hello when you stop being a dick.” max replies, matter of fact.
lando laughs bitterly in response.
“just tell me one thing. one thing that makes no fucking sense to me. why are you still with casey?”
“i don’t know if i ever really was.” lando observes, eyes vacant and tired. “she was a distraction and i’m an asshole.”
“well, at least you know.” max mutters under his breath. lando can’t even muster a glare his best friends way.
“i ended it about an hour ago.” lando starts. “she told me that she was gonna go public, call me a cheater, say that i used her as a pawn. don’t even get me started on what she was gonna say about…” lando trails off, can’t even say your name. he feels like he doesn’t deserve to.
“fuck.” max sighs, finally walking into the room. he takes a seat on the small sofa. “what are you gonna do?”
“spoke to my team. they’ll deal with her. told me that they all deserve a pay rise and i don’t disagree.”
“and what about…” max echos his friend, trailing off. he leans forward with anticipation.
“i don’t know, man. i love her but i know i don’t deserve her, not after all this. she deserves to be happy and all i seem to do is make her miserable.”
“mate, she wasn’t miserable because you were just friends. she was miserable because you were ignoring her, choosing randoms over her. you know that, right?” max says, finally something resembling gentle in his tone.
“if i couldn’t even be a good friend, how the fuck am i gonna be a good boyfriend?”
“figure it out, you knob. all this feeling sorry for yourself isn’t working out. be honest with her for once, tell her how you feel. it’s not rocket science, lando. she loves you more than you deserve, so pull yourself together and fucking show her that she is everything to you.”
-
the next week is spent working far too hard and sleeping far too little.
you don’t hear from him, and he doesn’t hear from you, but it’s how it should be. if there’s no distance, you’d have a whole set of problems on your hands, forced on you by a can of worms that needed to stay sealed. it’s better this way, you relentlessly tell yourself.
max and p bring you dinner the night things change.
“you sure i can’t convince you to come work at quadrant?” max prods, taking in the ridiculous amount of papers and spreadsheets that have taken over your living room. “wouldn’t be as intense as this.”
“for so many reasons: no.” you shoot him a look, one that says leave it alone. he nods, gets the hint, and drops onto the scrap of sofa that isn’t covered in paperwork.
“you’ve been sleeping though, yes?” pietra asks, eyebrows raised with concern. she knows how you get.
you hum in acknowledgment, avoiding eye contact as you plate the food they’ve brought. p sighs.
“have you spoken to him?” max finally asks, and you know it’s taken everything in him to not ask, in the short five minutes he’s been in your flat.
“max!” pietra hisses, and he raises his hands in surrender.
“c’mon, you knew i’d have to ask, especially considering he’s been a little bitch all week.” max defends.
“i haven’t. told him i needed space.” you shrug.
“how’s that working out for you?” max gestures to the mess that engulfs the room, swallows it whole. again, you shrug.
“fine.” you stress, digging in to the chinese food. max scoffs and you snort with a mouthful of noodles when pietra glares at him.
“well, he’s miserable, and you’re behaving like someone who’s gonna end up on a true crime documentary, so sue me for asking.” he scolds sarcastically.
“okay, you want the tea?” you roll your eyes. “he told me they hadn’t had sex. i gave him advice - against the better judgment of literally anyone ever, by the way - tried to leave and he fucking ambushed me. wanted to have dinner with me, as if he hasn’t been pushing me away for months, and then had the fucking audacity, max, to ask me why i won’t fight for us, for him - oh! and he still has a girlfriend! so, you know what, you got me, i’m not doing so great but,” you choke out a laugh, opening the box of prawn toast. “too fucking bad.”
“i promise you, this will pass and casey will be gone and then-“
“and then me and lando can go back to pretending and avoiding and hurting each other. can’t wait.”
max shakes his head in defeat, knows he has to let lando fix this himself. he has no chance of winning this one with you.
“eat your noodles.” is all he has left. pietra disappears into your kitchen, and returns with a bottle of wine.
you eat together, put on netflix, slumped into the sofa as you try and relax. you’re halfway through your first drink when your phone buzzes. assuming it’s your overbearing boss, who apparently doesn’t sleep either, you pick it up and quickly wish you hadn’t.
lando: can you come over
like now
if you can
please. please please please please
we broke up.
“holy shit.”
you sit up suddenly, scan the room for your bag and a jacket. you don’t care that you’re in old sweats, you just feel the need to move, to get to him before common sense kicks in.
“you good?” max asks.
“uh, i need to go, like right now. stay and finish the wine if you want, but i just need to go to-“
“lando?” max and p ask simultaneously, and you burn with embarrassment.
“i can’t even try and lie to you right now. is this pathetic?” you question.
“no! go!” max shouts, exasperated, standing to usher you out of your own apartment.
-
twenty minutes later, you knock on his door.
when it opens, he’s disheveled in a way that makes you hug him immediately, his touch disturbingly foreign, and you feel him sink into your hold. he pulls you inside, kicks the door shut, and doesn’t let you go.
“sofa?” you murmur into his hoodie. you feel him nod, and you part, pad towards the lounge as you shrug off your jacket.
“hi.” he says tiredly, as soon as you’re both sat.
“hey.” you coo back. your eyebrows are drawn together as you take him in, concern woven through your features. “sorry about casey.” lando scoffs.
“don’t be, don’t even know what i was thinking.”
“well, neither do i,” you retort. “but i’m still sorry. did it happen just before you texted?” you ask.
“no, a week ago.”
“a week ago?” you gasp. “but that would mean…”
“yeah. right after you left here. asked her to come over and ended it. she told me she was gonna go to the media with a whole load of shit, so i’ve been sorting things out.”
“i’m so sorry.” you whisper.
lando laughs.
“you’re sorry? god, you’re way too fucking good for me.” he scoffs, bitter with self deprecation. “i can’t believe you even came, to be honest.”
“course i came. i might be angry at you, but you- you wanted me to, so…”
“i don’t even know where to start. i’m just so sorry about the last few months. i thought i was losing you and it drove me insane, but i should have never, ever taken my shit out on you.”
“what do you mean? losing me?”
“the dates, the guys. god, it was awful of me but it killed me.”
“that was only because i didn’t think i had a chance.”
“well, if it makes you feel any better, i didn’t think i had a chance either.” he laughs. “so what you said about abu dhabi… was that why you came? to tell me?”
“yeah, kinda. after some… encouragement from a mutual friend, i was gonna tell you that i wanted us to be more.”
lando shifts closer, your thighs pressing together. you can feel his body heat, so warm and inviting, drawing you closer.
“more.” lando repeats, tasting it on his tongue, the weight of everything he’s ever wanted since he was sixteen and fell in love for the first time.
“yeah, and then it seemed like you didn’t want that.”
“you must know by now that i also want more.” he murmurs, fingertips brushing your forearm. you keen into the barely there touch that traces over your skin.
“i’d say that’s been implied, yeah.” you joke, searching his eyes. they’re hooded, swirling with an intensity that you never thought you’d experience with another person. “um, i heard you and max. the night of pietra’s birthday.” you admit.
“fuck,” he sighs, shoulders sagging. “i’m so sorry, i swear, i never meant to put you through any of this. ‘m so, so sorry.”
“i know you are.” you whisper, loaded with a sincerity that only you could give him. “but you can never, ever treat me like this lando. i mean it.”
“i need you to know that i never meant to hurt you.” he swallows down a lump in his throat, voice wobbling just enough for you to notice.
“i do, lando.” you grab his hand, squeeze it tight.
“what do you want from me now? anything you want, i promise - i’m yours.”
“i want us to try, to see where this goes. i think we owe it to ourselves to see.”
“i never thought i’d ever get a chance with you.” lando laughs softly, the hand on your arm travelling to ghost over your cheek.
“why?”
“because i don’t think there’s anyone on this planet that’s good enough for you.” he confesses, leaning in until your foreheads touch.
“i don’t think that’s true, at least not where you’re concerned.” you breathe.
“how are you real?” it’s barely a whisper, barely audible, but it hits your ears like an alarm.
“don’t go all existential on me now.”
“then what should i do?”
“kiss me.”
“doesn’t that go against your whole ‘catch me off guard’ philosophy?” he murmurs, one hand reaching up to cup your jaw. your foreheads are still pressed together, eyes roaming each others.
“you’ll have plenty of time to surprise me.” you whisper.
you take a second to admire one another, the proximity mingling your warm breaths. when your lips finally brush, it’s slow, tentative, silent exploration. he tilts your head so that he can kiss you deeper, fingers sliding from your cheek into your hair. you emit a quiet moan, open up for him so he can taste you, and the feeling of him licking into your mouth sends your mind utterly blank.
he’s all consuming, totally intoxicating, a fresh blend of mint and something so blatantly lando that you feel like you’re floating. you find his neck, threading your fingers through the short strands at the nape of his neck. you hear something from deep in his chest, feel the vibrations of the low rumble as he presses you even closer to him.
when you inevitably break apart for air, he looks dazed, grinning like a fool as he smoothes his hand through the loose strands of your hair that fall around your face.
“i’m sorry that took so long.” lando hums, leaning in to peck your lips again. you can’t help but smile into it, in a daze of your own.
“me too.” you manage between smiling dopily up at him.
“you’re so beautiful.” he coos, still entranced. “you wanna stay here tonight?”
you hesitate for a second. he notices, interlacing your fingers with his.
“for the record, um, she never did. i couldn’t have her that close.” he mumbles, looking down at your hands guiltily.
“why?”
“didn’t feel right. she wasn’t,” he inhales shakily and meets your gaze again, piercing you with hazy blue hues. “she wasn’t you. i think that’s the real reason that i couldn’t… you know, with her.”
“i’ll stay.” you whisper, nodding softly. it’s all you can formulate as a response.
“i can make up the guest room.” he says wearily, posing it as more of a question than a statement, putting out the feelers. you scowl, eyes sparkling with a mischievous danger that leaves lando’s mouth bone dry.
“don’t bother.”
-
the grey linen of his bed sheets are soft against your skin as you sink into his mattress, watching intently as he pads around his room. you can smell him everywhere, a tangy, fresh musk that you want to bottle up and keep forever. lando glows in the dim, warm light of his bedroom and you feel a pang of regret that it’s taken this long to get here, muddled with a sense of relief that finally, you’ve made it.
“‘m gonna take a quick shower, okay? make yourself comfortable.” lando says, pauses for a second to take in the sight of you in his bed.
“okay.” you smile softly, eyes heavy with sleep as you relax further into the cushions. you hear the water running, white noise that allows your thoughts to run wild. the slide of the shower door grabs your attention and you think of him under the spray of water, bronze skin damp, hair slicked back.
when will it be your turn to see him like that, you wonder, musings of him pressed against you, bare and firm, flitting through your wandering mind. you realise, then, that you have him; he’s yours. why delay the inevitable?
slowly, you rise from the mattress, breathing shakily as your shirt comes off. your sweats follow, a trail of your clothes leading to the en-suite door. you can hear him humming to himself, the echo barrelling through your shaking body. you’re frantic with tension, a tinge of embarrassment, but then you consider his beautiful words, his confessions of love, and banish the feeling of shame that threatens to ruin you before you’ve even started. you unhook your bra, shimmy out of your panties, and grip the door handle. it turns slowly, steam spilling out of the room immediately, yet you shiver with anticipation.
“room for one more?” you call, and he jumps, turning suddenly.
you can’t make him out clearly, the fog painted across the shower door concealing his lean frame, and it draws you in closer, anticipation swirling in your belly.
he responds by sliding the door open, and you join him under the hot water. his eyes stay firmly on yours, body opening up to invite you in, hold you close as the spray hits you. the heat loosens your muscles, and you sink into him.
“fuck.” you hear him whisper, more to himself than to you.
“hi.” you breathe.
“am i dreaming?” lando blinks, a slow smile spreading across his face as he not so subtlety rakes his eyes over your frame.
“no,” you purr. “i’m real. this is real.”
his hands find your waist and you loop your arms around his neck, the kiss he pulls you into heated with a slow burning passion that makes you ache.
“you’re so pretty.” he pants into your mouth, firm and desperate - so sincere that it shakes you to your core.
“you’re perfect.” you choke out, mesmerised, alight in his thick hands.
“let me show you,” he starts, pauses briefly to kiss you. “wanna worship you.”
his words make you chase him for a kiss that doesn’t come. instead, he turns you to face away from him, your back to his front. you feel the cool spread of shower gel against your back, calloused hands working it into your skin gently. your hair, heavy with water, is pushed over your shoulder and you turn your head just enough to find his lips. your mouths move with intent as he works the soap down your back and over your waist. it tickles and you keen into him, enough that he holds you tighter, angles your hips away from his.
“careful, baby.” he warns lowly, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear.
“don’t wanna be careful.” you half moan, but he grips your hips even harder.
“not tonight, yeah? let me look after you. need you to know that i’m serious about this.” lando pants, his self restraint thin as it hits your ears. you smirk.
“you back on your ‘good guy’ bullshit?” you tease, throwing him a look over your shoulder. you catch sight of his lip caught between his teeth, wet curls matted against his forehead, and a wave of pure need washes over your body.
“for you? fuck yeah.” he manages, crouches down to lather soap down your legs. his hands roam your inner thighs, dangerously, painfully close to where you really need him to touch you, and you groan defeatedly.
“you’re horrible.” you sigh when he’s back to his full height, facing you once more. he flashes you a cheeky smile, fingertips smoothing over your arms.
“wanna get this right.” he shrugs.
“we could get it right - right here, right now.” you pout.
“patience.” lando cautions, rubbing over your sternum. he grazes over the underside of your breasts, daring to go even higher. you let out a broken sigh, shuddering at his incessant attention.
“asshole.”
“we already knew that about me, baby.” he winks. he maintains eye contact as he cups your breasts, massages them just enough to leave you wanting. his touch vanishes, then, and the elastic band of tension seems to snap. “rinse off, i’ll leave a towel for you.”
just like that, he’s gone.
-
you stretch like a cat across the mattress, the low sun sending the early light streaming through a devastating crack in the curtains. it leaves you disoriented - the sun never hits your own bedroom like that.
quickly, you remember you’re not in your own bed, partly because of the heavy arm that sprawls over your tired body, pinning you to the mattress. his breath hits your bare shoulder in heavy puffs that warm your skin, leaving your tingling as your curl further into the curve of his body. your movements nudge his head into the crook of your neck, his nose bumping the sensitive skin there and he stirs slightly, puckers his lips into a gentle kiss at the base of your throat.
you roll over, his arm weighing heavy against the curve of your waist the whole time. when you’re face to face, his eyes are still closed, unfairly long eyelashes dusting his cheekbones, but a smile is painted languidly across his lips. he looks so soft, boyish, perfectly unreal that you snuggle closer to him.
“go back to sleep.” he groans, hardly opening his mouth as if it’s too much work in his cosy state.
“not tired anymore.” you whisper into the slight space still left between you. your lips find his jaw, trailing across it until you find a sensitive spot just below his ear. he shivers, but he still doesn’t open his eyes. you smirk, tracing your tongue carefully over the definition of his jawline. you suck, bite down gently.
“really?” he murmurs, still smiling like a fool, only intensified by your movements. you hum in response.
“go back to sleep, baby.” you coo, sealing the hickey you’ve left with a delicate kiss, one that contradicts the harsh mark you’ve left.
“drives me insane hearing you call me that.” he sighs, almost pained. the newfound friction against your thigh explains why.
“does it, baby?” you murmur, right in his ear.
“roll over, honey. get comfortable for me.” is all he says in return. electricity shoots down your spine as you oblige, resuming your previous position.
“that’s it, c’mere.” lando rasps, sliding impossibly closer. you can feel the full length of his body pressed against yours, heat seeping from his bronze skin onto yours. your eyes flutter shut, a delicious buzz coursing through you as the anticipation grows.
you can feel where he’s hard, solid against the curve of your ass and you keen into him, arched into his front as much as you possibly can be. your thighs clench together, liquid heat pooling between them. your mouth hangs open as his hand grazes the outside of your thigh, smoothing over the thickness of them before he pulls them apart. his hand slots between them - a perfect fit - and he wastes no time grazing his knuckles over the damp cloth of your panties.
“lando.” you sigh, utterly content. it’s been a long time coming, but it already seems like it was worth the wait.
“you’re so wet for me already. you want me?” lando growls against the shell shell of your ear.
“touch me, baby.” you plead, pressing your ass harder against him. he hisses, thumbs hard at your clit in response.
you mewl, squeezing your thighs around his hand but he forces them apart, his arm tensing as he does. you grip it hard, nails digging into his forearm but he doesn’t relent. he rubs firm circles into the bundle of nerves over your panties, fingers dipping down to press into the wet patch quickly pooling in the lace.
“take them off.” you urge.
he quickly complies, fingertips grazing your hips as he slides the material off of your frame. as one hand settles back between your thighs, two deft fingers pinching your clit, his other snakes under the old mclaren t-shirt he’d leant you. he traces the pudges of your belly, scaling up, up, up, tickling across your ribs until he caresses the curve of your breast, his whole hand engulfing it. he plucks a nipple between his fingers at the same time he slides a digit between your folds, spreading your wetness around.
“feeling good for me, honey? do you know how sexy you are for me, making a mess, wearing my shirt?” lando muses, dangerously low. his voice is strained, a side affect of the hold your have on him, of how entranced he is by the way you writhe against him.
“so good.” you choke, rolling your hips to meet his hand. “need more.”
“more? is my girl greedy?” he taunts, circling your entrance with the tip of his finger.
“please?” you’re not above begging him. it does the trick.
you both moan at the way he stretches you around one finger, the single digit sliding deep. he grinds it into you, palm nudging against your clit with every move he makes. one finger becomes two and you gasp out his name, your hand finding his under the shirt, holding it to your chest. he squeezes your flesh, tweaking at your nipple until it’s hard between his fingers and your ass is grinding faster into his crotch. when he moves on to your other breast, you choke out a moan that tears through the both of you, the tension so thick in the room that it’s stifling.
“c’mon baby, i need you inside of me.” you beg, your voice a pathetic garbled whine, one that makes him falter and suck in a harsh breath.
“not sure you can take it, pretty girl. so tight just around my fingers.” lando challenges, slowing his fingers so that you can hear exactly what he’s doing to you. he curls them with every thrust, reaching a spot that temporarily leaves you blinded in the throes of his searing touch. “you’re gonna cum for me like this first, yeah? and then we’ll see if you can take me.”
“can’t- lando please just-“
he shushes you.
“you’re gonna let me give it to you, honey. you’re gonna take it all, because you’re a good girl, right?” his voice is so condescending, so commanding that it makes you throb around him, his fingers flexing harder and faster as he senses your lurking orgasm. “that’s it, honey, i can feel you. come on.” he urges.
your body spasms hard against his as it hits, any semblance of sleep shaken out of you as you fall apart. he holds you close, rides you through it - palm flat on your overstimulated clit while his fingers gently coax you over the edge. he’s hitting every spot, toying with every piece of you he can get his hands on. the hand alternating between your tits roams up to your neck squeezing briefly, just to tease, before he cups your jaw, turning your head enough so he can capture your lips in a feral kiss. it’s needy, full of greed as he swallows your cries of pleasure, keeps them all for himself.
when you go limp against him, the coils of tension finally loosening, he slips his fingers out slowly. you’re panting against his chest, descending back to reality, when you hear the telltale hum, a soft pop - he’s sucking his fingers clean.
“taste so fucking good.” he finally speaks, slick fingers pushing your shirt up your body and you manoeuvre it over your head. it’s tossed away, lost to the shadowy room.
“lando,” you hum. “i’m ready.”
it’s a plea that he can’t ignore, the duvet rustling around you. you feel him kick off his boxers and then he’s pressing his cock against the curve of your ass once more. its big, leaking already, and your mind goes completely and utterly blank.
“you feel so good against me.” he notes, dazed at the sensation of your bare flesh warm against his. “you sure?” he mumbles, pressing a firm kiss against the base of your neck, his hands working to reposition your legs so that he can slip into you.
“never been more sure in my life.” you promise, tingling with the anticipation.
he’s so close that you can feel the pulsing heat of him between your parted thighs. the head of him nudges over your clit and he drags himself up and down, coating his cock with your wetness. you’re frustrated - ready to flip the two of you over, fuck yourself full, but he beats you to it. the stretch of him makes you gasp, knuckles white as you grip the soft bedding. when his hips meet yours, he pauses, teeth sinking into your shoulder, utterly overwhelmed. you’re not doing much better, one hand snaking up behind you to find his curls, tugging softly on the messy strands. he likes it, groaning into the marks he’s leaving on your shoulder, lips trailing messily up your neck.
the sunlight streams harshly through the crack in the curtain, momentarily blinding you. it leaves you with only the feeling of him, a golden haze invading your other senses. he’s gripping your hip so hard that you’re certain that you’ll be able to map out each of his fingerprints after.
“can i move?” he rasps, punctuating his request with a delicate kiss just below your ear. you shiver, clenching around him tight, and he bucks into you inadvertently. it sends sparks shooting up and down your spine, an electric wave of pleasure that has your eyes fluttering shut.
“you better.” you implore.
“you’re fucking perfect around me.” he grunts, beginning to build a rhythm. it’s one that leaves you both breathless, brainless, unable to utter anything besides the relentless chants of each-others names, the needy wanton moans that neither of you can hide.
lando’s hands are everywhere, your hips, your ass, wrapped around your sternum to pull you back into him, plunging himself even deeper into you. you claw blindly at any part of him you can reach, braindead from the way he’s fucking you. you and him are like a tidal wave, surging closer and closer to shore after years of dormancy, of an aching, crushing build up. now, as it peaks, it could destroy you, wash you away and leaves you nothing. you know he won’t. you know by the way he’s holding you, by the soft whimpers he lets you hear, by the way he makes you feel more alive than you have in months.
“i’m so close.” your voice quivers, pleasure bleeding into the edges of your words.
“i’m gonna get you there, pretty girl. you’re so good for me.” he promises, one hand slipping between your thighs. he finds your clit, plays with it between his fingers. messy swirls combined with precise flicks make you shake “i can feel you, honey. can feel you holding back. let it all out for me.”
he sounds wrecked, like he’ll die if he can’t feel you let go around him. you feel the start of your orgasm crawling from the tips of your toes, up your legs, and into the fire pit of your belly.
“that’s it, give it to me.” lando whispers, his voice so far away, even though he’s right there, talking you through it with his lips pressing the shell of your ear.
“i love you, lando.”
with that, you shatter into a million pieces, convulsing around him, against him, trying to get impossibly closer to him as you simultaneously try and squirm away. he holds you close, barrelling into you with fast, deep rolls of his hips. each thrust taps into your special spot, stars clouding your vision, his name the only word on your lips, the only word that has ever existed.
“where do you want it?” he asks quickly, urgently anticipating his own end.
“inside of me.” you pant, delirious, but he’s not in the space to do any critical thinking - you love him! - so he takes your words at face value.
a guttural groan hits your ears like a sonic boom, his body tight and firm against your sweat slick back. he squeezes you tight as he fills you up, submitting totally to the heat of your core, to the intoxicating way you draw him in.
“i love you, too.” he mumbles into your shoulder, kisses the words into your flushed skin. “i always have.”
he flops onto his back, slipping out of you carefully first, a lazy smile on his face. his eyes are shut, angelic once more as if he hadn’t been whispering filth into your ear just a minute prior.
“we gotta do more of that.” lando laughs, blindly reaching out for you. you slip into his welcoming arms, draping yourself over his body.
“think i need a shower. maybe you can make up for leaving me in there last night.” you giggle, agreeing that, yes, you absolutely need to do more of that.
he hugs you closer, a kiss placed atop your forehead.
“you can have anything you want, honey.”
-
phew.
-
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I cant believe I am already on fem law... this happened like 2 days ago I cannot do it....
#nami saying luffy's dream is so fitting to him... she gets him she does...#the citizens are too kind... 'admit your fault' 'if you had treated us more nicely' come on pull out the guillotines#they are about to erradicate lulusia???? omg goodbye sabo.... omg inu has the nuclear codes devil fruit#sabo hope to god you made use of that logia fruit because jesus#omg the mid ad scenes are of luffy jumping to hug his crew.... i could cry#also if they have this power why even use the buster call.... the buster call is like a warning to other islands i guess but this....#reserved for ultra secret world government bussiness i guess... also you might appreciate the letters bf on frankys coat#thats because he is boyfriend material hope this helps#robin and chopper just chilling inside... chopper has one of tamas hats omg....#luffy is like yeah i might be flying off too but we are flying off together <3 also hello bonney not gonna lie i knew you were coming#omg the end credits... and Robin info dump???? quick recap of the past 500 chapters lmao#talking tag#watching one piece#episode 1089#OMG SUNNY DOWN??? tashigi and tbe children omg... g-14?? also koby collecting blonde partners ajsgaauab#OMG MECHAS ON THE SEAS not gonna comment on bonney we all know what i think. jail.#episode 1090#vegapunk needing funding akdhaksjsks.... so real.... the world government needs to fund the science department#the dumb loud ones are bait akdhaksbaksjak zoro and robin for the win....#bonney luffy and chopper what a trio akdhaksj#the episodes are now 18 minutes. one piece the time i have with you is limited... i am about to ration episodes like they're food in a war#so the seraphim are from sword or vegapunk???? and what does the cp0 want with vegapunk also luccis beard???#'you guys are about to blow up!' 'i have always been like this' JINBE!!!! AJSHAKAJA perreciclador.... incredible name omg#'my job is to be violent' aksjak i was thinking that vegapunks personalities are split in between the six and yeah looks like it#fucking blackbeard again.... DIEEEEEE!!! LAW KICK HIS ASS!!!!i cannot do it with the short episodes i cant.... i cant live like this....#episode 1092#the episode is called the winner takes it all.... sick abba reference. god... omg having leaks already.... BUT WHY IS THIS HAPPENING#law transitioned into a man by brute haki force ajdhajsjsjsj feminization sickness 💀💀💀 someone get on ao3....#SHACHI CAN DO THAT???? AND PENGUIN???? IS THAT PUDDING???? And fucking kuzan...... I still dont understand why he is with them...#episode 1091
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flicking katsuki’s forehead when he’s being rude
when you and katsuki decided to learn from the same pro-hero for your repeated work-study, you never would’ve guessed that you would go on patrols just the two of you. no sidekick, no actual pro-hero, just you and the blonde.
the two of you came across a villain and were legally allowed to fight him because of your licenses. after you defeated him with ease, katsuki complained about how it wasn’t a challenge at all, you came across three children.
they all looked related, most likely siblings, and they ran up to you so excitedly. katsuki backed away with a gasp as they jumped and yelled.
a short girl with brown hair, about shoulder length, exclaimed, “the two of you were great out there—“
the two other children agreed, but katsuki yelled, “hey, beat it, kids! you could’ve gotten incredibly hurt just by watching us from afar!” he pointed at a boy with a bright red hat, “you! i saw your neon hat from a short distance! you were way too close for—“
you rolled your eyes and brought your hand up, flicking his forehead. he paused his yelling and slowly turned to you before huffing and looking away. he crossed his arms, and you rubbed his back in a teasing manner as you talked to the children.
a sheepish smile appeared on your face, and you apologized to the children, “sorry about him, he gets a little rude sometimes and doesn’t think about his words. he was just worried for you, that’s all.” you paused, “you forgive him, don’t you?”
one of the children whispered to another, giggling and putting their hand over their mouth to stifle their laughter. they kept glancing at you and katsuki, and the other child wanted in on the secret.
you teased, “aw, come on, what are you guys talking about?”
the kids looked at each other with smiles on their faces before one stated, “he looks at you like how my daddy looks at my mommy!”
you and katsuki’s eyes both widened, your cheeks tinted red as the tips of his ears were also tinted red. he gasped and stared at the children in shock, surprised they would out him like that.
a small hum left your lips, and you pulled the blonde closer, as he was nearly stiff, but you said goodbye to the children, claiming you needed to leave and go back to your mentor’s agency. once they said goodbye, you dragged katsuki back to the agency in silence.
you interrupted the loudness in his head when you asked, “do you think we can get married after we graduate or should we focus on our hero work?”
gosh, you never failed to make his mind blank. he replied with another question, “can’t we do both?”
a giggle escaped your mouth, “i guess we can!”
he argued, “there’s one thing you need to know though. there’s no way in hell i’m having kids.”
you stared at him for a second, seeing the slight turn of his lips, and shook your head, “you’re such a liar, katsuki!”
a chuckle escaped his mouth, knowing you were right.
yuh
#yukioos#x reader#mha#mha x reader#my hero academia#my hero academia x reader#bakugo#katsuki bakugo#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo x reader
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thinkin’ about katsuki who grabs you by the arm after you’ve commited a crime punishable by death—trying to leave for work without giving him a proper goodbye kiss.
you’re already running a little late and he’s still sipping at his coffee when you rush past him, haphazardly shrugging your jacket on. “i”ll be back by five !” you call out. and katsuki stops you dead in your tracks with a loud “oi !”
you spin around to see him scowling at you, crossing his big arms over each other as he squints at you. he’s already in uniform and about ready to go, face mask around his neck and a bit of his shirt still unzipped, chest exposed just enough for you to sneak a quick peek at.
you tilt your head, mind still a little scrambled and confused about what he could possibly want and he rolls his eyes “you forgot something, dummy..” he clicks his teeth. a smile grows onto your face and you’re happily skipping over to your man, having understood his slightly butchered version of “you forgot to give me a kiss before you leave.” katsuki watches intently as you approach him.
unfortunately for you, still in a rush, you make the fatal mistake of pressing a swift kiss to his cheek, you feel your lipgloss cling to his skin and giggle internally, you knew he’d complain about how irritatingly long it took to wipe the sticky shit off.
“have a nice day, baby. i love you.” you say sweetly, spinning around because you imagine he’ll just grumble something back like how you’re used to. you make your way to the door—or you try to, because in a heartbeat you’re grabbed by the arm and spun right back towards the blond.
he looks extremely irritated from this close up, katsuki presses his forehead to yours and pulls you closer by the small of your back, then smacks his lips against your hard, you squeal at the intensity of it all, especially so early in the morning (even though you should always expect intense with katsuki). his hands are rubbing up your spine as he pulls you impossibly closer and he’d managed to force his way into your mouth, breathing into it. you break away, and he presses one more wet kiss to yours.
it’s all you can do to try and catch your breath, eyes wide as he keeps looking at you intensely. he pulled away just enough for you to see him speak. you hear your heart in your ears.
“you gimme..a proper kiss or nothin’..y’got me ?” he pants, still trying to catch his breath. still hearing your heart in your ears you nod “mhm, okay..” you hum. he scans your face before a smirks breaks onto his face.
“good..,” he looks awfully proud of himself. he pats your butt and snorts when you jump, then presses a kiss to the side of your head “love you babe, have a good day at work.” the smirk stays prominent, not like he’s trying to hide it, as he finishes the rest of his coffee and you turn around with a hum, trying your best to get out of your daze and rush for work.
you’re absolutely sure he’d just made you late with that one, but you really weren’t complaining
#katsueeughj🤤🤤#i want him sb#AAIAUAJEKE SOMEBODY SEDATE ME#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugo fluff#bakugou imagine#bakugou x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou katuski x reader#cashs little thoughts and feelings#cash blurbs !#wtf typa word even is blurb lmfao#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#katsuki bakugo fluff
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ok since I have no one else to tell this to since my best friend decided she fucking hates me, let me rant about what happened today with this guy
#there's a guy in my flight attendants training class that is simply THE cutest man I've ever seen#salt and pepper well trimmed beard. kind hazel eyes. blonde hair streaking gray#he is NOT old that's just what his hair looks like. which makes it even worse. he's so cute.#he was nice to me on day one but nothing too excessive. he just seemed kind. not directly to me. just in general#but then today (day 2) as soon as I got there he was just SO nice to me#borderline flirty#but I can't even tell because people just don't flirt with me. so it's not like I'd known what that looks like#but he kept finding reasons to touch me#and striking random conversation#he picked up a lose hair strand from my neck when I wasn't even looking at him. for crying out loud#when we took a group picture he told me to go to the front and called me SHORTCAKE#LIKE WHAT WAS THAT#when I was leaving he literally stopped mid conversation with the other guys to HIGHFIVE ME GOODBYE?!!!!???#I want to punch this man in the face#all of that would sound great right? a guy likes me! great news!#no guys he has a gigantic wedding ring. enormous. and I'm also pretty sure he's gay#on day 1 of onboarding he gave me a straight vibe but then he called our male ceo hot so I guess there's that#he could just be bi#but that's not even important when HE WEARS A WEDDING RING????#kill me.#rambles*
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WAG Bootcamp
Part 2
Word count: 767
Pairing: lando Norris x reader, but mostly just Y/n and the WAGs
Summary: Y/n, Lando Norris’ new girlfriend, attends her first F1 race and is swiftly taken under the wing of the WAGs, who teach her the unspoken rules of f1
________________________________________________________
Y/n had been to big events before. Red carpets, premieres, and fashion weeks—she could handle a camera flash like a pro. But standing at the entrance of the paddock for her first-ever Formula 1 race, wearing her McLaren pass around her neck, she felt completely out of her depth.
The world of F1 wasn’t just about fast cars; it was about politics, strategy, and—most terrifyingly—the WAGs.
Lando had kissed her goodbye at the hospitality entrance, promising to see her after FP1, and that was when she was ambushed.
“Alright, rookie,” Kika, Pierre Gasly’s girlfriend, looped an arm through hers, her honey-blonde hair bouncing as she steered Y/n toward a private table in the paddock. “Time for bootcamp.”
“Bootcamp?” Y/n repeated, feeling a bit like a deer in the headlights.
“You think you can just waltz in here and be a proper F1 girlfriend without guidance?” Lily, Alex Albon’s girlfriend, teased, sliding into a seat with a knowing smirk. “No, sweetheart, it doesn’t work like that.”
“You’re lucky,” Alex, Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend, added. “Not everyone gets the full WAG orientation on their first weekend. Usually, we just let them suffer.”
Y/n blinked. “Should I be scared?”
Rebecca, Carlos Sainz’s girlfriend, gave her an encouraging pat on the back. “Yes.”
Lesson One: Pre-Race Preparation
“You need to know how to handle Lando before a race,” Carmen, George Russell’s girlfriend, started, flipping her sunglasses onto her head. “Every driver has their own pre-race routine. If you mess it up, congratulations—you’re the reason he finishes P12.”
“Wait—what?” Y/n’s eyes widened. “That’s a lot of pressure.”
“Not really,” Kelly, Max Verstappen’s girlfriend, said with a shrug. “Just don’t be annoying. Keep the energy calm, don’t talk too much, and if he’s in the zone, let him stay there.”
Kika nodded. “Pierre needs hype. So I tell him he’s the best, kiss him, and send him off like a gladiator into battle. Meanwhile, Lily literally has to trick Alex into thinking racing is just a fun little game so he doesn’t overthink.”
Lily grinned. “I gaslight him into thinking it’s no big deal. Works like a charm.”
“Susie?” Y/n turned to Susie Wolff, the ultimate WAG and wife of Toto Wolff. If anyone knew how to manage an F1 man, it was her.
Susie sipped her espresso like a woman who had seen it all. “Toto is different. He’s not the one in the car, but believe me, he’s more dramatic than any of the drivers.” She sighed. “My advice? Just make sure Lando doesn’t forget to eat.”
“Got it. No messing with his pre-race mood, gaslight if necessary, and make sure he eats,” Y/n recapped. “I can do that.”
Lesson Two: Media Management
“Now, the media,” Alex said, leaning in. “You’re dating Lando. People will analyze everything you do. What you wear, how you look at him, whether or not you smiled when he crossed the finish line.”
“You need to learn the ‘paddock girlfriend’ face,” Kelly instructed. “Not too excited, not too miserable—just engaged enough to look like you care, but also mysterious.”
Lily demonstrated, tilting her head slightly and pressing her lips together in the perfect neutral expression.
Y/n tried to mimic her but ended up looking mildly constipated.
“We’ll work on it,” Carmen assured her.
“And social media,” Rebecca added. “Fans will stalk every post, every like. If you breathe near another driver, they’ll start a conspiracy theory that you’re cheating.”
Y/n groaned. “Oh, fantastic.”
“Just own it,” Kika advised. “If they start a rumor, make it worse. That’s what I do.”
Lesson Three: Surviving the Race
“You are now a part of the emotional rollercoaster that is watching your boyfriend risk his life at 300 km/h,” Susie said with a knowing look. “You will feel stress, anxiety, and possibly rage.”
“If someone crashes into Lando, you are obligated to hate that driver for at least two weeks,” Kelly informed her.
“And you need a coping strategy,” Rebecca added. “I stress-eat.”
“I online shop,” Alex said.
“I start manifesting,” Lily said dramatically.
“I drink,” Kika said, holding up a glass of champagne.
Y/n exhaled. “This sport is insane.”
The women all nodded in agreement.
As the session wrapped up, Y/n felt a new sense of confidence. Maybe she wasn’t fully prepared yet, but she had an elite team of WAGs ready to guide her through the chaos.
Just then, her phone buzzed. A message from Lando: How’s your first F1 day going?
She smiled, typing back: I think I just joined a secret society.
And so, the newest recruit of the WAG Bootcamp was officially initiated.
#fanfiction#reader insert#fanfic#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#fluff#wags#kika gomes#carmen montero mundt#alexandra saint mleux#lily muni he#susie wolff#rebecca donaldson#kelly piquet#lando norris x y/n#lando noris#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando x y/n#lando x you#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#fan fiction
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*ೃ༄ DOWN FOR THE COUNT!
ft. Sakura Haruka, Suo Hayato, Umemiya Hajime, Hiragi Toma, and Kaji Ren
… moments in which they realized they’re utterly whipped for you (2.6k wc)
Cw) gn!reader, uhh umemiya’s bit is corny but he’s lowkey a corny guy, tbh i got stumped with suo’s part sorry if that’s evident, profanity in kaji’s part, spar my head i haven’t written in a minute
SAKURA
“It’s getting late… I think I should get going before it’s dark.”
You had spent the day off with a few of the Furin first years, which included Nirei, Suo, and your boyfriend, Sakura. You didn’t realize how much fun you were having until you checked the time, almost reading past your curfew.
Sakura frowned, and Suo was quick to notice. He shamelessly pushed him closer towards you with his signature smile, making Nirei tilt his head a bit.
“Now now, no need to get so sorrow. You’ll see each other again soon!”
You quirked a brow at the one-eyed boy’s antics, wondering what he was up to this time. From the corner of your eye, you could see Sakura’s face growing redder and redder, something you’ve grown used to overtime.
“Yeah, I’m seeing him tomorrow or the day after,” you informed, a skeptical tone lacing your voice. “What are you getting at this time, Suo?”
He merely stood still and smiled as uttered the sentence that was bound to break Sakura.
“Don’t lovers bid each other farewell with a goodbye kiss?”
Ah, so that’s what that was.
Steam emitted from Sakura’s ears. On the other hand, you seemed unphased. He had a point, wasn’t that an unspoken rule? It wasn’t like you and Sakura hadn't kissed before, but whenever you did, it was always in private.
However, Suo seemed eager to know whether or not Sakura had the balls to kiss you in public, more eager than you for whatever reason.
“I mean, I don’t have a problem with it,” you replied shyly. “Do you, Sakura?”
It took all he had to form a coherent sentence. “No—! But why do you guys have to be here?!” he yelled.
“Well we wanna say bye too. Right, Nirei?”
The blonde nodded his head hastily. He always saw you as a friend too, and not just an extension of Sakura. Although, he felt bad for Sakura’s flustered state right now.
“Well then, I’ll see you guys later,” you waved at the two before turning to your boyfriend. “And you…”
If his cheeks could get any redder, they would. As you slowly leaned in for a kiss, he could see Suo’s sly smirk from the corner of his eye, as well as Nirei’s baffled face. Your face was getting closer and closer, eyes closed and lips parted, and all he could do was…
“Woah! There you go, Sakura,” Suo cheered.
His body acted faster than his mind, and before he knew it he was cupping your face gently as his lips moved against yours. There was no telling what came over him— he just went for it.
You pulled away, both breathless and flabbergasted. “I… I didn’t think you’d be so into it,” you stammered.
He looked away in embarrassment. “You wanted a kiss, right? So that’s what I gave…”
Everyone, including you, looked at him with cheeky grins.
“…you,” he finished, brows furrowing at the realization he’s the center of attention. “What’s everyone’s problem?!”
“Oh nothing,” Suo smiled. “It just seems you’re head over heels, that’s all.”
He didn’t reply, only watching as you waved everyone goodbye and headed home. After all, there was no point in denying something that was true.
HIRAGI
“Here, take this.”
”But it’s the last one?”
”I can always buy more, y’know?” Hiragi insisted, still holding the last of his stomach medicine out to you. “Besides, all you're gonna do is complain about how much it hurts till you get home.”
You hesitantly took the small box from your boyfriend’s hand, looking back up at him with a concerned glance. “You sure?”
”I’m positive,” he assured.
Reluctantly, you took the last dissolvable pill, throwing the now empty box into a nearby recycling bin. It worked as fast as Hiragi said it would. In an instant, your stomach stopped twisting and turning, and you no longer felt like you were being torn apart from the inside.
Hiragi watched from beside you, noticing your pained expression shifting into one of relief. He couldn’t help but let a small smile creep upon his lips. He knew better than anyone how bothersome stomach pains could be, so when you expressed how much yours ached, he felt the need to give up the last of his medicine— something he probably wouldn’t do so easily for anyone else.
“Thanks, Toma,” you said gratefully, hands tucked away in your pockets anxiously. It was until then you realized you’ve been forgetting something.
“Oh shit,” you muttered. “I forgot about these…”
You pulled out another pack of Hiragi’s stomach medicine. It was still wrapped, telling him you recently bought it. “I meant to give this to you earlier, but I was in so much pain that it slipped my mind.”
He examined the small box you held out to him, eyes wider than usual and mouth agape.
“You really didn’t have to, y’know?”
You scratched the back of your head. “Well, you told me yesterday you were running low. So when I saw it in stock, I figured I’d get it for you just in case. And, well, it’s a good thing I did, huh?”
He felt something flutter in his stomach, something he’s still not used to feeling around you. He gently took the medicine from your hands and unwrapped it immediately.
“Already!?” you yelped, watching as your boyfriend gulped down two of the dissolvable pills.
He chuckled sheepishly. Despite the aid to his stomach, the feeling wouldn’t go away. He knew now that they were butterflies, and no amount of stomach relief could kill them. At least, not while you’re around.
“What am I going to do with you…” he sighed.
Who knew that the tough, hardheaded Hiragi could be taken down by a couple of butterflies?
UMEMIYA
You could still recall the surprise you felt when you entered Umemiya’s room for the first time. It wasn’t its neatness— no. You figured Umemiya kept his room clean out of respect for his caretakers in the orphanage. It also wasn’t the wall full of photos that held memories of him, his friends, and even you.
No, none of that was a surprise to you.
It was the overflowing bookshelf against the widest wall that caught you off guard.
”I knew you were fond of a good book here and there,” you started as your widened eyes scanned the various titles that peeped out the shelf. “But this… this looks like it came straight from a library, Hajime.” you said in awe.
He gave you the go ahead to check it out, even pointing to the ladder tucked away in the corner of the room in case you wanted to reach the very top shelf— which even he couldn’t reach without an extra step. You gave him a small thanks as he flopped down onto his bed, turning his head to admire your moving frame.
”Oh?” you muttered, catching sight of a familiar spine. “Woah, you even have my favorite book,” you spoke, a hint of excitement lacing your tone.
”Hm?” he hummed, sitting up to catch a better glimpse of the book you held.
”This one! It’s my favorite, have you read it yet?” you inquired, wanting to ask if he’s read every book on that shelf for that matter. You were too fixated on rereading the synopsis on the back cover to notice your boyfriend was now standing beside you.
His eyes scanned the synopsis, not finding it familiar. “I think this is one of the one’s I’ve been meaning to read…” he said quietly, both speaking to you and himself.
You turned to face him, smiling at the focussed look plastered across his face. God, if only he knew how pretty he looked in the warm lighting of his room, you thought.
”Why don’t we read it?”
”But there’s only one copy…?”
”I meant together.”
Your words replayed in his head. You wanted to read the book with him… together… at the same time. ‘How would that go?’ he thought. He assumed you’d either be next to him, you’d hold one half of the book open while he held the other. He’d turn the page once you were both finished reading it, and maybe you’d lean your head on his shoulder and…
His face turned beet red as his mind conjured up all sorts of scenarios. No matter how he imagined it, it was always so… innocently intimate. You always looked adorable in his peripheral vision, and your presence alone warmed him more than the thick comforter you both sat under.
He didn’t realize he was staring until you waved your hand in front of his face.
”Earth to Hajime? Helloooo~?”
He stumbled back a bit in surprise, before eventually coming back to his senses. “Sorry! Sorry! I was just…”
”Staring at me for a minute straight?”
“Yes! No! Kinda?” he stumbled over his words, something you thought was a little unusual for him. “It’s just…”
You quirked a brow, both curious and nervous for what he has to say. It couldn’t be bad— considering how red in the face he was right now. Of course, that didn’t stop your stomach from doing backflips.
”I love you,” he blurted.
“I love you too,” you tilted your head, was that it? It was sweet, but it wasn’t like he never said it; what made him so nervous to say it this time?
“No, I don’t just love you…” his voice trailed off, and he took both your hands in his. The book you were previously holding hit the ground with a quiet ‘thud,’ and your lips parted in surprise.
”I’m in love with you, Y/n.” he confessed. “I would do anything you asked me to— anything. And if you wanna read this book together, then that’s what we’ll do.”
It was safe to say reading together became a regular thing for you two after that.
SUO
“You always sleep like that.”
Suo peered up at you with a quirked brow. “Hm? Like what?”
“Like that,” you gestured to his figure. He laid on his back, arms resting over his stomach and hands placed atop each other as if he were ready to be placed in a casket. “Are you sure you’re not a vampire?”
“Oh? Are you questioning my humanity now?” he teased, sitting up from the mattress to better engage in conversation.
You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment and thinking back to your original train of thought.
Suo’s never cuddled with you.
The first time you shared a bed with the boy, you thought he was just stiff, not wanting to push any boundaries you may have had. Instead of questioning it, you opted to snuggle into his side for the night. Though you were a little disappointed to find him in the same state he fell asleep in when the sun rose, you never mentioned it.
That was until it happened again, and again, and again…
“Do you hate cuddling?”
His tired eye widened a bit in surprise, “What?”
“You sleep the same way every night… and you never cuddle. Are those two things related at all?”
Your words would’ve sounded harsh if it weren’t for your soft tone. You weren’t mad at him, only curious. What reason did he have for not wrapping an arm around you when you were lying right next to him? Don’t most couples do that when they sleep in the same bed, no matter how they sleep?
“I sleep like this out of habit. I’m sorry, love.” he spoke, voice soft and apologetic. “If you wanna cuddle tonight, I can try.”
“Please?”
He hummed, patting the spot next to him for you to scoot over, which you gladly did. You both laid back down, arms loosely wrapping around each other as you buried your face into his chest.
His scent was stronger this close up, something that soothed you greatly. You could tell he wasn’t used to this, and a small part of you felt bad for making ditch something he was adjusted to.
“Sorry for—“
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he reassured. “I should be the one saying sorry. I didn’t realize how selfish I was being.”
You pulled away from his chest to look up at him, “Selfish?” you laughed. “You weren’t selfish, you were just used to something else.”
“Mmm, I suppose,” he whispered, gently pushing your head back on his chest. “But I could definitely get used to this.”
You thought he planted your head back on his chest for the comforting feeling, which was true to a degree. But his main motive for keeping you from seeing his face was so you couldn’t see the blush that crept up to his cheeks.
Yeah, he wouldn’t mind getting used to anything else as long as it were with you.
KAJI
Kaji was never fond of having his possessions tampered with.
For example, his precious headphones. They were a gift from Hiragi to keep him tamed when needed. Since the day he’s received them, he’s been incredibly selective with who can lay a finger on them.
In all fairness, he had a right to do so. For one, they were a gift. Second, he actually needs them. To those who don’t know him, he may come off as possessive. But in reality, he’s just being protective.
His clothes on the other hand… yeah, those were a different story.
Having so little clothes, he’s careful to keep them all organized throughout the week. So when he notices one of his hoodies is missing…
“Where the hell did it go?” he grumbled under his breath, scouring through his wardrobe in search of his missing hoodie.
It was nowhere to be found. Not on the hangers, not on the shelves, not misplaced under a pair of pants, nowhere. His brows furrowed tightly in annoyance, he could’ve sworn it was there yesterday…
“Kaji? You okay over there?” your voice called from his bedroom doorway.
Ah, he thought. In the midst of his dilemma, he forgot that you were supposed to be coming over today. He took a deep breath and closed his closet, turning around to face you.
“One of my hoodies went missing, have you seen it any…” he went quiet, eyeing you up and down.
So that’s where it went.
“You mean this one?” you said, gesturing to the soft hoodie that clung to your torso.
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
“My bad…”
If he was being honest, he thought he’d be pissed if he found out you were the one who took it. That’s how he’d react if it were anyone else, right? But as he stared at his hoodie that you were wearing, he couldn’t feel an ounce of anger in him.
His cheeks turned red before he could notice, and he was too awestruck to utter another word. Seriously, shouldn’t he be mad? He thought he should be, but he couldn’t.
You noticed his dumbfounded face from across the room, unsure of what he was trying to express. “Sorry, Kaji. Did you want it back?”
“No—! You can…” his voice trailed off, finding his own thoughts to be unbelievable.
“Keep it,” he finished.
“Really?” you beamed.
“Yes really… Now hurry up and pick another before I change my mind.”
You rushed over to him gleefully, embracing him in a tight hug. “You’re the best!”
He hugged back, burying his reddened face into the crook of your neck. You let him go to search through his closet, looking for an extra hoodie to take for keeping. As he watched you sort through each one, only one thought crossed his mind.
‘Who let this happen to me…?’
© enassbraid 2024. i do not permit plagiarism, translations, or reposts of my work on any platform.
#wind breaker#wind breaker x reader#windbreaker x reader#wbk x reader#suo hayato#suou x reader#suo x reader#sakura haruka#sakura x reader#sakura haruka x reader#hajime umemiya#umemiya#umemiya x reader#hiragi toma#hiragi#hiragi x reader#kaji ren#kaji#kaji ren x reader#kaji x reader#wind breaker fluff#dor writes
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hellaur, i just thought about something random, so daughter!reader is baby to toddler age, driver has to bring them to media day since their significant other has other agendas. so while on an interview or a press conference d!r just babbles or just calls out other drivers when she sees them pass by, to the point some interviewers ask her questions so that she can "answer" them
(idk who the driver is but you can pick on who it is)
Papá’s Little Sunshine



Media day was always busy. Reporters, flashing cameras, and the constant buzz of conversation filled the air as drivers moved through the paddock. But today, Carlos wasn’t walking in alone. Today, he had his 17-month-old daughter, Yn, nestled securely in his arms.
Rebecca had left early that morning for a model shoot in Milan, her goodbye kiss lingering on his cheek as she gave him one last serious look.
"Are you sure you don’t want my parents to watch her?" she’d asked, her voice soft but concerned.
Carlos shook his head immediately, his arms already wrapped around Yn’s tiny frame. "No. She’ll be fine with me. I want her to see the paddock, to see my car."
Rebecca sighed, brushing a stray curl from Yn’s forehead. "Just… be careful, okay? You know how the media can be."
"I’ll be careful," he promised, placing a kiss on Yn’s temple. "We’ll be fine, won’t we, princesa?"
Yn, still drowsy from her morning nap, had simply snuggled closer to her father’s chest, her thumb resting near her mouth.
Now, as Carlos stepped into the bustling Williams garage, he felt a wave of pride wash over him. Yn’s small hands clung to his shirt as her wide, curious eyes took in everything—the colorful cars, the people bustling around, and the soft hum of machinery.
"Carlos!" His media manager, a cheerful woman with a headset perched on her blonde curls, approached him with a smile. Her gaze softened when she spotted Yn in his arms. "And who is this little angel?"
"My daughter, Yn," Carlos said, his voice warm as he adjusted her slightly in his arms. "Rebecca’s away today, so she’s hanging out with me."
The media manager’s smile grew. "Would you like me to hold her while you do your interviews?"
Carlos shook his head without hesitation. "No, she’s fine with me." He looked down at Yn, who was now happily chewing on her chubby fingers. "Aren’t you, princesa?"
Yn’s face brightened at her father’s voice, and she let out a soft, contented babble, leaning her head against his shoulder.
The first few interviews went smoothly. Carlos answered questions about the car’s upgrades, his hopes for the upcoming race, and his thoughts on the competition. All the while, Yn remained perched happily in his arms. She wasn’t the least bit fussy—if anything, she seemed fascinated by the boom microphones and cameras pointing at them.
At one point, she reached for the microphone in Carlos’s hand, her tiny fingers wrapping around the black foam.
"Ah, you want to answer the questions now?" Carlos chuckled, pulling the mic just out of her reach. "I think she has her own opinions already."
The reporters laughed softly, clearly charmed by the sight of the stoic driver cradling his daughter so gently.
Halfway through another question, a familiar voice called out from across the media pen.
"Is that my favorite girl I see?"
Carlos turned, his face breaking into a smile as Charles strolled over, already reaching out. Yn’s head snapped up at the sound of her uncle’s voice, and she immediately stretched her arms toward him.
"Cha!" she squealed, her excitement making Carlos chuckle as he carefully handed her over.
Charles took her effortlessly, settling her on his hip as he brushed a soft hand through her dark curls. "How’s my petite cœur, hmm?" he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.
Yn babbled something incoherent, her chubby hands patting his chest as if she had something very important to tell him.
"You’re so lucky, you know," Charles said to Carlos, though his attention remained fully on the little girl. "I’d take her over media duties any day."
Carlos laughed, shaking his head. "I know. She makes everything better."
A few minutes later, as Charles handed Yn back, other drivers began filtering through the media pen. Every time someone passed by, Yn would lift her little hand and wave enthusiastically.
"She’s got better paddock manners than some of us," Carlos joked to a reporter, watching as Oscar waved back with a soft smile.
But the real chaos began when Lando arrived.
"Ayyyyy! There’s my girl!" Lando’s voice rang out as he practically skipped toward them, hands outstretched. "Come here, darling! Your favorite uncle’s here!"
Carlos rolled his eyes playfully but didn’t stop Yn from lunging toward her godfather. Lando scooped her up effortlessly, settling her against his chest as she babbled a stream of Spanish gibberish.
Lando nodded along seriously, despite clearly having no idea what she was saying. "Mm-hmm. Oh, really? Girl, no way. That’s wild, Yn," he said, his face a mask of exaggerated seriousness.
Carlos shook his head fondly. "She’s telling you all her secrets, man."
"I’m honored," Lando grinned, bouncing Yn gently. "We have a special bond. Right, darling?"
Yn responded by grabbing his nose, making everyone around them laugh.
The interviewer—an older woman with kind eyes—decided to join in the fun. She lowered her microphone to Yn’s level. "Yn, sweetheart, do you have any predictions for the race this weekend?"
Yn stared at the microphone for a moment before glancing up at her father, a mischievous glint in her bright eyes. Then, with a happy squeal, she leaned forward and attempted to "eat" the microphone.
Carlos let out a loud laugh, shaking his head as he took her back into his arms. "No, mi amor, that’s not food," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple.
The laughter around them swelled as Yn giggled happily, snuggling back into her father’s arms as if she hadn’t just stolen everyone’s hearts.
"You’re gonna have to bring her every weekend," Lando joked, hands on his hips. "I swear, the whole paddock is ten times happier right now."
Carlos smiled softly, adjusting Yn’s position as she yawned against his shoulder. "Maybe I will," he said, his voice warm. "As long as her mamá lets me."
And as he walked away to finish the rest of his media duties, Carlos couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man in the world—with his bright little sunshine lighting up every step.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed this story. My requests are always open for you.
-💙🦋
#f1 drivers as fathers#formula 1#formula one#f1 x daughter!reader#f1 x female reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#💙🦋#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz x daughter!reader#carlos sainz#sainz!reader#dad!carlos sainz#charles leclerc x reader#oscar piastri x reader#lando norris x reader
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