#it takes me months but eventually the replies come out
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── .✦ Renaissance - Levi Ackerman .✦ ──
🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ levi x fem reader
summary: levi leaves you in the underground for the scouts, only for him to find you again in marley when the war is over. however, nothing about you is the same as it once was. you are not the same person you were 12 years ago. cw: canon universe, eventual smut, fluff, yearning ao3
pls lmk what you think so far i need validation in order to continue writing LOL LOVE U
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PREFACE
"I'm leaving tonight."
Levi's tone was succinct, not allowing any room for discussion.
"So you're really leaving? Leaving me?"
You're sitting on the edge of the grungy bed that you and Levi found on the street a few months ago - an upgrade from the last one that was a simple cot. Your palms lay flat on the semi-hard matieral, feeling the coils underneath your fingertips.
"You're not coming with me. Don't even think about it." His back is facing you, his broad shoulder muscles look tense even through the fabric of his shirt.
Giving up and backing down is not something you're familiar with. Growing up in the underground, you've always had to fight for everything, even food.
Levi knows this. He lived it.
You sat in silence for a few moments, his words seeping into your skin.
I'm leaving tonight.
The Scout Regiment had been eyeing Levi for quite some time now, watching how skilled he was and how ruthless he can be. But every night, he would come home to you.
Over the years you grew to rely on Levi more and more, which is biting you in the ass now. He would always protect you through the trials and tribulations of the Underground.
One night, you heard Levi's voice outside the apartment you shared. It was barely livable, but you both made it work.
Then you heard another man's voice. A strong, poised man.
"We can't wait to have you on the Scouts, Levi." You heard the man say, and then heavy footsteps as he fled, and the front door opened.
Your mind was racing, not knowing how to regulate all the thoughts that were bouncing around. You sat up in the bed, the thin blanket pulled to your chest for comfort.
He stepped in the room almost silently. When you looked in his eyes, you knew.
And now here you are.
"You very well might never see me again." Your eyes find his, fighting to hold his gaze.
"I know that."
"And you're willing to lose me for this? For some words that the Commander said?"
"Humanity could be free. You could be free." He sat down on the bed, the mattress dipping slightly as he sat.
"I'll never be free." Your eyes close to stop the tears from spilling out.
He didn't have a reply or rebuttal, like he knew you were right.
You couldn't even bare to look at him - his beautiful skin, his stormy eyes that you found comfort in. Home in.
Levi turned his body towards you, finally looking you in your eyes. As if it was going to kill him to look away from you.
And it was.
Because when he would look away next, he would be gone.
For years.
"I'm doing this for you." He muttered, taking your hand gently in his. "I want you to live a happier life without titans."
"You can keep telling yourself that, but that doesn't make it true."
Yours and Levi's relationship has never had a definition. You grew up together, only being 17 when he was recruited to the Scout regiment.
You were so, so young.
All you knew was him.
"I-I love you Levi." Your hand squeezed his, as if it was your lifeline. "S-So much, so much it's hard to breathe."
He winces, not at the pain from you squeezing his hands, but from your words. He doesn't reply, only giving you a kiss on your forehead.
His warm lips caressed your skin, almost as if he was burning his kiss into your skin. When you look up into his eyes, you can see the life leaving them.
Begging for more, your hand pressed to his cheek as you pull him closer to you, tears in your eyes as you press your lips to his in a messy, tear-filled kiss.
Levi didn't kiss you often. Which you didn't mind, it never really went farther than kissing anyways. Your hands laced in his inky locks as tears stained your face, his thumb subconsciously rubbing them away.
When you pull away for air, he stands up abruptly and grabs his jacket. His hands are slightly shaking as he looks away from you, slowly making his way to the bedroom door.
The last thing you saw of him was the back of his head.
"Goodbye."
#levi ackerman#levi x reader#levi#levi attack on titan#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman attack on titan#levi ackerman fanfic#aot#aot levi#aot fanfiction#attack on titan fanfic#attack on titan fanfiction#shingeki no kyojin
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My sibling in fandom, I keep forgetting that I followed you for your Silmarillion art from my deviantart days, and then every time you post some art, I'm like OH MY GOSH ITS GREENAPPLEFREAK!!!!!! FROM DEVIANTART!!!!!
never fails to give me so much seratonin.
Thank you for your fandom service.
Hello my beloved! I'm so glad when I hear I managed to drag someone from deviantart to the crazy bog that is tumblr, makes me feel like a cryptid!
(=`ω´=)
have a small sketch of Maedhros! I was drawing this when I realized the armor was just silly! but I liked the hair so
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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#mis trazos#it takes me months but eventually the replies come out#٩(。•́‿•̀。)۶#maedhros#feanorians#tolkien world#silmarillion#I might redo this but with an actual functional armor later#or I might forget#it's a 50/50 chance
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chris’s brothers catch him and sunshine!reader making out.
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“they’re eventually gonna come back, y’know,” you giggle, resting your arms around chris’s shoulders as you shift on his lap. chris tilts his head back against the seat, his ceruleans glinting with amusement. “yeah, eventually. key word being eventually,” he replies, his hands lightly tracing patterns on your hips.
you glance out the window, eyes wandering over to the front door of the triplets’ apartment building, bouncing slightly on his lap in excitement. “honestly, i’m not even mad they’re taking forever. this just gives me more time to plan. i’ve got three secret santa gifts to shop for today—this is, like, my super bowl.”
chris’s fingers drum lazily against your waist as you shift on his lap, your attention drifting to the apartment building in front of you. for some reason, nick and matt are taking forever to come downstairs, but you can’t even bring yourself to care. the extra time feels like a gift in itself—more room to brainstorm, more time to plan.
your thoughts keep circling back to the three secret santa exchanges you got yourself looped up into for this year, each one more exciting than the last. first, there’s the one with the triplets and their friends. you somehow managed to draw chris’s name, and the irony has you practically buzzing with excitement.
you’ve been dying to shop for him, though you’ve also spent way too much time second-guessing your ideas. something funny? something heartfelt? maybe a mix of both? you want to find the perfect gift—something that’ll light up his face in that way only chris can. the thought of seeing his reaction is half the fun. honestly, you really just want to make him happy.
then there’s your friends’ exchange. that one’s a little easier, filled with inside jokes and personal traditions. you’ve already got a solid idea for that one—something cute and maybe a tad bit chaotic, just like your group.
and finally, your coworkers. that one’s tricky, mostly because you don’t know everyone as well as you’d like, but you’re determined to make it work. you’ve been piecing together ideas for days, scrolling through endless gift guides and pinterest boards, searching for something thoughtful without being over the top. you’re really glad you didn’t draw your managers name because that lady hits a nerve you didn’t even know existed—but that’s a story for another time.
chris’s hands pause on your hips, breaking you out of your thoughts. he tilts his head back to look at you, his blue eyes glinting with quiet amusement. “doesn’t look like they’ll be coming out any time soon, so…”
the brunette’s words trail off, but the playful glint in his eyes is enough to make your heart skip a beat. he leans in, closing the distance between you with a soft breath that sends a shiver down your spine. his lips find yours in a slow, teasing kiss, gentle at first, like he’s savoring the moment. his hands, still resting on your hips, tighten ever so slightly, pulling you closer, his touch warm against the fabric of your jeans.
to say that you aren’t the slightest bit nervous, well that’d be straight up bluff. you’ve been dating chris for a good seven months now and you guys haven’t done anything more than kiss—the thought of doing more makes sweat pool in the middle of your palms, though you’re not entirely sure if in front of his apartment in your jeep is the ideal place to bang.
the kiss deepens almost effortlessly. you can feel the change in the air as he presses his soft lips a little firmer against yours. his hand slides down your side, fingers trailing over your waist, before sliding lower, his palm coming to rest against the curve of your ass. the movement is slow, deliberate, as if he’s trying to gauge your response.
then, his kiss turns hungry, more urgent, as he tilts you back slightly, encouraging you to lean into him as he reaches down the side of the passenger seat to recline the seat back a little more. you can feel the heat between you grow, the way his lips move against yours with more intensity, like he can’t get enough. his hand on your hip moves to your back, pressing you flush against him as if he can’t bear the space between you. the kiss is messy now, breathless and frantic.
you find yourself responding, one hand slipping up to his neck, fingers threading through his hair as you tug him closer. his grip on your ass tightens, pulling you even further into him, and you can feel the heat of his body through the thin layers of your clothes. the sensation leaves you dizzy, a quiet, satisfied moan escaping your lips as you press closer to him, lost in the moment. any thoughts of his brothers, shopping for gifts, and the mall are long gone, somewhere discarded in the lost and found box in the back of your minds.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!
well, spoken too soon.
you freeze, and chris freezes too, his hand still resting on your waist, his gaze flickering toward the window. you follow his line of sight and immediately recognize the faces of nick and matt standing outside the car—nick, who looks totally unfazed and matt, who’s head is down but judging by the way his body is shaking, you can tell he’s cracking up.
clearing your throat, you climb off chris’s body and make your way over to the driver’s side. quickly clicking on the buttons on the side panel, unlocking the car doors with shaky fingers. as soon as the doors click open, nick begins to talk, stepping forward with matt following closely behind.
“move to the back, kissy face freak, i called shotgun while your ass was still in bed,” the oldest triplets shoos away the youngest one as he watches him climb into the back. “we weren’t even gone that long and you two are in here sucking each other lips off.”
nick begins to discuss their secret santa shopping plan as you start the car, the wheels gliding smoothing across the road as the vehicle moves. you nod along as he speaks, but your mind is still buzzing from the rush you had earlier. and you’re more than a hundred percent sure matt still has that stupid grin on his face too.
the eldest triplet connects his phone to your jeep’s bluetooth, mumbling something about how he wants to play his music after being tortured from chris and matt’s playlists when the three stepped out to grab a few groceries—you’re not entirely too sure what he says after that when you catch a glimpse of chris’s gaze in your rear view mirror, the two of you exchanging embarrassed smiles before your attention goes back on the road.
messages from brie 🗯️ : once again, i am way too sure that this is over 100 words. this was really cute and fun to write 🙂↕️ i hope you all enjoyyyyy, i need to kiss this man asap or i’ll —
✷ tags : @sugrhigh @et6rnalsun @metanouias @eternaldecisions @sirenedeslily @freshloveee @lov3bug @cosmicanakin @chrissturnsfav @graciebrams
#✸ ˖ ˚˳ 𓂃 secretlocket.#sunshine!reader#chris sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets x reader#christopher sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo
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good boy.
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art donaldson x reader (wc: 2.9k)
summary: as Art’s personal physical therapist, it’s your job to fix what Tashi has torn apart, by whatever means necessary. or in which Art just needs some TLC
warnings: 18+ smut, it could be worse tbh, mentions of disordered eating
author’s note: i’m back ig?? im out of uni for the summer and challengers has me in a chokehold. Art Donaldson the man that you are
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You're standing just within earshot of the doorway, passing a sanitary wipe over one of the tables in the athlete treatment room when you hear the door abruptly open. Tashi storms in with a purpose and Art trails meekly behind her. Even if you had been clueless to how the match had gone rather than on the sidelines beside Tashi not even twenty minutes ago, you could have guessed by the hard line of her mouth that Art was in for it. Not that her displeased scowl was much different from her usual scowl, but you'd been around long enough to know the difference.
She stops abruptly, and Art heels obediently as Tashi turns around to face him. "I need you to tell me when you're going to fucking get it together so that I can stop wasting my time."
Weary and sweat soaked, Art just stares at her with that pitiful look on his face and says nothing in reply. His blue eyes solemnly take in her harsh disappointment as though beyond used to it. At this point it's not all that foreign to you either.
"You may as well be fucking asleep out there," she snaps.
This time his mouth opens. "I- I'm just tired-" he begins, although there's hardly any argue to his voice at all.
"No, I'm tired, Art," Tashi interjects. "Do you have any idea how much fucking work I've put into getting you back onto the court this past year?! I've done everything! The least you could do go out there and try to act like I've done anything for you at all!"
Art swallows, the slight frown on his face deepening. "I am. I just- I don't-"
Before he can even finish his sentence. The open palm of Tashi's hand connects with his cheek as she pops the left side of his face. Art closes his mouth. You pretend to concentrate on wiping down the table. It's not the first time you've witnessed one of these conversations but it still feels private, like you shouldn't be here. You keep wiping the table.
Understanding that anything else he says is only going to make Tashi angrier, Art resigns to once again watching her in silence. His blue eyes are sad. The usually fair skin of his cheek is tinted pink where she popped him. Although it wasn't very hard, you're sure it still hurt him all the same.
"Quit wasting my time," is all she says before she finally turns and leaves, walking right past you and out the other door. You hold your breath as she passes you. Art watches her go but makes no move to follow. You release an audible sigh. It's been a frustrating day for everyone. As Art's personal trainer, physical therapist, and close friend, you felt every loss, every ache and pain, every bad play. And there seemed to be a lot of those lately.
Art is still standing there, watching the closed door that Tashi left though.
Not knowing how to break the silence, you finally pat the freshly sanitized treatment table. "C'mon," you call gently, as though beckoning to a wounded dog.
It takes a moment for him to budge, but eventually he does, his disheartened spirit apparent in the way he walks over. Used to the usual routine, he tugs his damp shirt off over his head as he takes a seat, the lean muscles of his torso flexing as he does so. You allow yourself to ogle at him, only for a brief moment before stepping in between the bracket of his knees. Gently, you cradle his chin, tipping his head back to look up at you as your thumb smooths over the redness of his cheek. His blue eyes blink up at you, sad and dog-like.
"It wasn't terrible," you reassure him. "You had surgery six months ago. You're still getting your feet back underneath you. Most people wouldn't have come back." You're right. The still-pink scars on his shoulder are still fresh on your mind. The stitches weren't even out before Tashi had him in physical therapy. Even though his medical team had released him, it was still a bit early to start doing rehab so soon after surgery, Art's comfort being your biggest concern. But when Tashi wants something, she gets it.
Wordlessly, Art sighs, the weight of his head settling into your palm as he finally lets go of the tension he'd been carrying. It was always like this. You fixing what Tashi had torn apart. You understood where Tashi was coming from. Art needed a firm voice in his training, and you had a lot of respect for the way she put her foot down and never let up, not even once. But there was only so many times you could kick a dog while he was down.
So if Art needed someone to coddle him, you would coddle him.
He trusts you. He needs you, is what Tashi had told you when she asked you to stay on as his trainer full time. The three of you had been in the same year at Stanford all those years ago, Tashi and Art on the tennis team and you helping out as a student trainer as part of a class requirement. Three peas in a pod, the trio of you were. Of course then they both graduated, leaving you to finish up your schooling, meanwhile Art set off to go pro.
A few years later, once Tashi officially took on the position as Art's coach, she began building his team, and that's where you came in. You were hesitant at first.
'I already lost to you once, Tashi. I won't come in second to you again.'
She had paused on the other end of the line. Back in your Stanford days, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that you were head over heels in love with the blonde tennis player. But loving Art was like accepting the participation ribbon for a game you knew you weren't going to win in the first place. It was like standing next to the podium, just lucky enough to be included in the picture while Tashi and tennis took first and second place. And so you let him go.
'I'm not asking you to. This is different.'
Your hand slips from his face, and he forces his eyes open.
“Have you eaten?" you ask, stepping away in order to put some distance between the two of you and look for the granola bars that you keep especially for him. The gels were good sources of quick fuel in between sets, but they were hardly enough to even begin to make up for the calories he burned while playing.
Slowly, Art shakes his head, but he makes no move to take the snack from your hand when you offer it to him. Ever since his injury, nutrition became all the more important. So much to the point that every single thing that he consumed was mapped out to the exact calorie. Although he would never admit it, any sort of change in this routine made him incredibly anxious. Some days it was better not to cause him the anxiety than to force him.
Today, you insistently hold out the bar until he begrudgingly takes it from your hand. You don't move until you've seen him tear open the package and take a bite.
"Were you still feeling tight?" you ask as you walk around the table, stopping at the slouch of his turned back. You reach out to grasp at the joint of his neck and shoulder, your thumb smoothing over the kinesiology tape that's peeling away at the base of his neck.
He half turns his head to glance back at you. "You watched the match. You tell me."
His response is meant to be snippy, but it comes out more defeated than anything. To be fair, you've been his trainer long enough to know that if something was bothering him physically, you would have picked up on it.
"I want to hear it from you."
"I felt fine."
Your left hand follows suit on the other side of his neck, and you use both of your thumbs to apply pressure to what you assume will be a tense spot along the upper part of his traps. Predictably, Art groans at the attention. The muscles of his back contract as he fights the urge to shake you off. Relaxing the muscle hurts as much as it feels good. Besides his obvious discomfort, the rest of his body has gone lax under your touch. His shoulders have dropped at least an inch, and his chin has fallen to rest against his chest.
"Finish your granola bar," you reprimand him, your firm fingers working across his back until you find another spot that nearly has him jerking away. He releases a whine but obediently takes another bite of the bar. This time he finishes it before you have to remind him again.
You spend a few more minutes torturing him before you're satisfied that a majority of the tension has left his shoulders.
"Okay, good boy," you murmur, leaning forward so that your chest is close enough to brush against his back. One of your hands trails up to squeeze the back of his neck reassuringly.
You're close enough to hear him swallow at the name. The skin on the nape of his neck shivers despite how hot he still is from the match.
"Was I?" he asks timidly. "Good today?"
'I can be his coach. Or I can be the person he cries to after a bad day. But I can't be both. That's why he needs you."
Without removing your hand from his neck, you walk around the table so you're standing in front of him. Art widens the spread of his legs so that you can stand between them. His chin is still pressed to his chest, blue eyes focused on the ground.
"Art," is all you say, shifting your grip on his neck to tug lightly at his golden blonde hair. At your voice, he lifts his head just enough to look up at you through the pale wisps of his eyelashes. The irises of his blue eyes shine are wet with uncertainty.
Your fingers loosen their grip to allow your nails to scratch at his scalp. "You're good, Art. You'll always be good."
Art twists his head to nuzzle his cheek along the inside of your outstretched arm. His lips kiss the crook of your elbow. He swallows again. "Even if I don't play tennis?"
You can tell the question's been bothering him, eating at his nerves, and messing up his game. You know him well enough to know that retirement isn't what he wants, not really. At least not right now. What he wants is the reassurance that it's going to be okay if he can't swing the comeback.
"Look at me."
He lingers a moment longer with his lips pressed lovingly against your skin before he reluctantly shifts his gaze up to you. His look is anticipatory but reserved, as if to preemptively conceal his disappointment should you choose to crush his heart with your answer.
His fear is understandable. Art's relationship with Tashi has always been entirely built off of his tennis career. By being the driving force behind his success, Tashi has vicariously lived out the life she would have had had her injury never happened. Without tennis, Art has nothing left to offer her. He knows that if he gives up tennis, he loses Tashi.
Your relationship with Art was a little less conditional. Hell, you'd been in love with him since the first time you'd laid eyes on him at Stanford. You can still picture him standing there on the court, barely nineteen, scrawny, nervous smile, backwards cap over his strawberry blonde hair. Before he was the Art Donaldson. But when Tashi had stepped into the picture, you figured that was where your fairytale ended.
"I don't love you because of tennis. I love you because you're kind, and thoughtful, and you're passionate about what you do." You smile a bit before adding, "And you're my good boy."
The name turns him bashful again, and he's quick to turn and hide his smiling face against your arm, only the flushed tips of his ears visible. "[Y/n]," he mumbles, likely meaning to be threatening, but it doesn't come out that way.
Art Donaldson lived to be praised.
You laugh, pulling him closer so that his face is held against your chest. The hand that you don't have threaded through his hair trails up the muscle of his defined quad. "You're my good boy. Aren't you, baby?"
Art whines, squirming when your hand reaches the apex of his thigh and hovers over the forming bugle of his shorts. He's not quite there yet, his dick only half chubbed up in interest, but given the day that he's had, you won't make him wait.
"Please?" he mumbles, his face still buried into your collarbone, as if attempting to curling into you, like a small child needing their parent to hold them for comfort.
You rake your nails lightly up the inside of his thigh. "What, baby?"
Not only did Art liked to be praised, but he was masochist even on his worst days.
"Want you to touch me," he mumbles, his voice muffled by your shirt. "Please."
Your hand still scratching through his hair, you press a kiss to the side of his head, unable to suppress your smile at his timid politeness and how it never seems to fail him. The only time he ever resembled anything remotely voracious was on the court.
Palm finding his tented shorts, you cup him through the fabric. Art responds immediately to your touch, his hips shifting further into your grasp. You continue to pet him through his shorts, appreciating the way you can feel him actively responding to your touch.
His nails dig into the padding of the treatment table when you give his now fully hard dick a less than sympathetic squeeze. His breath is hot as he pants against your collarbone, alternating between laving open mouthed kisses to your skin and whining when you pause fondling him just to feel his hips rut up into your palm.
Art was so in control on the tennis court, that often after a match, putting the control into someone else's hands was just what he needed.
When his hips start to stutter, you ease up but continue to stroke him through his shorts. The front of his shorts are damp with the musk of residual sweat and precum.
His breath is shallow—anticipatory.
"Gunna come?" you ask softly, speaking into the blonde mess of his hair, cradling him. He right there, you can tell by the lackluster buck of his hips, his building fatigue, and the change in his breathing.
"Can I? —Please?" Art asks breathily. He hiccups out the last part, his voice catching.
"You know you don't have to ask."
There's a brief pause, as if coming to the realization, before he meekly murmurs, "I know.
It should be sad really, his unwavering obedience, but there are two sides to Art, two polar extremes. On the court, every match, every set, every debilitating second is up to him. No one else can help him out there, and up until about a year ago, he played like it. That was the side of Art Donaldson that Tashi wanted. After the match is a different story. In private, Art needed someone to do the thinking for him, to pull him into a reality where he could believe that it didn't matter whether he won or lost. Tashi had not the sympathy nor the patience for that kind of fragility.
Art comes with a brief cry into your chest, his body arching into yours. Your hand palms at his pulsing dick until he's oversensitive and pulling away. When you relent, the front of his shorts are sticky and wet.
Finally, Art lifts his face from the safety of your chest. His blue eyes are glossed over, but it's an improvement from the detached look they held ten minutes ago. His cheeks are flushed, a mixture of his own embarrassment and satisfaction.
You can't help the soft smile that creeps onto your face at the look of him, and immediately Art is abashedly trying to hide his face again, his own smile starting to appear. Before he can, you bring your hands back up to cradle his face, thumbs wiping away the wetness from under his eyes. This time he lets you.
His eyes study your face for a second, admiring you, appreciating the love he has for you.
“I don’t want to play tennis anymore.”
You can’t tell if it’s more of a statement or a confession. Either way, you know he’s telling you the absolute truth.
“Okay,” you reply softly, not hint of judgement in your voice. Maybe some disappointment, but that was understandable.
Retirement would be a kindness. Art would finally put back on some healthy weight, start smiling again, put on a real, actual smile. You could already see it, a nice house for the two of you to settle down in, with a picket fence and a dog in the backyard, the kind of things the two of you would have never had time for on tour.
Tennis had brought the two of you together, but it wouldn’t end you.
#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson#art donaldson x you#art donaldson x y/n#challengers#challengers smut#art donaldson smut#challengers imagine#challengers x reader
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SAY "DADA" 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, nanami kento x fem! reader
ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. toji cries but he doesn't admit it bye
note. i just spent a good hour watching the "glimpse of us" parents-baby trend, it's so cute. i just had to make something family themed for the jjk men :( i'm so sorry for the lack of updates, i just finished work and boy— it was stressful.
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
"come on, little guy . . . say dada, da . . . da!" gojo nodded his head slowly, in his grasp stood his one year old son.
all he got in return was a loud strained laugh from the little boy, "it's okay, baby. take it slow, come on, dada . . . da . . ." the blue eyed male softly spells out the word.
"satoru, you've been trying for an hour now." you informed him, eyeing the father-son duo every now and then, "he's going to get it eventually . . ."
gojo chuckled, "i know, baby. 'm just so excited, what if he said his first words when 'm out on a mission," a sad smile etched onto his lips as he cradled the baby in his hold.
"dada!"
it took gojo a few seconds to process what his son just uttered in excitement. slowly, the corner of his lips tugged upwards in happiness — gojo cheers loudly, nuzzling his face into your son's little belly, making him craze out in pure euphoria.
"you just said your first word, good job, buddy! 'm so proud of you," gojo muffled out into the baby's tummy, "daddy's so proud of you."
gojo then faced you, "his first word is dada, i'm going to cry . . ."
to which he did, sniffling loudly — making the little boy imitate him, scrunching his face into a big frown before wailing out a loud cry. hearing your baby cry, gojo softly hushed him, patting his back, "no, no, baby. daddy's crying of happiness, not sadness, please don't cry."
"aren't you two just the cutest?" you asked, kissing the baby on his chubby cheek — calming him down almost immediately. his loud cries ceasing down under your touch.
"we are." gojo chuckled, nose raging red from sniffling mucus.
"please get rid of your snot, satoru . . ."
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
"come on, dada. say it." toji mutters, pulling on megumi's little cheek — gently, and the baby seemingly annoyed, swats off his father's giant fingers.
toji scoffed, "huh, wonder where y' got that attitude from."
you eyed him, "what do you mean? megumi's exactly just like you — i carry him for nine months and he ends up being a copy of you," you chuckled, ruffling megumi's hair.
the young ten month old baby crawled his way over to you, settling himself on his lap, eyeing his father sharply, "what're y'looking at, huh?"
instinctively you hit toji's bicep gently, "stop that."
"'m not doing anything . . ." toji replies back, rolling his eyes before crossing his arms, "stupid baby."
"dada!" megumi shrieks out, pointing his small finger accusingly at toji, a cute glare looming over his dark eyes, "dada!"
toji blinked once. twice. thrice, and he ended up scoffing, looking away from both you and megumi, "he said his first word, and it's me," toji mutters into his skin, clamping his palm over his lips as his elbow propped down onto the couch's hand rest.
"good job, 'gumi!" you cheered, raising the boy up in the air, kissing his cheek which made the baby erupt in small laughter.
megumi crunched his legs happily, yelling out gibberish with a mix of "dada dada!"
"that's right, dada!" you parrot happily, gently hopping with megumi in your arms. eyeing toji who had been silent, "toji, are you okay?"
he grunted, brushing his face with his hands, "do i not look okay?"
"did you cry?" you ask.
toji grunted yet again in disdain, "why would i cry because the brat said his first word?" he did.
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
nanami sat on the floor cross-legged with his eleven month old daughter on his lap as he scanned the newspaper. at every page, his daughter didn't miss every spot on the dull colored paper, pointing at the paper and muttering out incoherent words.
"mhm, that's terrible news, isn't it?" he replies, sipping on his coffee mug.
you emerged from behind the bedroom door, hair disheveled, "good morning," you mumble out, wiping the back of your finger over your eyes.
"dada!"
you froze and eyed your daughter, and nanami did too. his head looked down onto the young girl in amusement, his gaze softening, "your first word . . ." he whispers, carrying the baby into his strong arms.
"you just said your first word, baby!" your raspy morning voice chirped, it was as if your exhaustion had disappeared in a heap of moments and you trotted down the ground, approaching the father-daughter.
"i'm so proud of you," nanami gently placed a kiss on top of his daughter's head, cradling her small body.
you were pulled into a hug by nanami, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and he pulled you to his side — his cheek leaning on your head in content, "good morning."
"dada dada!" your daughter cheered happily, patting nanami's face with her small hands.
"mhm, i'm dada, baby." he mumbles, letting the young girl do as she likes. you cooed softly at the sight, wrapping an arm around his waist.
a good morning it is.
© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#fluff#gojo satoru#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x reader#nanami kento#nanami fluff#nanami kento x reader#toji fushiguro#toji fluff#toji fushiguro x reader
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a job well done (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)
summary: long-term admirer, recent tutor — you find out eddie's failing gym. in an ode to help him, your expertise expands beyond just textbooks — to your fortune, he teaches you something you've been dying to learn too
contents: 18+, smut!!!, porn with plot, lots of ball action <3, oral (m receiving, mentions of f receiving), pet names and praise (baby, good girl), somewhat-inexperienced!eddie, tutor!reader an: i made an $8k mistake irl so heres 8k words that i wrote to forget about it (just kidding (not abt the mistake, that's very real) i started writing this in july 2023 but recently rewrote most of it to make it into a big ol' one shot-ish thing) wc: 8.5k
“You’re failing gym?” you gasp, jaw dropping as your eyes scan over his report.
“No!” he replies, trying to steal the envelope and its contents from your hands. You turn your body just in time for him to grasp at nothing but air.
You started tutoring Eddie about a month into the semester. He’s been a willing participant for the most part and that’s why when he kept coming up with excuse after excuse for why he didn’t have his midterm report you knew something was up.
You took it upon yourself to do some investigating. Nothing invasive, just when you got to his place for a regular tutoring session, you decided to look through his bag while he was in the bathroom. On his bedroom floor, filing through the bags endless messy contents, you eventually came across the familiarly coloured yellow envelope and helped yourself to a peek at what he was keeping a secret from you.
Mere moments later, he was back. He immediately noticed what you had in your hands and crashed to the floor trying to get it away from you. Evidently, a failed attempt.
“You have a — oh god, not just a D, a D minus, Eddie.”
“That’s not failing,” he mumbles under his breath. You wave him off before dropping his report to the floor in front of you. He grabs it, crumples it into a ball, and petulantly tosses it to the other side of his room.
“You never even told me you were taking gym.”
“Cause how’re you supposed to help with gym?”
“The tests! There’s a whole health portion, I could’ve been helping you with that,” you say, getting worked up over it. Eddie’s been doing so well, this was truly blindsiding.
“Yeah… cause I really want help from you with the health portion,” he grumbles sarcastically.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means exactly what it sounds like it means,” he shrugs.
If you weren’t paying attention, you might think he was angry — maybe even being mean. Luckily, you’re always paying attention to Eddie Munson, and you see the way his face flushes to a bright, crimson red. His annoyance is actually just embarrassment — which is good — at least he has some level of remorse for his failing grade. You can work with that. You take a breath, exhaling it slowly, forcing yourself to calm down.
“Show me what you’re working on.”
“No,” he shakes his head, reaching into his bag, shuffling around some papers before tossing a heavy textbook your way. “Let’s just do math.”
“No, you have a B minus in math now, that doesn’t need help. You need help in gym.” you reply, tossing the textbook back at him.
“I don’t.”
“Eddie, you do.”
Sitting up to your knees, you reach into his bag once more, taking out his binder and dropping it to the floor in a pointed thump. He mumbles some kind of disagreement, spine going stiff with his hesitancy to let you go through his stuff some more, but he doesn’t make any attempts to physically stop you.
You flip through the disorganization that you’ve told him countless times to organize until you come across a diagram of a penis and a vagina. Bingo.
“Told you,” he mumbles, scoffing to himself.
“Told me what?”
“Why would you want to help me study that?”
“Uh— cause it’s part of your class and I don’t want you to fail,” you say matter of factly. “Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.”
Bright red continues to flourish across his skin, affecting the apples of his cheeks all the way down to his throat. He turns bashful, eyes locking down on the carpet.
Eddie’s shy — not often, but he is. You wouldn’t think so from the way he acts at school and in most public atmospheres, but get him in a room, one-on-one, and he’s all blushed cheeks and shy touches. It’s sweet and it’s one of your favourite things about him — but you don’t have time for sweet shyness right now. He’s failing gym for christ sake — gym.
“So, how do you want to do this?” you ask, slapping your hands to your thighs. Eddie startles, jolting before his wide eyes find yours.
“Do what?”
“Study this,” you motion to the diagram on the floor separating the two of you.
“I— I’m not… we’re not—“
His eye contact goes rogue again, diverting anywhere else — everywhere else that isn’t you. Shy, shy, shy. Too shy. More shy than normal. And you have an inkling that it has to do with the subject of the conversation at hand.
“Oh my god, Eddie. This is basic human anatomy. I think we’re grown up enough to handle a little penis and vagina,” you state, tacking on a laugh.
You get a hint of Eddie's true personality beyond his shyness — it emerges through a quirk of his lip, the corner of it tweaking upwards into the hint of a smirk.
“A little penis?” He parrots, his smirk fully emerging now. This boy.
“Cue cards? Should we do cue cards?”
He groans, body deflating. “You know I hate cue cards.”
“Okay, so let’s just go over the parts for now, then we can move on and do something else.”
You clear out a bigger area on the floor, making space for your study session. Eddie helps by kicking back stray articles of clothing and then picking out what looks like spilled weed from the carpet and collecting it in the palm of his hand. You’re a touch more productive, taping little pieces of paper over the diagram labels. When you’re done, you sit up admiring your work. Eddie stands, dropping his little handful of greenery onto his desk before sitting down on his bed.
“Do you want to do it up there or down here?” You ask.
The slight double entendre isn’t lost on you, you heard it before you even said it. Now knowing how shy Eddie is about this stuff, you couldn’t help but push your luck, and the blush that spreads across his cheeks makes it entirely worth it, especially while you deadpan and pretend you have no clue.
“I’ll come down there—“ He says and you watch him physically recoil as his words set in. You resist your laughter.
“Come, Eddie. Faster,” you tease, laughter starting to bubble up. A smile breaks through his embarrassment.
“Jesus Christ, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? You like seeing me suffer?”
“Me? Teasing you on purpose? Never.”
With a shake of his head, he joins you on the floor, leaving a large gap between the two of you. “Can we not do this, I already know this stuff.”
“Oh yeah? Eddie Munson is well versed in human anatomy?”
“I’m — I’m not going to answer that,” he crosses his arms.
With a clap of your hands, you ignore his pouty demeanor. “Okay! Let’s just do this, the quicker you memorize everything the quicker we can not do this.”
With both of the diagrams set up, you give him the option of starting with the penis or vagina first. He chooses the easy answer, opting to go with the penis.
One by one you point out each part of the penis, asking him for the anatomically correct name. You quickly understand why he’s failing.
“Okay, and this one is…?”
“The head,” he states.
“I mean… sure,” you nod hesitantly — “but the little arrow is pointing there — the glans. This one?”
You continue going through the chart, teaching Eddie the proper names for everything. When you finally graduate to the diagram of the vagina, Eddie is physically squirming in his spot.
“Eddie, relax. Seriously. We’ve all seen a vagina before.”
“It’s so fucking hot in here, are you hot?” He groans, standing up and tripping his way to the window, slamming it open with a grunt.
He’s barely made his way back before you have a thought.
“You’ve seen a vagina before, right?”
He freezes — just for a moment, but you catch it. On his way to return to his spot on the floor he pauses, then continues moving as if you haven’t asked him a question. When he sits, you quirk a brow.
“Yeah!” He answers. His voice tunes so high, it begs to crack.
You nod skeptically. You wouldn’t say he’s lying per se, but something seems off. Something that you’re interested in getting to the bottom of.
“Let’s take a break, okay?” You offer.
“Yeah, a break’s, uh — good.” He exhales, letting out a breath of relief. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, fanning it in and out, getting some air flow on his skin. It’s very suspicious and you have to assume —
“So, you’ve never seen a vagina,” you say.
Eddie’s eyes go wide. “I have! I’m not a virgin.”
“You’re squirming like one.”
“I’m not!”
“There’s nothing wrong —”
“I’m not!” He says much louder, cutting you off.
You believe him, seeing the full depth of sincerity in his amusedly large, and overly serious eyes.
“Okay,” you nod.
“I’m not,” he insists once more, tone leaning towards stern.
“I believe you, Eddie.”
The two of you sit quietly in your respective spots. You could busy yourself with getting some more studying stuff ready, but somehow — even though there was some verbal finality — this conversation doesn’t seem over.
And with an inhale from Eddie, it’s not.
“I’ve just never been like…” he pauses, thinking, “I’ve just never been all up in there.” He makes a crude motion with his hands, both palms splayed out flat in your direction, moving outwards like he’s spreading something out.
“You’ve never eaten a girl out before?”
“What are we doing?” He says, dropping his head into his hands, scrubbing at his cheeks with both palms.
“You don’t have to answer. Seriously, if I’m really making you uncomfortable, I’ll stop. Swear.”
His chest inflates with a deep breath, then his head pops up. “I have but only for like a minute, in the dark, parked outside of the hideout after a gig,” he confesses. You raise your brows, surprised.
“You work quickly. A minute, that’s impressive.”
“No… Jesus, no,” he winces. “I fucking wish. We got interrupted and… yeah she never wanted to hang out after.”
“Oh,” you hum. “That sucks.” You tilt your head at him, frowning apologetically.
“Yeah. She, uh, I’m pretty sure she had a boyfriend but I didn’t know when we… yeah.” He concludes his confession with a shrug before sitting back to lean against the side of his bed.
“That really sucks. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he says, tacking on a laugh. It’s not a nervous laugh. It’s genuine and you take his lack of nervousness as permission to continue the conversation.
“So… Do you have a tactic?”
“Tactic?”
“Yeah. Like, most guys use the alphabet on the clit thing, which is awful by the way, don’t do that.”
“I think…” he raises his brows. “I think, maybe, just being overzealous is my thing. I don’t really know — I haven't done it enough to have a tactic.”
“Overzealous is good…” you nod, “as long as it’s strategic.”
Eddie meets your gaze. He’s intrigued — “Elaborate?” he asks.
“Like, sure if you want to go to town and eat the pussy, go for it, but the only place it really counts is the clit — of course everything else is nice too, but the clit is definitely where it matters,” you nod to yourself, punctuating your statement. “And—” you add on, raising your hand, bringing together two of your fingers to mime the curling motions of getting fingered. “I like when they use their fingers too. It's a lot better like that.”
Eddie goes silent. He looks like he’s thinking, maybe even committing your words to memory— but it’s an odd look he has on his face. One you’ve never seen before from him.
“Sorry, did I say too much?” You laugh, trying to diffuse. Eddie looks at you, shaking his head in amused disbelief.
“Why the fuck are you tutoring me in going down on a girl right now?” He laughs.
You smile, appreciating his amusement. Tilting your head boastfully, you accept his comment like a compliment. “Just a natural born teacher, I guess,” you tease.
He nods, humming agreeingly. He doesn’t say anything more but you’ve got a handful of curiosities burning through your back pocket, and when in rome…
“Are we done with this conversation,” you ask, “or can we keep going ‘cause I might have a few questions for you?”
“Hasn't this whole conversation already been an interrogation of my experiences?”
“But this might be your only opportunity to teach me something, Edward.” You jet out your lower lip, pouting it, rounding your eyes at him — trying your best to keep this going.
He rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance.
“Are you about to ask me if I can move my dick without my hands, because the answer is yes but it’s not full control.”
“That’s not what I was gonna ask, but very cool.”
“Sorry. That’s usually what girls ask.”
That has been a curiosity but your questions… your questions are much more… sophisticated?
“So can I?” you ask.
“Can you?”
“Ask you questions?”
He bites his lip, pointedly making you sweat it out. With a dramatic sigh, he gives in. “Go for it.”
You sit up straighter, very pleased with his answer.
“Balls,” you state. Eddie’s eyes widen immediately — you ignore the regret that flashes across his face. “Do you like them being touched? Every time I’ve done anything with them, the guy kind of, like, recoils and it feels like I did something wrong.”
“Jesus…” he clears his throat with an awkward laugh. “You’re really going for the big questions, huh?”
“The big questions?” You raise your eyebrows suggestively.
“No, Jesus I’m not implying my balls are — holy shit. My balls are normal sized, that’s not what I meant.” He continues to laugh through his embarrassment, cheeks heating right back up to that very cute, bright, red colour.
“I’m just teasing you, Eddie. I’m sure your balls are lovely and perfectly normal sized.”
He hums appreciatively but it gets stuck in his throat, coming out as a high pitched croak. He clears his voice, nodding as he raises a hand to the back of his neck, wringing it nervously.
“You don’t have to answer, but I would appreciate knowing,” you say, softly, sympathetic — leaning into apologetic. He nods again, and you can tell the gears are spinning in his head as he thinks over his answer.
“They’re just… sensitive,” he swallows. “But… I do like them being played with, or sucked, or licked… or whatever.”
His eyes focus on the far wall, not out of nervousness or shyness this time, but more like he’s giving his words some real thought. You appreciate it and wait patiently for him to continue.
“I guess I would have to say that it’s personal preference, so ask?” he continues unsurely, eyes still focusing elsewhere. “I mean, no guy is ever gonna be mad if you ask to put their balls in your mouth — or… whatever you want to do with them.” He looks at you with wide eyes as he suddenly gets nervous again. You wave him off, letting him silently know that ‘balls in your mouth’ is not an offense to you.
“Could you cum from someone playing with your balls?”
“Holy shit,” he gasps, laughing. His hand that was wringing his neck drops to his lap in a heavy thud. At the same time, he brings up both knees, hugging them halfways to his chest as he mulls over his answer. “Um? Maybe? But, I think a big part of it is a visual thing — like, it adds to the hotness when they’re into the balls?” He finishes, adding an unsure inflection to the end of his remark. You nod, narrowing your eyes into a squint as you absorb what he’s saying.
“So it doesn’t feel good?”
“It does,” he quickly corrects, “just anything on the head feels way better.”
“Okay… good to know.” You nod, moving on. “And dirty talk. You really like that? Like, when the girl’s going on and on about your ‘big cock in her tight little pussy’, is it not weird?”
“Jesus, you really aren’t holding back with these questions.” He smiles through the blotchy redness growing down his neck all the way to the collar of his shirt.
“Tell me to stop and I will,” you promise, dipping your face lower to catch Eddie’s gaze. He holds it for a second, before letting his eyes roam the room.
“Dirty talk is hot, obviously, but… it’s not when it’s rehearsed shit like that. It makes it feel like they’re performing — and maybe I’m just doing a piss poor job and they are performing — I don’t know, but I’d rather hear about what you actually like that I’m doing. Even if you’re telling me to go faster or harder or whatever. That’s fucking hot.”
“Alright, so be genuine. Cool,” you nod.
“You done with questions?” He meets your gaze with raised brows for a fraction of a brave second before quickly looking away.
The thing is, you’re not done.
“So, hypothetically, if someone you didn’t like played with only your balls, and it wasn’t hot— like nothing about it was hot, would you still cum?”
He doesn’t give you the same surprised initial shock as he did with all the other questions. This time he just lets out a long, evenly staggered breath through puffed out cheeks.
“I think…” He hugs his knees closer to his chest, rubbing both his palms along his shins quickly, filling the silence with the sounds of skin on denim.
You can see the edge of his words in his expression, like he wants to say something but is holding it back. Whatever it is, you wait patiently — you do sit up a little straighter though, eagerly leaning inwards, listening with baited breath to his quiet, pensive hum.
His lips twitch, mouth opening then closing. With a loud exhale, he lets go of his shins, letting his knees drop from their upright position, and with that, his resolve breaks.
“Fuck it” he curses — “Probably. Sometimes I think that the wind blowing the wrong way could make me cum. Like, I’m fighting for my fucking life to not get hard right now.”
He ends his speed-run confession with a pant, chest shallowly heaving with each breath. Excited wings beat inside your chest, dipping down to your belly as you absorb what he's just said to you.
“Really?” you ask, blinking wide eyes at him. His breathing evens out, and he meets your gaze.
“Yeah,” he shrugs shyly — cutely.
“You know I like you, right?”
His face falls. “What?” His brows press together, furrowing with confusion and you really don’t know how you could have been clearer about this whole ordeal.
“Eddie,” you smile. “I’ve told you like a million times that I like you — like earlier, I told you barely an hour ago before we got started.”
You said it quite plainly too; ‘Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.’
“Yeah, but I thought you meant as a… a person? Or a friend?”
You can’t help but laugh — not at him… well, a little bit at him, but this is just so ridiculous, how could he be so clueless.
“I love my friends but I don’t think I would fill all my free time teaching them math and all the anatomical correct names of the different parts of the penis.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, they’re good people but that’s not exactly my idea of fun,” you tease. “Of course I’m serious, Eddie. So if you wanted to make a move… I wouldn’t be opposed.”
At this point, after a confession as straightforward as that, you’d hope for movement — anything — even him getting closer to you, moving in for a kiss at the very least… but he stays sat in his opposite spot, his binder with the vagina diagram laid out flat, separating the both of you.
Maybe you read this wrong — backpedal.
“Did I just make this weird? Should I have not said that? I like tutoring you too, I don’t want you to think I’m expecting something from you just because I’ve been helping you.” You ramble apologetically, shrinking into yourself as you feel your whole body start to flush with icky embarrassment.
Eddie’s spine goes rigid as he sits up pin-straight, shaking his head emphatically.
“No! I like you too,” he interjects, leaning towards you, putting a hand on your knee. “Even before you started tutoring me.”
“You do?” You sigh a breath of relief. Meeting his eyes, you smile sweetly, ignoring the whiplash that still has your stomach pinched in a half knot.
His voice gets soft with his confession — “Why do you think I didn’t want to sit around looking at penises and vaginas with you?” he laughs quietly, “I was terrified of getting hard and scaring you away.”
The mention of him getting hard has your eyes flickering downwards for a split second. You can’t tell, but you tease him anyway — “And how’s that working out for you?”
“If you’re asking if I’m hard…” He trails off, smiling nervously, leaving you with a confirmed suspicion.
“Should I make a move?”
“Well, I’m not opposed.” He says it like it’s a joke — you know he’s being funny, breaking tension or whatever, but you don’t laugh. You perk up, tummy filling with fluttery feelings because that’s permission.
Permission to crawl the short distance between the two of you.
Permission to help yourself to his lap — pulling your skirt up high enough to straddle his upper thighs.
Permission to let your hands feel from his shoulders, down to his pecks.
Permission to be this close to him — close enough that you can see every shy detail, every cute freckle, every nervous flutter of his lashes.
Best of all — it’s permission for an intimacy you’ve been waiting for — longing for.
You sink yourself against him and — “Oh,” you gasp, “you weren’t kidding.”
Through the thin cotton of your underwear, you feel the hard curve behind the zip of his jeans. It has you biting your lip, holding back your grin.
His eyes coast your features, narrowing in on the tweaked up corners of your lips. He ghosts a quiet ‘yeah’, dipping his face downwards, hiding his own coy smile.
You just won’t have that — you bring your hands to his cheeks, tilting his chin upwards, encouraging him to look at you. He lets you guide him, lets you wash your gaze over his features — lets you rake your eyes over every detail, even when his skin grows pink and you know he wants you to be looking anywhere else.
But you can’t help it. The rosy tint to his cheeks looks too warm, too inviting. His lips are just too pink, too bitten. And most of all, his eyes have become too deep, too capturing, especially when the usual gold in his brown has resolved to being just the thinnest ring, glinting and shimmering around absorbing black orbs.
“Your eyes are really dark right now,” you observe aloud.
“Yeah?” He asks and you nod your head. You watch him as he lets his own gaze search your face. He swallows, coming to his own conclusion. “You just looked amused.”
You smile. You are amused but — “I’m not just amused.”
“No?”
“I’m also really turned on.” You feel it in your belly, multitudes of warm winged flutters, sitting low, radiating heat throughout your whole body. You lean in closer, watching intently as his brows rise, moving to hide beneath his bangs as he processes your second confession of the evening.
“You are?”
“Yeah,” you whisper. “Want to know what I’m thinking about?”
He swallows thickly, and that golden ring in his eyes gets the faintest bit thinner.
“I do.”
You sit more comfortably, bringing your hands back to his chest and letting your bum press fully to his thighs. He lets out a near silent groan as your front sinks to his and when you adjust your hips, his hands dart to your sides, holding you tightly.
“First,” you smile, batting your lashes at him. “I’m thinking about kissing you.” A soft swoon washes over Eddie's face, eyes turning soft for you. His eyes blink down to your lips, but you have more to say. “I’m also thinking about your balls in my mouth.”
The softness steps back, shock taking over. “Jesus christ,” he curses yet again, drawing out each syllable in a low groan.
“And since I’ve been sitting here, I can’t help but think about how your cock would feel inside of me.”
“Fuck.” He meets your gaze, eyes rounding, jaw going slack. His chest begins to rise more rapidly, his breathing growing heavier.
The feeling of him between your legs is undeniable now — he’s hard, very hard, uncomfortably hard. You let your hands slide up his chest, to his shoulders, letting your fingertips graze along the warm skin of his neck. He blinks heavily, eyelids growing weighted, swarming with evident lust. It makes you excited, makes you want more.
You lower your voice to a breathy whisper, leaning in closer, letting your lips graze the shell of his ear. “How’s the dirty talk, Eddie? Am I doing good?” You purr. His fingers pinch into the flesh at your sides as you shift once again, rolling your hips just enough to feel that hint of pleasure between your thighs.
Eddie stifles his moan. “S– so good. You’re doing so g-good,” he stutters. His breath hitches as you press a kiss to the edge of his jaw, and then another, moving downwards to his neck.
“What are you thinking about?” You pull away, looking at him through your lashes. You barely have a second to react before his hands are on your jaw, tugging you into him.
It catches you off guard at first as his lips mash to yours. It’s entirely overzealous, bidding his earlier statement true by multiple definitions. It’s not terrible, but it is desperate.
Flattening a heeding palm to his chest, you pull away just the slightest bit, letting your lips faintly graze his.
“Slowly, Eddie.” you whisper.
His interrupted desperation manifests as a quiet huff against your lips. Regardless of how hard he is beneath you, and how badly he wants to mash his mouth to yours, he nods, noses bumping together as he does.
This time you lean in. You guide the kiss, moving slowly, tenderly, and he follows your lead, moving gently, catching on quickly. Your upper lip presses between both of his and it's so delicate, so earnest, that it makes your heart thrum. It's exactly what you needed, and you reward Eddie with a quiet hum, letting your hands wrap behind his neck, pressing your chests together.
His breath fans over your skin as he hums back, letting his hands glide to your lower back, hugging you closer. His lips massage yours, slowly, and he takes his time, letting you melt into him entirely.
When you feel the pressure of his tongue licking across your lower lip your anticipation really sets in. You open your mouth, rolling your hips upwards as you move in closer to him. With a huffed, eager grunt, and with fingers kneading bruises into your skin, he licks into your mouth completely contradictory to it all, still giving you softness in the kiss. You’re elated by it all, swept up, enraptured by him being so sweet to you.
You sigh breathily as you have to pull away.
“That was really good,” you fawn, dropping your head to rest against his shoulder. You let out another sigh, smiling contently to yourself. You’ve been wanting to do that for a long time — really too long, if you’re being honest.
Eddie hums an agreement. You intend to go further than just a kiss, but you give yourself a moment to bask in it all. Just a moment, that’s all you need.
And in the next moment, with your wits gathered, you wiggle your hips. Eddie’s palms press tightly against your back and he lets out a sharp gasp that melds into a whimper. You giggle a quiet apology.
“Too much for you?” you tease.
“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head, his warm cheek pressing to yours. “M’just really hard right now.”
He is — you can feel it, and you can feel the mess growing between your own thighs.
A simple solution; you hint at rolling your hips another time. It’s hardly any friction, just testing the waters. You’re surprised when Eddie pulls you inwards, guiding your hips, encouraging you to move. He lets out a low groan as the squish of your thighs pass over his length, one that you hardly register over your own gasp as you get your first real hint of pleasure.
With his help, you build a slow rhythm, grinding to the curve in his denim, one that has your eyes fluttering shut and Eddie tensing, letting out meak whimpers and low moans. It's nice, it really is, but as nice as it feels for you, you weave a hand between the two of you, suggestively placing it on the buckle of his belt.
“Can I ask you another question?”
“Yes,” his voice comes out as a heaved breath. Very eager to continue.
“After you cum, how long does it take for you to get hard again?”
“Sh-shit — it depends. Sometimes —” he swallows thickly and you hear the gulp in his throat — “sometimes it’s barely a few minutes.”
“I want to try out what you taught me, but I want you to fuck me too.”
“We can — yeah we can do that.” His voice wavers as he bites back his excitement, trying to play it cool. Despite that, you feel the overzealousness in his pants, twitching with enthusiasm.
You press a chaste kiss to his lips before scooting back on his legs, weaving your hands between the two of you to pop open his belt. Just as you unweave the leather and toss the heavy buckle to the side, holding the button under your thumb, Eddie’s hand meets your waist — not stopping you, just getting your attention.
“Can I…” he starts. You look up at him, pausing your movement. He continues, “can I try what you told me too?” His eyes barely meet yours, growing bashful all over again.
“Of course you can,” you say sincerely. You finish unbuttoning his pants, tugging the zipper down while leaning in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You don’t gotta be shy, Eddie. I like you already, a lot.”
He nods, but you can still see a hint of cautiousness in his expression.
“I’m serious, Eddie. I want you to be comfortable with me. Anything you need, anything you want, you can tell me.”
He nods. His mouth mulls for a moment, but he nods a second time, assumedly coming to a conclusion. “Can we move up to the bed?” he asks.
“I’d like that,” you smile and he smiles back.
Just as you lift your leg to get off him, you let out a surprised yelp as he does the bravest thing he’s done yet, both hands grabbing firmly at your bottom, tugging you into him and up as he pushes himself off the floor. He moves the both of you up to the edge of the bed with one strong flex of his legs and your stomach swirls with the rush of it all.
From there, it's a giggling tussle of limbs, him pulling you up the bed, you pulling his pants off. Eventually, you both settle, him pantless, sitting with his back to the wall where his headboard should be, and you, by his side, knees pressing to his thigh. Your fingers wiggle with excitement as you take the thin cotton of his boxers, lacing them just under the waistband.
You shimmy in your spot, shaking your hips, letting out a happy hum as you begin to pull them down. Your belly fills with good nerves, butterflies, and your mouth salivates. When you get them down as far as you can without his help, he silently chimes in, lifting his hips, hooking his own thumbs into the material. With a quiet humph, the fabric passes his length, freeing it to bob against his shirt-covered belly.
Tempestuously red. Furiously flushed. Severely erect. Poor Eddie. Happy you. His tip is blushed to a deep crimson, glistening with the pearlescent sheen of precum. It has your body flushing hot everywhere — from your cheeks all the way south to where you grind yourself down onto the backs of your heels just to feel a pinch of salvation.
Somewhere between where your ogling started and where you had to physically swallow the gathering saliva in your mouth, his boxers got discarded entirely, your own shirt disappearing along with them — because it is just so hot all of a sudden.
If you weren’t completely blinded by your impeding tunnel vision, you would have seen the way Eddie gawked at your newly revealed skin, absorbing every inch, taking in every feature to your body. You would have seen the way his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and the fresh cherry red blush spread to his cheeks. You would have seen the way he had to forcefully peel his eyes away from your chest when he felt your fingers press into his bare thighs as you situated yourself between his legs. But you didn’t have a chance to notice all of those details, not when you felt the thrilling thrum of anticipation bubbling up in your bloodstream.
“You ready, Eddie?” You ask, grinning at him. He blinks slowly at you, no answer, making your smile falter.
“You look pretty,” he blurts out, much to your delight. “Really pretty. All the time — not just now because you're about to — you’re just beautiful, s’what I want to say.”
“Thank you,” you say, pleasantly surprised. Eddie on the other hand, cringes at his own rambling, face scrunching in defeat. You like him even more for it — “I think you’re beautiful too, Eddie,” you smile. “And not just because I have your pretty cock in front of me.”
Eddie huffs a soft laugh and you gleam, pleased with yourself.
With actual consent, you take him in your hand. Gentle at first, easing him into your touch. Just barely grazing your thumb over the tip, you smear the slick precum around, before sinking your fist to his base. He lets out a tensed moan, exhaling — exhilarating. That quiet, throaty noise has you lighting up, already feening for more.
Leaning down further, arching your back, you gather your saliva in your mouth before letting it spill out in a single string over the tip of his needy head, falling down just to be caught by the upwards rise of your fist. This time he sucks in a sharp breath and you live for it.
Closing the distance between your mouth and his cock, you lick the tip gently, pressing your tongue to the river of precum that sits in the curves of his slit, relishing in the saltiness that makes your mouth water effortlessly. You hum, feeling the pulse between your legs grow deeper, more intense. You push your hips back, angling them, searching for any sort of relief.
While it doesn’t satiate the need between your thighs, Eddie notices your squirm, and brings a splayed palm to your side, letting it curve to your skin. It settles in, warming you, encouraging you to distract yourself in such a beautiful way by taking him into your mouth.
You let your tongue swirl. Flick. Caress. Your lips graze before closing, and you suck. Cheeks hardly hollowing, the noise he lets out makes you want to keep being gentle — draw this out, make this last.
But like a devil on your shoulder, you want to skip forward. You want his balls in your mouth, that’s the guise of this whole encounter, isn’t it? To practice what he’s taught you.
Jumping right to the chase, abandoning his desperately swollen cock, doesn’t strike you as the way to go about this, so you continue to be gentle. Pulling off the tip, kissing him up and down his length. Pressing your lips where needed and drawing circles and lovey hearts across his skin with the pointed angle of your tongue.
It's not fruitless. Every noise, every groan, every heavy breath, pleading whimper, fills you up. It fills you up until it has you leaning your body into his hand on your rib cage, needing to feel him wherever you can, while taking him fully into your mouth. Swallowing him down, deeply hollowing your cheeks, gliding your lips and flattening your tongue until your nose presses to the wispy patch of coarse hair at his base.
“Fuck— fuck.” Eddie groans through a strangled breath.
His hand leaves your ribs and you whimper at the loss, only to be reunited with the physical contact as he takes hold of your head with both of his hands, pulling you up. You whine, chest collapsing with defeat. You pout as soon as his cock leaves your mouth. Looking up at him, he looks worked up and frayed — all a shivered mess — but eyes sincerely apologetic as he catches your disappointment.
“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that.” He pants heavily, catching his breath while you catch your own. Your pout lessens, and instead, your pride sets in. You did that to him.
Wiping your gathered tears, you place a tentative hand on his length, watching him for any protests. His head knocks back into the hard wall, but he never loses sight of you, now looking down the angular slope of his nose, watching with amorous, lusting eyes.
You dip down, reapproach, but this time you give into your own desire, indulging yourself.
Lifting his cock, you nose down his length. His eyes turn wide, but still, no protests.
“Can I put your balls in my mouth?” You ask, doing just as he told you to do, embellishing your simple sentence with pleading, fluttery lashes and persuasive, pinched together brows.
His lips press into a purse as he swallows, and then they part with approval. “Yes,” he says. You watch as his tongue swipes along his plump bottom lip, and you can’t help but smile up at him.
Appreciation sits on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t say it, you show it. Bowing your face low, you lick up the centre of his sack, flattening your slow moving tongue with an oath of sincerity — this makes you burn. For a moment, you believe that you’d be content if this was for you and you only, but then you meet his gaze, and you see the way he burns too.
His eyes devour you — your hand wrapped around his cock, thumb barely touching index, your chin settled deep between his thighs. You burn identically and it makes the swirl of butterflies in your stomach rise high, beating heavily in your chest. You get lost for a moment, but a thumb on your cheek, sweetly swiping softly against your skin, brings you right back.
“Pretty girl,” he hums.
You tilt your head, nuzzling into his grip, humming a tender thank you. His thumb swipes again, just under your eye before settling behind your ear, sitting there with no intention but to be tethered to you.
It’s sweet, and you return the gesture, pressing two kisses, one to each side. You shift your focus, returning back to the moment.
Head still partially in the clouds, you do something daring without thinking, and you suck one of his balls into your mouth. Eddie lunges forward, bending at the waist, nearly folding in half as his stomach tenses harshly. He whimpers, and you pull back immediately.
“Sorry!” You shift, looking at his contorted expression. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”
He quickly relaxes himself, patting your cheek as he settles, unclenching his thighs that had tightened at your sides.
“No — no.” He shakes his head, catching his breath “Do it again.” He gently guides you back down. “I was just distracted, caught me off guard,” he explains.
Distracted like you were. You understand, and you let him guide your face back down.
This time you’re careful. With his eyes on you, you start again, licking, feeling the silky skin with your tongue as you gauge his reaction, peering up at him through your lashes. He nods, and you carefully take him into your mouth, letting your tongue roll cautiously along the velvet skin.
You’re careful not to do too much, but you grow more confident when you see the way his mouth falls open with his own appreciation.
“Fuck,” he exhales. “Just like that. Good girl,” he praises, groaning as you suckle delicately. His cock jumps in your loose fist, reminding you just how long it's been since you’ve paid it any attention. Tightening your grip, you run your fist up, then down languidly, multitasking in a way that has Eddie gaping, jaw slack, mouth parted wide, eyes owlish and filled to the brim with heated astonishment.
With your mouth, you switch to his other side, doing the same, rolling your tongue exploringly, seeing what has his stomach tensing and noises pulling from his lungs.
As you let your thumb run over his leaking head, he lets out a throaty groan. His thighs tense around you once more, but instead of backing away, you lean into it, embracing the new-found way to make him squirm.
His breathing quickly becomes rapid as you take more of him into your mouth, sucking more confidently, and pulling away every now and again to press deserved kisses. Your fist moves quicker, focusing on the tip — purposeful, as you remember what he taught you.
You suck, and glide your hand in smooth strokes, over and over, showing him just how much you like him. If he didn’t believe you before, he has to now.
With a strong, devoted rhythm built, the skin against your tongue eventually begins to pull taut. He throbs in your hand. You know before he says anything, even before his hand can flex its grip on your cheek. You pull away, letting him fall from your mouth with a quiet pop. He lets out a worn sigh of relief as you sever the threads of spit from your mouth to his balls and shift, moving back to his wired-up cock, twitching at just the sensation of your breath on his over-flushed tip.
Rearranging yourself, you sink your fist, moving it low to his base, and then you adjust, moving your hand to cradle his balls in your palm. His stomach flexes and he lets out a pitiful whimper — he's so close, even while you're barely touching him.
“Please,” he rasps through a strained breath.
You have nothing but appreciation for the man in front of you, reduced to pleading. You want nothing more than to satisfy him.
Gentle, a thing of the past. You take his cock in your mouth deeply. Swallowing his thickness down, taking him as far as he fits, pressing him to the very back of your throat. Your eyes water, and you breathe heavily through your nose, never once forgetting to massage him in your hand.
His chest heaves, and his fingers weave their way into the hairs at the base of your neck, tugging — communicating. His helpless moans draw out, getting longer and deeper, drawing out each and every flutter in your belly, adding to your fire.
You can’t believe you’ve been sitting around, tutoring him, teaching him math when you could have been doing this. This is much better — much, much more fulfilling.
You rise and fall, bobbing quickly, and he encourages you, helping you find the pace that brings him to his edge. He swells in your mouth, and draws upwards in your hand. You hum, encouraging him to let go.
“I’m gonna —” he tries to speak, but a rogue whine cuts him off. He sucks in a sharp breath — “I’m cumming, I’m —” Panic invades his voice as his grip in your hair turns harsh, pulling, stinging your scalp. You hum again, and then you feel the spill.
The warmth of his cum invades the back of your throat, loading your senses with the distinctly musky taste and a bitter-flavoured swell of sweetness in your chest. Pleased, you swallow it down, and ask for more with the purse of your lips on his overworked tip. His hips buck up into you as you happily swallow everything you can, lapping it up with your appeasing tongue.
His body relaxes until you don’t stop. Then he’s flexing again, sucking in harsh, gasp-like breaths, using his hands in your hair to guide you away from his over-sensitive cock.
Both his palms cup your cheeks and you rise, straightening out your spine, walking your knees up the mattress to be closer to him. His hand falls to your knee, encouraging a bend, welcoming you back into his lap. You happily take a careful seat on his thighs.
“Holy fucking shit,” Eddie gushes unapologetically.
His body slouches into the mattress, but he continues to beakon you forward. You follow his weak, weary pull and he guides you to his lips, attaching his mouth to yours in a lazy kiss. His beholden tongue greets yours, unaffected by the lingering flavour of his seed that coats your lips and mixes with your spit. He devours it gratefully.
“That was —” he starts, pulling away just to peck your lips again — “So, so— I don’t even have words.” His hand slides loosely across the expanse of your bare waist as he presses a frenzy of chaste kisses to your lips, making you giggle.
“I did good? I thought I hurt you for a minute.”
“No— shit, you did so good, baby.” Eddie hums, fondly pressing his cheek to yours as he hugs you closer.
You feel his praises blaze at something inside of you, thrumming through your bloodstream, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t highlight your own neediness, the one left abandoned between your thighs.
Despite the restlessness that grows in your twitching hips, you try to relax, focusing on the sentimental feeling of the rise and fall of his chest, letting your body slink into his, fitting seamlessly against him until his breathing returns to a steady rate. You patiently wait for him to make the next move — especially after him letting you lead most of this evening.
Just as you’ve let your eyes flutter shut, resting them for a peaceful moment, a kiss to your shoulder has your excitement kicking up in your lower belly, waking up those warm, winged creatures once again. He presses another kiss, and then another, following the slope of your shoulder. Down the curve, to your collarbone, high on your chest, kiss after kiss until his lips meet the plumpness of your breast that spills over the cups of your bra.
The swell of your breast, across, to the centre, his lips find your sternum, and you keen into it, unafraid of coming off as desperate.
It’s barely anything, just innocent pecks, but it has you impatient, tilting your head back, curving your body to offer up more skin to him. He hums a warm tone, affectionately following the path of your sternum, nosing his way down your cleavage, sighing a deep, warm breath against your skin, adding a few extra heated degrees to your body temperature — you thank him with a breathy moan.
His hands move to your sides, tickling along your flesh, leaving goosebumped skin in their path as he traces along the band of your bra, fingertips gliding until they meet the clasp.
“Please,” you whisper, biting your lip as he finger paints small swirls along your spine. You push yourself closer, needing more.
And he gives you more. The band tightens around your ribs as he finds the edge, and you hold your breath.
One clip comes undone easily, granting you a hint of relief. Two follows, leaving just the third hook stuck standing between you and the promise of pleasure.
Then he stops — worse actually — he doesn’t just stop, he completely abandons the clasp on your bra as his head pops up, nearly clipping the edge of your jaw. He pulls you flush to his chest, tucking your head to his shoulder.
It surprises you, making your heart pound for an entirely different reason.
“What—” you begin, but his heedful palm spreads across the plain of your upper back, halting your question, making you pause. Unsure and curious, you turn your face, pushing against his grip on you, trying to see what’s wrong.
His face is contorted into a flat, focused look as his eyes fixate on the closed door of his room. You’re totally confused by what has pulled his attention, but then you hear a clatter from the living room of his trailer. You turn to look at Eddie.
His eyes pinch shut with disappointment. “No,” he groans, dropping his head to your shoulder in defeat.
“Is that —”
“My fucking uncle,” he mumbles into your skin.
“Oh,” you say quietly, trying to fight the unresolved neediness of your body from turning you into a slouching ball of disappointment.
“He's not supposed to be home yet,” he groans, and it comes out huffed, like he's annoyed, but you know it's not directed at you. Part of you is relieved to hear that upset edge in his voice, because you know how easy it would be for most boys to shrug it off when they already got what they needed.
His palm swipes across your back, rubbing it in a soothing way before he pulls away, finding your eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes.
You shrug, it's not like this is his fault. “It’s okay,” you promise.
“It’s not.”
You smile. “It is,” you say, delighted by his sincerity. “This just means we’ll have to pick up where we left off another day.”
“But you didn’t get to cum.”
True but — “I still had fun.”
He dips his face, chin bowing downward, bitten lips jetting out with his generous empathy. “I’m sorry,” he says again, and you giggle at his niceness. He might be more upset than you are, and you love it.
“Eddie, you know me,” you grin. “You said I did a good job, and there’s nothing better than the satisfaction of a job well done,” you beam, and you’re very pleased when you get a good chuckle from Eddie.
“Next time?” He proposes with a raised brow.
“Next time,” you agree.
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#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie x fem!reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x fem!reader
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JJK men pretending to date you to get rid of unwanted attention
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4cda516f26d29f073332acd135b37f54/e990eef350c78319-bf/s540x810/75311003b4ba74cf8ce4c129fc31a1c6a48c4348.jpg)
Pairings: Geto x fem!reader; Megumi x fem!reader; Choso x fem!reader; Gojo x fem!reader
Word Count; 3,9k (Gojo's part is loooong)
Warnings: got carried away by Gojo again lol, no real warnings except creepy guys and fluff over fluff, forgive me Noritoshi lovers, I know I did our man dirty in Megumi's part
Geto Suguru
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It’s a quiet afternoon in the city. You and Geto have been meeting at this cozy café once a week for months, a little ritual that started after one too many of countless exhausting missions. The place is familiar and comfortable, usually a perfect escape from the noise of jujutsu sorcery. But today, things are a little off.
You notice it immediately when you enter, the way the barista’s eyes follow you. He’s new, someone you’ve never seen here before, and while it’s normal for people to glance over at new faces, this guy’s gaze lingers. It’s unsettling, but you ignore it, not wanting to overthink things. Maybe it’s just the way your hair falls today or the fact that you’re still wearing your uniform since you’ve just returned from another mission.
You sit down across from Geto, who’s already sipping his tea and scrolling through his phone while lounging with his manspread on point.
As you allow yourself a sip of your favorite drink too, you try to relax. This has to be your imagination running wild, you aren’t even that pretty, right?
But every time you look up, the barista is staring at you, his eyes heavy with intent. Eventually, he makes his way over, holding a plate of complimentary cookies. Fuck, what are you supposed to do?
“These are for you,” he purrs, offering you a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“On the house.”
You blink, taken aback. The stinging smell of way too much masculine perfume almost makes your guts turn and forces you to hold your breathe. You can tell by one look in his eyes what his intentions are – and they definitely aren’t sincerely.
“Oh, um, thanks,” you murmur, unsure of how to refuse without making things awkward.
The guy lingers, his attention focused solely on you. When he takes another step towards you, the alarm in your head starts going wild. What the hell does this creep want?
“You come here often, don’t you? I’ve noticed you a few times.”
Geto looks up from his phone, his eyes narrowing slightly as he notices the barista’s attention. He says nothing at first, but there’s a subtle tension in the air that wasn’t there before. There’s no doubt in the fact that you’re feeling uncomfortable.
“Yeah, we come here a lot,” Geto interferes smoothly, his tone polite but firm.
“Together.”
The barista’s eyes flick to Geto for the first time, a shadow of irritation crossing his face. He clearly hadn’t noticed him before.
“Oh,” the guy mutters, his smile faltering.
“Are you two…?”
Geto leans forward in his chair, casually placing his warm hand on your thigh while giving you that smile that almost makes you choke. The move is subtle but possessive, his body language making it clear what he’s implying. And your body? Oh, you’re all over the place, your face already hot from the minimal touch of his palm.
“Yeah, we are” he replies simply, giving the barista a look that’s both confident and warning.
The guy frowns, obviously not pleased with the answer, but he doesn’t push it – much to your relief.
“Well, enjoy your cookies,” he gabbles before turning on his heel and heading back behind the counter.
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your body finally relaxing as the barista moves away.
“That was weird,” you comment, glancing at Geto with a small, grateful smile.
Geto shrugs, his usual calm smile returning.
“Some people don’t know how to take a hint.”
You chuckle, feeling the warmth of his hand still resting against your thigh.
“Thanks for stepping in. I didn’t know how to handle that without being rude.”
“It’s no problem,” Geto replies, his fingers brushing lightly against your covered skin while he leans in slightly.
“Besides, pretending to be your boyfriend has its perks.”
Your cheeks flush even deeper at his words, but you laugh it off, knowing he’s just teasing…
Does he?
There’s something about the way his eyes linger on you for a moment longer than usual, the faint smirk on his lips that makes your heart skip a beat.
“Come on,” Geto finally declares, standing up and offering you his hand.
“Let’s get out of here before that guy decides to bring us another free snack.”
You take his hand with a smile, letting him lead you out of the café, the tension from before completely forgotten.
Are you actually going insane or was there a…spark?
Megumi Fushiguro
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It’s a typical day at the jujutsu high training grounds. You and Megumi have been sparring for a while, your breaths coming in short gasps as you try to keep up with him. He’s quick, precise, and annoyingly good at reading your movements, but you’re giving it your all.
During a quick break, you head to the sidelines to grab some water. As you wipe the sweat from your brow, you notice one of the students from Kyoto High approaching. You’ve seen him around before, but you’ve never spoken much beyond the occasional greeting. After all, you’ll wring each other’s next in a few hours, there’s no need for any formalities. Was his name Noritoshi Kamo? Before you’re even able to finish your sentence, he stands right in front of you…
And talks?
“Hey, that was some impressive stuff out there,” he begins, leaning against the fence next to you.
His smile is strangely friendly enough, but there’s a glint in his eye that makes you uneasy.
“Sorry, are you talking to me?” you reply, keeping your tone neutral as you take another sip of water.
The guy doesn’t take the hint.
“You know, if you ever want some private training, I’d be happy to help,” he offers, stepping a little closer.
“I could teach you a few tricks.”
You stiffen slightly, your eyes flicking to where Megumi is standing a few meters away, watching the interaction with narrowed eyes. Before you can respond, the guy takes another step toward you, his hand reaching out as if he’s about to touch your arm.
But before he can, Megumi steps forward, his expression hard.
“She’s not interested,” he says flatly, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.
The guy blinks, taken aback by the sudden interruption. “Oh, I didn’t realize you two were-”
“We are,” Megumi interrupts firmly, moving to stand between you and the guy.
His presence is protective but not overbearing, a silent wall that the other student quickly decides not to challenge. All you can do is to stare back and forth between the two. That guy, who never said anything to you and now suddenly tries to flirt and Megumi, who stands in front of you like a wall in order to protect you from unwanted attention? You have to be dreaming.
“Right… well, I’ll see you around, I guess,” the guy mutters awkwardly before turning and walking away.
Once he’s gone, you let out a small sigh of relief, glancing up at Megumi with a grateful smile, even though you can’t shake off those violent butterflies roaming around your stomach.
“Thanks for that. He was pretty straight forward and I was too bamboozled to act.”
Megumi shrugs, his usual stoic expression back in place.
“He was bothering you.”
You smile, appreciating the way he always looks out for you, even if he tries to downplay it.
“Still, you didn’t have to step in like that.”
Megumi glances at you, his cheeks flushing just slightly before he looks away.
“It wasn’t a big deal,” he mumbles.
“Besides, I didn’t want him to distract you from training.”
You laugh softly, shaking your head at his stubbornness. While this is the first time Megumi stood up for you in this strange way, you can’t help but fall over and over for that boy who hides his feelings like a treasure. Is there a chance that he might like you as well?
“Well, I’m glad you did.”
He doesn’t respond, but there’s a faint smile on his lips as he turns back to the training ground, ready to spar again. And though he doesn’t say it, you can feel the warmth in his actions - the way he stands a little closer, the way his eyes flick to you more often than usual.
“Maybe”, you mutter to yourself before returning to the training field by his side.
Choso Kamo
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You never imagined that a simple grocery store run would turn into a whole situation. You’re wandering down the aisles, trying to decide between two different brands of pasta when you notice a guy lingering nearby. At first, you think nothing of it, people shop all the time, after all.
But then he approaches.
“Hey, need any help with that?” he asks, giving you a smile that’s a little too friendly for comfort.
You offer a polite smile back, shaking your head. Oh, you know men like him good enough, the ones who are only interested to drag you into bed. You’ve seen them countless times before, but in the grocery store? People are really desperate nowadays.
“No, I’m good, thanks.”
He doesn’t leave, though. Instead, he steps closer, his eyes roaming over you in a way that makes your skin crawl.
“You sure? I’ve got some great recipes I could share with you. Maybe over dinner sometime?”
You glance around, feeling trapped in the narrow aisle with no way out and no one nearby. Fuck, this isn’t good. Even if he won’t do anything in the grocery store, you still have to get back home – alone. And with that dark lust glittering in his eyes, he definitely won’t give up.
Just as you’re about to make up an excuse to leave and steady yourself for ramming your knee into his groin, you hear a familiar voice behind you.
“She’s already got dinner plans,” Choso announces, his tone calm but firm as he steps up beside you.
Choso.
Your heart skips a beat when you seem him, his eyes resting comforting on yours. Choso’s here? He didn’t even mention that he’ll go shopping when you last saw him at jujutsu high.
He places a gentle hand on your lower back, guiding you away from the guy with a quiet confidence that leaves no room for argument.
The guy raises an eyebrow, clearly irritated by the interruption.
“Oh yeah? And who are you?”
Choso’s expression doesn’t change, his dark eyes locked on the man with a quiet intensity.
“I’m her boyfriend.”
The guy snorts, clearly not believing it at first, but when he sees the way Choso stands protectively at your side, he seems to reconsider.
“Right… well, my bad,” he mutters before turning and walking away.
You let out a shaky breath, your body relaxing as soon as the guy is out of sight.
“Thank you. I thought this creep will follow me until I’m home” you murmur, looking up at Choso with a relieved smile.
“You could have just killed him.”
“You know I couldn’t do that…”, you reply with a scolding undertone.
These past weeks, you’ve spent a lot time with Choso and taught him simple human interaction. Was this why he stood up for you like that?
Choso glances down at you, his hand still resting lightly on your back.
“Are you okay?”
You nod, more than grateful for his presence. Even though his hand still resting against your back sends shivers down your spine.
In a strangely good way.
“Yeah, I’m fine now. I just… didn’t know how to get rid of him.”
Choso frowns slightly, his gaze softening as he watches you.
“You don’t have to deal with that alone. I’m always here if you need me. From now own, we will go to the grocery store together” he replies quietly.
Your heart swells at his words, and you smile up at him, feeling a warmth in your chest that goes beyond simple gratitude.
“I know. And I’m really lucky to have you.”
Choso’s cheeks flush slightly at your words, but he gives you a small nod, his usual calm demeanor returning.
“Let’s finish shopping,” he says, gently guiding you toward the next aisle.
“I’ll stick close, just in case.”
Gojo Satoru
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The bass thumps through your body, the vibrations of the music almost tangible as they pulse through the packed nightclub. Neon lights flash over your head, casting everything in a rainbow of colors, and the crowd moves like a living, breathing body. It's a typical night out with Gojo, who insisted you both hit the club after a long week of missions.
You spot him easily in the chaos, standing at the bar with his signature sunglasses on even in the dim, flashing light. His presence is impossible to miss. After all, Gojo is always the center of attention wherever he goes. His tall frame, casual stance, and self-assured grin naturally draw people in. And tonight is no exception.
You watch from the other side of the club as a woman approaches him, her gaze locked on Gojo like a predator targeting her prey. She’s tall, confident, and clearly intent on making her move. At first, you don’t think much of it - this kind of thing happens all the time when you’re out with him. Gojo is Gojo, after all. But the way she leans into him, brushing her hand against his arm, makes something sharp twist in your gut.
You try to shake it off. You’re not the jealous type, and Gojo has always been playful when it comes to flirting. He simply enjoys the attention, but you know it’s harmless. Still, there’s something about the way this woman is looking at him that makes you feel uneasy.
Even though your not even his fucking girlfriend.
As you make your way through the crowd, heading toward the bar, you see the woman press herself closer to Gojo, her lips moving near his ear as she says something you can’t hear over the pounding music. Gojo’s grin only widens, and he says something back, causing the woman to laugh, her hand lingering on his chest.
Your pace quickens, a mix of frustration and something else bubbling up inside you. You’ve been with Gojo long enough to know how he works, but tonight, for some reason, the sight of him entertaining someone else makes your chest tighten.
Finally, you reach the bar just as the woman leans in even closer, her hand now resting on his shoulder.
“Hey,” you say, louder than necessary to cut through the music.
“I see you’ve made a friend.”
Gojo turns his head at the sound of your voice, his trademark grin plastered on his face.
“Oh, hey, babe!” he calls over the music, completely unfazed.
“I was just chatting with—uh, sorry, what was your name again?”
Wait, did he just call you babe?
The woman looks visibly annoyed as Gojo fumbles for her name, her gaze flicking to you with thinly veiled irritation.
“I was just about to get us drinks,” she purrs, trying to brush off your presence, clearly not deterred by the fact that Gojo is here with you.
You raise an eyebrow at her audacity, but before you can respond, Gojo’s arm snakes around your waist, pulling you close to him with a casual but unmistakably possessive gesture. His hand rests securely on your hip, and he leans down so his mouth is close to your ear, his breath warm against your skin.
You feel like fainting. Or maybe dying? Oh, your heart will definitely beat out of your chest if that dream continues.
“She’s not really my type,” he murmurs, his voice low but playful.
“I’m more into, well… you.”
Despite the loud music, the tension in the air shifts instantly. The woman stares at you, clearly catching Gojo’s not-so-subtle dismissal, her expression darkening. And you? If it wasn’t for Gojo’s hand that keeps you in place, you’d land straight on your wobbly knees.
“Really?” she huffs, glaring at you like you’ve somehow intruded on her territory.
“Yeah. Besides, I’m already taken” Gojo replies easily, his grin never wavering.
You feel a small surge of satisfaction at his words even though you know he’s lying to annoy the hell out of her, but the woman isn’t ready to give up just yet. She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You sure you’re not missing out?” she challenges, giving you a once-over that makes your skin crawl.
Gojo’s grip tightens on your waist, and this time, his playful smile fades just a fraction.
“Nope, I’m sure. I don’t think we need any drinks after all. They won’t help with your disgusting attitude anyway” he comments, his tone firmer.
With that, he smoothly turns his back on her, guiding you away from the bar and into the crowd. You glance back just in time to see the woman’s face fall, a mixture of disbelief and irritation crossing her features before she disappears into the crowd of people.
Once you’re safely away from the bar, Gojo turns to you, his grin back in place as if nothing happened.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice light and teasing, but there’s a flicker of concern in his eyes.
“Yeah,” you mutter, feeling your face heat up slightly.
“But you…Did you just call me your girlfriend?”
Gojo’s smile softens, and he reaches up to gently cup your chin, tilting your face up so you’re looking at him.
“What if I did? Would that be okay for you?”
Your heart skips a beat, your body reacting to his words in an instant. Is he making fun of you, testing you? No, you can feel that he means it by the way he holds you by your waist, his fingers resting there like he’s afraid to let go. The world around you feels muffled, the music and the crowd fading into the background. It’s just you and Gojo now, his bright blue eyes shining under the neon lights.
You swallow, trying to find your voice.
“I-I… I don’t know,” you stammer, suddenly feeling like the confident façade you normally carry around him has vanished. The way he’s looking at you so seriously, intently, is doing things to your heart that you can’t quite control.
“I mean, you don’t-”
Gojo interrupts you with a soft laugh, his hand sliding up from your waist to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear.
“You don’t have to answer right now, you know,” he mutters, his voice a little softer than before.
“But I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I guess tonight just gave me the perfect excuse.”
You blink at him, too stunned to speak. Gojo Satoru, who flirts with everyone, who acts like nothing ever truly gets to him, has been thinking about you as more than just a friend? You’ve always had a bit of a thing for him, of course. It’s hard not to when he’s charming, gorgeous, and undeniably protective when it comes to you. But you never thought he felt the same way.
“I thought you were just messing with me,” you admit, your voice a little quieter now, feeling vulnerable under his gaze.
He grins, though this time it’s softer, not the usual cocky smirk.
“I mess with everyone. But with you? It’s different. I don’t just want your attention, I want you.”
His words sink in, and suddenly the air between you feels charged. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something huge. You’ve seen Gojo in action. So fearless, confident, always in control, but the way he’s looking at you right now is different. He’s giving you the choice.
A swell of warmth floods through you as you meet his gaze. Maybe it’s the alcohol you drank earlier, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s just so close, but you can’t hold back anymore.
“You’re not playing around, are you?” you ask, searching his face for any sign of his usual teasing.
His smile softens further as he shakes his head.
“Not this time.”
Something inside you snaps, and before you can stop yourself, you close the gap between you.
You wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his in a kiss that’s been building for far too long. Gojo freezes for a moment, clearly surprised, but it only takes a second before he’s kissing you back with an intensity that makes your knees weak. His hand tightens on your waist, pulling you closer, and the world around you disappears completely.
The kiss is electric, everything you imagined it would be and more. You can feel the pent-up tension between you finally break as his lips move against yours, and when he deepens the kiss, your mind goes blank. All you can think about is the way he tastes, the way he feels, and the way your body seems to mold perfectly against his.
When you finally pull back, breathless and a little dizzy, Gojo is grinning down at you like you’ve just handed him the world.
“Well,” he comments, his voice slightly rougher than usual,
“I guess that answers my question.”
You laugh, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.
“I guess it does.”
He doesn’t let go of you, his arms still wrapped securely around your waist.
“You know, I don’t usually do this. Y’know, getting serious with anyone” he starts, his tone light but sincere.
“I know,” you reply, your smile softening.
“But I think we’re both a little different when it comes to each other, aren’t we?”
Gojo’s eyes flicker with something deeper as he nods.
“Yeah, we are” he murmurs, brushing his thumb gently along your cheek.
The club around you is still loud and chaotic, but in this moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you. Gojo, for once, isn’t playing his usual games. His smile is genuine, and there’s a warmth in his eyes that makes your heart race.
“So, does this mean I get to call you my girlfriend for real?” he questions, his grin slowly returning.
You laugh, feeling lightheaded and happy as you look up at him.
“Only if I get to call you my boyfriend.”
He raises an eyebrow, that familiar playful smirk creeping back onto his face.
“Oh, I think that can be arranged.”
Before you can say anything else, Gojo leans down and kisses you again, slow and deep, like he’s making sure this is real. And for the first time in a long time, everything feels right.
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Sweet and Spicy
Jo Yuri x M Reader | 🔞 Smut
[idol x manager, she wants u lil bro]
Word Count: 3,654
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5b736ff74ecb0bbf2a69441cd7fa8b4d/1e04a94e268f5bb1-83/s540x810/103457ad84a20f42168c813a76a4df00056f074e.jpg)
As you sat down at your bed, in your small studio apartment, taking in the long day you just had, you take stock of everything you had been going through these past few months.
For once in your crappy life, you found a way to turn your quiet days into a job, applying for literally anything on the market. That was when a friend of yours, Jo Yuri, yes, Yuri from IZ*ONE, well, used to be IZ*ONE, found you submitting your resume at the small company she works at.
Intrigued by your looks, she asked the people that was managing her at the time what you were doing there, and they explained that you were applying for a job. Not soon after, there were online calls, and sit-down interviews, and then they gave you the job.
It was a little stressful at first, that's only because you didn't really know what you were doing. All you were told by the people regularly working with Yuri is to just follow her orders and take notes from her old manager, who was going to pursue a new career, and took you under his wing as he guided you to her everyday routines and activities.
You eventually learned how to handle Yuri, from her breakfast, her choice of coffee, towards the end of the day where you make sure she's back at her place safely.
As for Yuri, it never really hit you how soft and sweet she really is. You take care of her very often, and she often reminds you how grateful she is. It's a very difficult job, but Yuri makes it a hundred times easier.
You smiled to yourself as you got ready to sleep, took your phone to scroll through some reels, a text popped up on your screen, it was Yuri.
"U awake?"
You didn't hesitate to reply back, "Yeah, what's up?"
"I'm feeling lonely... :("
"Oh, do you want me to come over?"
"Bring some ramen and fishcakes too please :3"
"Alright, I'll be there in 10"
And just like that, you compromised your comfortable position in bed, and got up again to get your keys and wallet. You grabbed a fresh hoodie and wore some jogging pants before going out to the nearest convenience store to buy Yuri her ramen and fishcakes.
You didn't even think twice, you just went to the convenience store, picked up the food and drove right ahead to her place.
The stairs going up to her apartment were very long, so thank god the elevator is working. After pressing the button and waiting, you were left there with your thoughts. That's when it hit you: You've never been alone with her.
Sure, there are moments during the job which required the two of you to be alone, such as car rides, airplane rides, or the few minutes at the backstage dressing room where all the stylists have gone out and it was just the two of you. But, you two were never left alone in this capacity, in a very private setting, for quite some time, given she invited you over to eat as well.
Shaking away these thoughts were the ding signifying the elevator was there, and along with it, the doors opening. Stepping inside, was just you. As the doors closed, your fate was slowly sealed for the rest of the night.
Another ding rang out, this means you're on her floor now, which meant it was time to step out of the elevator. Carrying the bag of food she requested, you simply walked along the hallway, looking for her door. And then you saw it, Room 1029. This was her door.
The doorbell beside was already calling your name, and you took the chance to press it, where the chime of the bell had echoed in her apartment, making her leave the bed and walk towards her door to let you in.
As she opens the door, you were quite shocked to see what she was wearing. She had her hair tied in a clamp, she wore a black camisole that hugged her top and showed a little bit of her cleavage, and paired with that are black bike shorts, it made it seem like her white legs were greeting you with a smile, and on top of that, she was wearing cute fluffy bunny slippers that completed her look.
"Hi, come in. Thank goodness you're finally here, i'm kinda starving." She said that with a smile, which you can consider a smirk, but you paid little attention to the detail.
"Thank you, I'll cook your ramen, can you point me to the kitchen?" You say as you take your shoes off and set it aside.
"It's right over there, thanks a lot!" She says that with a beam of sunshine on her face.
She offered you some fluffy slippers as well, so you took it. After wearing them, it really is super comfortable, and it made your bare feet feel like it was already in bed.
Going straight to her kitchen, you took out the ramen packs and boiled some water. Yuri went by your side, touching your arm in the process.
"Aren't you wondering why I felt lonely?"
"I was thinking you'd tell me later."
"Well... it's a bit of a long story, but I'd really love to tell you why."
It was almost like teasing, the way her tone sounded during those words. You could only nod as a response, still being clueless as to what Yuri was trying to do, and it made her a little needy, seeing her manager being aloof, trying to bring his walls up to deny her advances. But Yuri hasn't started yet.
"I wanted some good times. My old managers were female, but they provided me whatever I needed, sending over some, company." Yuri is rubbing her palm up and down your arm now.
"Good times? What does that mean?" You ask, confused by what she meant.
"It's a very lonely industry, I used to be in a group, so I was never really alone back then, but these days, I find myself more and more lonely, and I've been looking for people to... spend time with."
"So me? Your manager?"
"Ah... but you could be more than just my manager." Yuri winks.
You take the ramen and pour it out on two bowls, and prepare her fishcakes as well. "Like what?"
She takes the pot from you, and puts it down gently on the sink before walking back and caressing your chest.
"I'd be happy to show you later, oppa."
The tension in that room really went high once she said that word in a sultry tone. It was getting really dangerous, and it could boil at any minute, and it made you scared. If things did happen, you could get fired, and that'll be the least of your problems.
"Ah... Yuri, the food is ready..." You look away, staring at the prepared food beside you.
She smirks and takes her hands off of you. "Okay, let's have a warm meal first."
You breathe a sigh of relief as the both of you bring the food to the small dining table nearby, and she deliberately sat beside you, in a very close manner.
She takes a sip of the noodles, and hummed in delight. "Ahh... you got the delicious ones, this is great!"
"I like this brand too. It's my hangover meal."
She raises her brows with a smile. "You drink heavy, oppa?"
There she goes again. It just hits a nerve within you, and every time she says it you just want to throw yourself out the window before you do anything stupid.
"No... just casually... when there's an event."
"I see." She says as she goes back to sipping her noodles.
The tension is higher than ever now. It was very difficult nursing a raging boner in your pants while hearing her say those words, thank goodness she hasn't looked down yet.
Unfortunately for you, that's exactly what she's going for. You try to stay focused, sipping on your ramen and praying to god she's not planning any more funny stuff. But Yuri was planning for more funny stuff, and she looked down to see a bulge on your pants, and she smiled to herself knowing that she has won, without even laying a finger on you.
In your head, everything was circling and you were getting dizzy thinking about a lot of things. All the clearer and innocent thoughts have been thrown out the window, and you think back to the way she answered the door for you earlier, with nearly everything just exposed, and it got your cock twitching with excitement while you desperately try to think about something disgusting to remove that boner before Yuri says anything about it.
"Is there a phone in your pants, or are you just excited to see me?" Yuri smiles and traces her fingers along your thighs, dangerously close to your crotch, then you freeze.
There was no response. Your brain has short-circuited, and the neurons that your brain was supposed to send to your mouth to start talking has been neutralized by this girl, your supposed boss, who has her hand inching closer, and closer, nearing the inevitable part of touching that raging boner you had been hiding, and as time slows down, her pinky got there first.
She had a small feel of your cock. Albeit far from actually touching your cock, she was there. She was still inching, until her entire hand was laid there on top of your crotch, and she was smiling.
"Oppa, are you okay?" She asked, smiling, hoping to break you out of your frozen trance.
"Yuri..."
She stood from her chair, leaned to your side, and wrapped her arms around your neck before she whispers, "Why did you have to wear such a thick fabric tonight? This would've been so much easier."
"I'm not sure... how to respond, Yuri. What are you doing to me...?"
She breaks a smile as she kisses your cheek, "It's pretty obvious. I called you over because I'm lonely, and I needed a man to fuck me. And you are so hot oppa, I've been wanting you ever since you applied for this job, I wanted them to hire you, and I have been waiting until you're comfortable enough to come to my home, and use my body as you wish."
Your cock had viciously twitched, and it really hurt for it to be in your pants, and that was all the response Yuri needed from you.
"Come on, let's go to my room, get these clothes out of the way." She giggles as she says it.
"W-wait... I might get fired."
"For what? Doing your job?" She smiles again as she takes your hand in hers.
"This... is part of the job?" You look at her with an eyebrow up, confused.
"Your job includes taking care of my every need, and right now, I need you. Don't worry, okay? Everything will be okay, I promise."
"None of this will get out?"
"I should be the one asking you that, cutie." Yuri smiles again, that damned smile.
It finally makes you crack a smile, and you wholeheartedly embrace the situation you are in, so you lean in slowly and kiss her.
She returns the kiss with a strong fervor, and cups your cheeks as she deepens the kiss. Your hands roam around the side of her body, before landing on her hips, hugging her figure and pulling her closer to you.
Yuri moans in the kiss, and this made you hungrier, more needy, and started kissing her with a burning passion, and those touches on her hips turn into something more of a primal instinct, you grabbed her ass, and carried her. In turn, Yuri wrapped her legs around you as she got even deeper into the kiss, whining and moaning while you try to walk towards her room with Yuri pointing out where to go.
Once you were in front of her door, fiddling with the doorknob, Yuri laughs at you cutely and you give her a sly smile, before finally looking down and opening the door to her room.
Her room is pretty cluttered, pink walls, with her dressing table with a vanity mirror attached to it, a lot of makeup products scattered on the table, her hair dryer splayed on the chair, and some clothes hanging on the chair itself. There is another table across, her laptop right there, along with some pens and paper, you're assuming she's studying something, going to online classes.
Then there's her bed, it's a really comfortable looking bed, with weighted blankets, and a lot of stuff toys on the pillows, since they all look so different, you can assume that those are the gifts she's received from fans over the years.
You walk her towards the bed and plop her down, and she starts clearing her bed out, taking her plushies and stuffed toys and tossing it towards the chair near the bed, stacking them on top of each other. You sat on her bed, waiting for her to finish, and she flashes you a quick giggle while she's clearing her bed out, which earned a sweet smile from you.
Once she was done, she took a pillow and placed it on the floor in front of you, before kneeling on it, "I think you deserve something from me, after I really made your life hard." She says as she moves her hands towards the band of your thick sweatpants and pull it down slowly, along with your boxers, revealing your throbbing cock, which earned a relieving gasp from you, finally letting it breathe after getting set free.
"Ooh..." Her fingers wrap around your length, as she takes into stock the girth of it all, looking at it up and down while she slowly strokes your cock to understand its length.
The way her fingers are moving elicits a low moan from you, it feels like she knows where to hit you, and it feels really good. She hasn't even done anything that's going to break you just yet.
"It's quite big... but I think I can take this." She closes her eyes and places small kisses on the frenulum, trailing them downward, and takes your balls into her mouth, while stroking your length slowly. Her eyes drift from appreciating the length of your cock towards your eyes, making eye contact with you.
You see the hunger in her eyes, as she takes your balls gracefully and using her other hand to grip you properly and stroke you well, and damn does it feel so good with every single lick, and every single stroke with her hand just feels like heaven.
It's pretty obvious that she has done this before, the way she knows how to jerk you off, her licks on your underside with just enough pressure, her thumbing your frenulum while she spits on the head of your cock to make everything feel wetter and so much better.
Twitch after twitch, she notices you gripping her sheets, trying not to cum right then and there.
"I know I'm that good but, already?" She smiles and lets your cock go, leaving you with an empty feeling and thrusting into the air wanting for more.
"You're cute, oppa. I'll suck your cock, but promise me not to cum, okay?"
"Okay..."
She puts her hands behind her back, smirking and taking in the head of your cock in her mouth, without a single touch. She slowly lowers herself, deeper and deeper into your cock, until her nose touches your pelvic area, and her beautiful mouth has enveloped your cock.
You were struggling, you could feel her throat opening and closing on your cock and it's unbelievably difficult to maintain your composure, doing your best not to bust right then and there. You keep your hand right above her head, wanting to touch her and hold her right there but you freeze, your hand just shaking in the air while your eyes are rolling to the back of your head.
Yuri slowly comes back up, and you feel the cool air on the base of your cock again, but it didn't last long as she starts bobbing her head faster, sucking your cock passionately and trailing her eyes towards you.
Looking at you just made her want to break you more, sucking your cock faster, and finally using her hands to fondle your balls at the same time.
The pressure and the pleasure of her blowjob is making you moan so loud, her spit trailing down the length of your cock, down to your balls, her chin, and the floor underneath.
"Yuri... oh my fucking god... I don't think I can last any longer if you keep that up."
She suddenly stops, edging you, and smiles as she wipes the drool off her chin and giggles, "Okay, I'll stop now."
"W-what...?"
"You can't cum yet. I still need you hard."
"But.. I'm so close..."
"Nope. You promised not to cum yet." She smiles and stands, taking her pillow and dusting it off before tossing it back on the bed.
"You're mean."
"Am I?" Her camisole comes off, revealing a cute pair of tits, and asks you to do the same.
You finally take your hoodie off, as well as your shirt, tossing it across the room with the rest of your clothes. Now it's just Yuri in her shorts, and your eyes are locked towards her boobs.
"Okay oppa, fuck me." Yuri slowly takes off her shorts, tosses it away, and you finally see her pussy, which is unbelievably wet.
You grab her and place her down the bed, spreading her legs and gliding two of your fingers down on her, earning a cute moan.
She grabs your cock, still wet from her spit, and grazes your cock head on her slit, earning louder moans. She tries to insert it herself, being very impatient, and without a care, you plunged it inside her deep.
"Ahh! Fuck!" She moans as your cock slides in easily, fucking her relentlessly without any build-up.
Her arms wrap around your head while you bury your lips into her neck, with her moaning louder with each strong thrust.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! Don't stop! Keep going hard! Yes!" Earlier she was breaking you, and now that you have control, fucking her into delight, you're breaking her.
"Take this fucking cock, Yuri. You love this fucking cock don't you?"
"Yes! I love that cock! Please please please!"
She was creaming down there, getting white cream all over the length of your cock and down towards the bed, she's unbelievably horny, and her legs are shaking again and again, cumming over and over without you stopping, or skipping a beat.
Her eyes have rolled behind her head and her grip on your neck has loosened, her body splayed down the bed taking your massive pounding again and again.
You've managed to hold your cum off now, and you're feeling that familiar feeling down there, and you just can't hold it any longer.
"Yuri... I'm gonna fucking cum..."
"Don't you dare pull out."
"What...?"
"Finish inside me, deep inside, make an even bigger mess than I am making, please."
"I could get in trou-"
"Just fucking cum inside! I'm safe! Please! Ohh my fucking god!"
You feel her pussy tighten and loosen again, signifying that she came for an uncountable number this night, and you finally break, spraying load after load of thick cum deep inside her, mixing with her creamy pussy and making a huge creampie mess right then and there, spilling out of her pussy and leaking on the sheets.
"There... fuck... there..." You say as you fall down beside her, pulling out and letting her the mixed juices of her cum and yours inside her pussy leak down.
"That... was the best creampie I have ever gotten." She pants as she closes her eyes.
You hug her, "We should change your sheets before we sleep..."
"Okay..." She wobbles up, her legs shaking, making you smile, because you did that. You made her cum again and again and now she could barely walk.
You asked where her sheets are and changed everything yourself. Afterwards, you took a towel and cleaned her off before finally going back to bed so you two could cuddle.
"I'm glad you're my manager, oppa."
"You can drop the oppa act now, Yuri, I fucked you already."
"No, I mean it. On top of being a handsome dude, you fuck like a machine, so much better than any guy I've ever had. But I need you to promise something..."
"What is it?" You take her chin and make her look up at you.
"You know that my career is... pretty unstable. I don't get schedules on a regular basis, or even make music a guarantee." She says as you nod.
"Promise you'll stay through the rough times? You've been really good to me, you're an amazing manager and I know you're here for a paycheck, but it would be really great if you stayed."
You plant a kiss on her lips and smile, "Yuri, I'll stay. It times get rough, I'll do anything with you to get a paycheck. I know you're not in a stable position, but we'll get there. I'll help find you opportunities, whether that be a comeback or an acting gig, maybe something else, but I'll stay, for you."
"Thank you." She smiles as she gives you a softer kiss this time.
"I love you." She says one more time before closing her eyes.
"I love you too." You reply. Whatever love means to Yuri, you know you're in for the long haul, whether you like it or not.
-FIN-
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A/N: Here you go Glassys, I hope you like this one. If you all want, you could send me some inspiration for fics, pictures or prompts, go ahead. I probably won't do requests, but short inspirations would be awesome. Thanks for the support thus far, and I love you all.
Just keep swimming.
-Shark
#yuri x m reader#yuri smut#jo yuri smut#jo yuri x m reader#jo yuri x male reader#yuri x male reader#idol x fan smut#fluff
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“Trophy Room” Lando Norris x Reader
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c8ea06415415ec89c62371adce00c45e/b101834a4fc9e3f0-42/s540x810/c0727be94e8ad2101281d35d55abb30eaa0ab9e5.jpg)
Warning: smut, NSFW, alcohol, drunk sex, unprotected sex.
Summary: Lando Norris throws a party in hopes of getting closer to Y/N, a girl he’s been crushing on, introduced by mutual friends. Amid drinks, dancing, and flirtation, their chemistry culminates into a moment away from the crowd, hinting at something deeper between them.
WC: 2,000?
Lando’s POV
The two weeks off couldn’t have come at a better time. After months of relentless training, race prep, and following a strict diet, I was ready to relax a bit. It’d been ages since I let loose, and tonight was all about unwinding. But honestly, the real reason I was throwing this party had less to do with relaxation and more to do with her. Y/N.
I don’t know what it was about her—something about the way she laughed or how she didn’t seem fazed by the chaos around her. She’d come into my life through Max and Pietra, his girlfriend, and since then, I’d found myself scrolling through her Instagram, even browsing her Spotify playlists just to feel like I knew her a little better. I was surprised to find out she didn’t have a boyfriend. Not that I was checking specifically… but, okay, maybe I was.
The music was already pumping as people filled my penthouse. My mate Martin was on the DJ deck, setting the perfect vibe, and the drinks were flowing freely. The weight of the day’s workout still lingered in my muscles, but the buzz from a couple of shots was loosening me up. I was taking a shot with Max when I saw her walk in, and—well, let’s just say I almost choked on my drink.
I couldn’t stop myself from calling out to her. “Y/N! Shot?” I grinned, holding up the vodka bottle.
Y/N’s POV
Walking into Lando’s penthouse, I immediately felt a bit overwhelmed. The place was packed, and the music was loud enough to make the floor vibrate. I scanned the room for Pietra; she was the one who convinced me to come in the first place, promising me a fun night and a chance to unwind.
Before I could find her, though, I heard my name being called. I looked over and saw Lando, smirking, with a bottle of vodka in hand, waving me over. He had this look in his eye that told me he was already a little tipsy. The group around him started chanting my name, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Okay, okay… fine!” I made my way over, and Lando immediately started pouring me a shot, spilling a bit as he did. He was definitely drunk, and he was being flirty in a way that caught me off guard.
“Don’t look so scared, it’s just vodka,” he teased with a grin. “Come on, cutie… I’ll pour you an extra large one.”
I laughed, trying to hide the fact that his confidence was making me blush. “I think I can handle it, thanks.” I downed the shot, my face scrunching up as the vodka burned its way down.
He burst out laughing. “Oh, come on, was it that bad?” He watched me, his gaze lingering a little too long, and I felt his eyes sweep over me. It was like he was taking in every detail, from my dress to the way I was reacting to him.
“You never followed me back, by the way,” he said, pouting in a way that was both ridiculous and kind of cute.
I rolled my eyes but smiled. “Didn’t know you were checking, Mr. Norris.”
“Oh, I’ve been checking,” he replied, leaning closer. “Just waiting on you to notice.” His words were playful, but his eyes had a glint that made my stomach flutter.
He poured me another shot before I had a chance to protest, grinning as he held it out. “One more. Think you can keep up?”
I raised an eyebrow, taking the glass. “Are you challenging me?”
“Maybe,” he smirked. “Let’s see if you can handle it.”
I took the shot, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through me. The music seemed louder, the lights dimmer, and everything around me just felt more alive. I was definitely feeling the buzz now.
As more people arrived, the party got even more crowded, and every time Lando moved away, I’d find him gravitating back toward me, like he wasn’t content unless he was close. Eventually, he reached for my hand and pulled me toward the makeshift dance floor.
“Come on!” he yelled over the music, his grin infectious.
I laughed, letting him lead me, and he immediately started dancing, his movements exaggerated as he tried to make me laugh. His energy was electric, and soon I couldn’t help but match his enthusiasm. At one point, a few people bumped into me, and he quickly grabbed my hips, pulling me closer. I could feel his breath on my ear as he leaned in.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmured, smirking as he looked down at me.
My face heated up at his words, but he was already pulling back, that same cocky smile on his face. “What?” I challenged, trying to keep my cool.
He shrugged, giving me a look that was equal parts daring and mischievous. “Just stating facts.”
Before I could respond, he tilted his head, giving me a mischievous grin. “Wanna see something cool?”
“What do you have in mind?”
He leaned in, lowering his voice. “I wanna show you my trophies.” He held my gaze, and even in his drunken state, I could feel the sincerity in his eyes.
I felt my stomach twist in excitement and nerves, but before I could second-guess, he grabbed my hand, leading me down a hallway. His fingers laced through mine, and I could feel the warmth of his hand, grounding me in the moment.
He opened a door to a room that had a display case filled with trophies, awards, and helmets. The room felt quieter, the music from the party faint in the background, and for a moment, it was like we’d stepped into a different world. He watched as I took it all in, a proud but slightly shy expression on his face.
“You’re really good at what you do,” I said softly, looking back at him.
He shrugged, his usual confidence wavering slightly. “It’s just racing… I dunno, sometimes it feels like people only see this side of me, y’know?”
I nodded, understanding more than I expected. “Well, it’s impressive. But I think I’m seeing another side of you tonight too.”
He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “You mean the drunk idiot?”
“No,” I laughed. “The Lando who cares, who’s goofy and… real.”
His gaze softened, and he stepped closer. “I’m really glad you came tonight, Y/N.”
My heart pounded as he looked at me, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by something warmer, something… real. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from my face, his hand lingering for a moment.
Without thinking, I found myself leaning in, and he met me halfway, his lips soft and warm against mine. It was a gentle kiss, both of us testing the waters, but as his arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer, the kiss deepened, filled with the energy and intensity that had been simmering between us all night.
He pulled me closer, his drunken confidence fueling his actions. With a sudden force, he pushed me back against one of the trophy cases, his lips hungrily claiming mine. I was taken aback, not expecting this level of intensity from Lando. His teeth nipped at my bottom lip, sending a shiver down my spine as he sucked on it fervently.
His hands roamed down my body, finally settling on my ass. He gripped it tightly, pulling me flush against him. I could feel his hardness pressing against my core, evidence of his desire for me. My mind was reeling, trying to process the abrupt change in our dynamic. I hadn't realized Lando wanted me this badly, but I found myself responding to his touch, my body melting into his.
As he continued to kiss me passionately, I felt a sense of excitement and nervousness coursing through me. This wasn't what I had anticipated for tonight, but the thrill of the unexpected was intoxicating. His hands slid under my dress, caressing my thighs, inching closer to my most intimate area. I let out a soft moan, the sound muffled by his lips against mine.
Lando abruptly pulled away from our heated embrace, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. He grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the trophy room, his steps hurried and determined. We stumbled down the hallway, our laughter echoing off the walls as we made our way towards his bedroom.
As soon as we crossed the threshold, he pushed me onto the bed, his body following suit. He hovered over me, his eyes dark with desire and his breath heavy with the scent of alcohol. "You're so fucking beautiful," he slurred, his words slightly jumbled. "I want to devour you, my little puppy."
I couldn't help but giggle at his drunken attempt at dirty talk. "You're drunk," I teased, playfully swatting at his chest.
He chuckled, his hand grasping mine and pinning it above my head. "Maybe I am, but I know what I want, and I want you. All of you." His other hand trailed down my body, slipping beneath my dress and caressing my skin.
I squirmed beneath his touch, a mix of anticipation and arousal coursing through my veins. "Then take me," I whispered, my voice laced with desire. "Show me what you've got, Lando."
With a growl, he captured my lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into my mouth with a fervor that left me breathless. His hand continued its exploration, sliding up my thigh and teasing the edge of my panties. I gasped into the kiss, my hips instinctively bucking against his touch.
Lost in the heat of the moment, I surrendered myself to Lando's drunken passion, eager to see where the night would take us.
Lando's lips trailed hot kisses down my neck as his hands continued to explore my body. He nipped and sucked at my sensitive skin, leaving a trail of marks that I knew would be visible in the morning. His drunken dirty talk continued, each word sending a shiver down my spine.
"Fuck, you taste so good," he mumbled against my skin, his hands fumbling with the hem of my dress. "I want to taste every inch of you, my little puppy."
I could feel his eagerness, but I noticed him struggling with my dress. A mischievous idea formed in my mind, and I gently pushed him back onto the bed. He looked up at me with a confused yet amused expression.
"Let me help you with that," I purred, my fingers deftly unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans. His smirk grew wider as he watched me take control.
"Little puppy's not so shy now, huh?" he teased drunkenly, his voice low and husky.
I hooked my fingers into his waistband and slowly pulled his jeans down, revealing his hardness straining against his boxers. "Not when I've got you right where I want you," I replied with a wink.
I leaned down, my hair falling around us like a curtain as I pressed soft kisses along his inner thigh. His hands tangled in my hair, tugging gently as I worked my way closer to his aching member.
"Fuck, Y/N, you're driving me crazy," he groaned, his hips bucking slightly.
I looked up at him through my lashes, my tongue darting out to wet my lips. "That's the idea," I whispered before taking him into my mouth, my lips wrapping around his shaft as I began to work him with my tongue.
I continued to suck on Lando's hardness, my tongue swirling around his shaft as I took him deeper into my mouth. His moans filled the room, his fingers tangled in my hair, guiding me as I pleasured him. I was surprised by my own boldness, but there was something about Lando that made me feel comfortable and confident.
As I bobbed my head up and down, I felt a surge of pride when I tasted his precum. It was a sign of his pleasure, and I reveled in the knowledge that I was the cause of it. However, before I could continue, he gently pulled me off and flipped me onto my back, his body hovering over mine.
He moved to check his drawer for a condom, but after a few moments of rummaging, he cursed under his breath. "Can I... please fuck you? With nothing..." he asked drunkenly, his voice laden with desire.
My face heated up at his request, and I felt a mix of uncertainty and need coursing through me. I knew the risks, but in that moment, all I could think about was how badly I wanted him. His lips trailed kisses along my neck, his hands caressing my skin as he waited for my response.
"Lando," I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper. "Are you sure? We shouldn't..."
But even as the words left my lips, I knew I was already lost in the heat of the moment. His touch ignited a fire within me, and I found myself craving more. I hesitated for a moment longer before finally giving in to my desires.
"Okay," I whispered, my heart pounding in my chest.
A triumphant grin spread across his face as he positioned himself at my entrance. "You won't regret this, pretty girl," he promised, his voice thick with lust.
And with that, he thrust into me, filling me completely. I gasped at the sensation, my nails digging into his back as he began to move inside me. The feeling was intense, overwhelming, and I knew there was no turning back now.
Lando continued to thrust into me, his movements fueled by a mix of lust and alcohol. His hands roamed my body, caressing every curve and dip as he lost himself in the pleasure of our intimate connection. I moaned softly, my hands gripping the sheets beneath us as I surrendered to the sensations coursing through me.
Suddenly, his hand slipped between our bodies, his fingers finding my sensitive clit. He rubbed it gently, his touch sending waves of pleasure through my core. I gasped, my hips bucking against his hand as he skillfully brought me closer to the edge.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he slurred, his drunken dirty talk mingling with the sounds of our lovemaking. "I love how you feel around my cock, baby. You're taking it so well."
His words only heightened my arousal, and I found myself clinging to him, urging him on. I could feel my orgasm building, the pressure inside me growing with each passing second. With a final stroke of his fingers and a particularly deep thrust, I came undone, my body shaking with the intensity of my release.
Lando followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he spilled his seed deep inside me. He collapsed on top of me, his breath hot against my neck as he tried to catch his breath. For a moment, we lay there, our bodies intertwined and our hearts racing.
Slowly, he rolled off of me and pulled me close, his arms wrapping around me in a tender embrace. He kissed my cheek softly, his touch gentle despite his inebriated state. "Was that okay, baby?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically sweet. "Do you need anything? Water, a towel, my bathroom is all yours."
I smiled, touched by his consideration. "I'm good," I assured him, snuggling closer.
As we caught our breath, Lando helped me pull my dress back down, his hands gentle and slightly unsteady due to his inebriated state. He reached up to fix my hair, his fingers combing through the tangled locks with a tenderness that belied his earlier drunken fervor. A smirk played on his lips as he admired his handiwork, clearly pleased with himself for finally getting the girl he had been crushing on.
"Maybe you'll follow me back now, huh?" he joked, referring to the fact that I hadn't followed him on Instagram. "I mean, after that performance, you owe me at least a like or two."
I laughed, shaking my head at his audacity. "We'll see," I teased, not wanting to make any promises just yet.
Lando took my hand and led me back to the party, his arm draped casually around my shoulders.
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Thank you for reading!
Liking and following let’s me know you appreciate the writing! 💜
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#lando norris#lando x reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris smut
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Never Hidden
Stephanie was bored.
Bored
Bored
Bored
bored
bored
It had been a slow week.
There was an Arkham breakout three weeks ago and they finally rounded up the last of them. there's always a few stragglers but everyone seemed to be checked off the list.
She wasn't assigned to any new cases and she's grounded from Missions outside of Gotham for bedazzling the Batmobile last month. It's only like another week but it still feels so long.
She just finished her homework so now honestly she's just looking for something to do. She's honestly just messing with the bat computer until Jason walks in.
"What are you doing here” Jason says pausing after taking his helmet off, looking confused. "I thought you'd be off with Cass”
“Grounded from outside missions” Stephanie replies turning the computer chair around “When do you get back in town”
“ Not even an hour ago” Jason says as he moves to her "What are you doing there, a case?”
“Nah” Stephanie says that she turns back to face the back computer “ I don't got any Active cases, I looked at a couple of in Active cases but ehh”
“So what are you doing” Jason finally reaches her and stops to look
“Honestly just playing around with the controls and snooping” Stephanie pulls up a file on the bat computer “Did you know Damien downloaded his Cheese Viking game onto the bat computer”
“Really” Jason laughs out
“Really, see” Stephanie says that she shows Jason the file “OMG this has been on here for 10 months
“Bruce didn't even let me download stuff he uninstalled Zelda when I tried.”
Stephanie and Jason continue to chat and work through the files on the back computer or at least the ones they have clearance to access. Eventually they get bored and start Looking through the Security camera
The only person in the house was Tim. He wasn't really doing anything exciting but he was on the phone. They watched him for a minute just checking to see what he would do.
They were about to switch off when he started yelling at whoever was on the phone. Both Stephanie and Jason were startled. They zoomed in and turned on the audio.
“I don't have time for your shit Ras.” Tim basically screamed into his phone.
Stephanie's a little surprised that Alfred didn't come walking in to check what's going on.
“you're the one who messed up, so clean up your own messes.” Tim then listens to Ras on the other line speak. "if you learned you know boundaries and actually tried for once then maybe Dan wouldn't be trying to Stage a coup.”
“ Why is Ras talking to Tim about a coup?” Jason asked as he looked over to Stephanie with a raised eyebrow.
Jason thought he'd been away for a while but not long enough for this to happen.
“I have no idea. Every time he talks to me about Ras it sounds like he'd Rejoice if he dropped dead. I didn't even know Tim had his number let alone that they talked.” Stephanie started trying to think of any missions or crises that could have happened for the two of them to talk.
“ he does not get that from me, the entire want for power thing is entirely your fault.“ Tim pulled out a second phone from the bag beside him and looked to be texting someone else as he was listening to the person on the phone.
”I'm texting Dan as we speak I'll figure out what's going on that would make your controlling ass happy.” Tim pauses to listen to the other end of the phone.
“Good.” Tim rolls his eyes and then hangs up the phone.
“That man does not do anything useful.” Tim seems to say to an empty room probably not expecting to be spied on by two bored vigilanties.
What the hell was that both Stephanie and Jason thought to themselves.
#Vlad is Ras#tim is danny#dc x dp prompt#dpxdc#dc x dp#dp x dc#danny phantom#danny fenton#batman#dc x dp crossover#batfam#batfamily#dcxdp#jason todd#stephanie brown#dan phantom#dcxdp prompt
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Genshin Impact Men on New Years:
Characters Included: Kinich, Ororon, Capitano <3
-> oh whooo is she? 👀 yes yes it’s me. I just wanna write on the new genshin babies and i’m so looking forward to it after finishing the Natlan archon quest. Genre: Fluff
-> Kinich:
Normally, the saurian hunter wasn’t someone you’d ever see as your boyfriend. But surprisingly so, Kinish rose up the ranks in your heart. Even Ajaw is… less mean to you. You know that because whenever you visit the Scions of the canopy, you’re greeted fairly by Ajaw & it shocks the others. It’s been a few months since you & Kinich have been together. Today, on the New years eve, he doesn’t want to miss the golden chance of spending more time with you.
Be prepared with a table full of delicious feast, prepared by him & his friends. He takes you out in a special spot where the stars are a little more visible & where you can hear how his heart soars when he sees you. “I wanted to tell you something.” He hums, watching your face glisten under the moonlight sun. “Kinich, it’s almost New Years, you sure we should’ve left everyone else and come here?” You chuckle, eyes beaming in joy. He loves you so much. He is always the sensible one, why then, when its you, that his heart loses. Unfair.
“I wanted to share our New Years kiss in peace.” He hums, pulling you close by the waist, wrapping his hands around your body & brushing his lips with yours. The feeling sends jolts and tingles down your spine. The sound of his heart racing quickly masked with the cheers of people in a distance. “Oh— would you look at that. I kissed you for an entire year.” He winked. Dork. :3 you love him so bad <3
-> Ororon:
Honestly, you never knew that someone as emo-looking as Ororon would ever become your boyfriend. You were new in Natlan & Citlali was one of the few people you were friendly to, Ororon calling her, Grand ma was hilarious. Until you knew why. Eventually, you noticed he brings his fresh produce for everyone who he’s fond of. Until, one of these days it was you. A stock of cabbages, freshly grown by Ororon, a beaming grin on his face as he hums, “Y/N, I have brought something for you.” He smiles. You often wonder why you’re so drawn to his child-like, almost innocent smile & the way he just wants to please you all the time. “You know that’s way too many cabbages for a single person, right?” You chuckle, snorting as he pouts cutely. “Well, yeah, but I just wanted to dedicate this produce to my crush & eventually, hopefully, er- my future girlfriend.”
Oh smooth. He did make you feel a tingle in your heart & he did make you feel like you were seen and heard after a long while. After Natlan was saved by the Archon, you & Ororon decided to take a trip to your homeland, to Sumeru. You settled in Puspa cafe with him, countdowning for the New Years together. “I am glad you decided to come to Sumeru with me.” You purred as he kisses your forehead. “I am glad that you brought me with you.” You chuckled, holding his hand and count downing together.
“Three, two…” and when the clock changed, you kissed Ororon, and he smiled. He has been wanting to say this to you but waited for this exact same moment. “I love you, Y/N.” He hums, catching you by surprise. “What?” Before you could smile and reply, he leaned in and kissed your neck briefly. “I really love you.” He smiled, kissing your forehead. You chuckled, how cute- “I love you too, Ororon.”
-> Capitano:
The embrace of Capitano, big & warm despite the pain & grief he continuously carried. “I missed you, my love.” He brushes against your hair, kissing below your neck. He loved cuddles with you, loved the way your body nudged against him. His body, being the perfect big plushie for you to hug. “I missed you too.” You purred, when you first saw this man, he was the Fatui Harbinger that made Everyone cower. He was famous for being as strong as Archons themselves. For a man of that stature to bring you a bouquet of roses everyday after work as long as you’re in Snezhnaya? Unreal.
“I have formulated some new years plans, my love.” He suggests, taking you by a pleasant surprise. “Hmm, what? You are always couped up by work, and I am often not in Snezhnaya; when else would we spend time?” He croons, the big, dangerous & sexy man famous in all of the Nations in Tevyat is planning a date. Hehe, how adorable, you think.
“What is the date plan?” You turn to straddle his lap instead, nuzzling against his chest. He smells different, smells like rugged leather & rum. You can’t quite put a finger on it, but you love it.
And he does make extravagant date plans, but your New Year’s Eve together is a little different. Capitano decided to cook for you. He made all the Snezhnayan dishes, some very own of his, belonging to Khan’ria. You were delighted that he can be so domesticated and so kind. Enjoying a fulfilling dinner on his lap, hearing stories that you’re sure makes his heart bloom… it’s enchantingly relaxing.
And when the clock strucks into the next year, you can’t help but be happily indulged in the process of falling in love with him, all over again. Dancing with him & kissing him lovingly. Tenderly.
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin fluff#genshin impact fluff#kinich#ororon#capitano#capitano fluff#kinich fluff#ororon fluff#capitano x reader#kinich x reader#ororon x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x you
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roommates ; lando norris + part one
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c0d6c947d6425bda723d021e24086739/299f32f76f32a27b-c6/s540x810/6fba04cb4062bcf8ca872bec48b44619827205ff.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/53160c37fab2fea66acfff97731fe1a9/299f32f76f32a27b-ec/s540x810/991ef1c43cdd4aa654cc548a82ed4366f06a2e6a.jpg)
In which you have to live with your brothers best friend who you really don't like, Lando Norris, and his many 'girlfriends' for a while, but there's always a thin line between love and hate.
masterlist - playlist
lando norris x fem!verstappen reader tw: nothing much yet expect that Lando is a player + i don't proofread + smut will come next chapters!
“You’re kidding me.”
Max is standing in front of you, he can barely withhold his laugh. You can see the first signs of his laugh by the way his mouth corners are up. You’re not focused on your brother and his stupid laugh, you’re focused on his best friend. Lando Norris, who’s holding out his hand to you with a silver key in it. You can only hope that this is some sort of prank, but it doesn’t seem like it.
“No,” Max tells you, “We’re getting renovations and the backup apartment only has two bedrooms.”
“I can sleep on the couch?” You offer hopeless.
“Lando has a room for you,” your brother replies, “and he’s barely home, so what’s the big deal?”
“He’s Lando,” you sigh annoyed.
Lando has been silent before, but this time he speaks up as well. Almost annoyed he grunts, “He’s standing here. You should be grateful instead of acting like a -” “Lando,” Max is quick to interrupt him. Now that Lando thinks back about the words he was going to say, maybe it’s better that Max interrupted him. Calling you a brat who needs to get laid, by him, wouldn’t make him more popular by you. Oops.
“See,” you say with an annoyed look at Lando, “I’ll book a hotel because this is the worst idea ever.”
“You’re going to live in a hotel room in Monaco for a good month or two?” Max asks you surprised, “I’m not paying for that.”
“Babygirl,” Lando starts. You try to silence him with a angry glance, but it doesn’t work. Since the last couple weeks he keeps calling you babygirl, princess or some other terrible nickname. You can’t get him to stop. “I’ll behave,” Lando continues.
“See?” Max asks you with the same tone you used with him earlier.
“Until you beg me to misbeha-”
“Lando for fucks sake,” Max grunts while interrupting his friend again. “I told you it was a bad idea for you to be included in this conversation, you’re only making things worse.”
Lando finally gets the hint and walks away from the room, leaving Max and you alone to talk about all of this. When he’s standing in the hallway, he can’t help himself to stay close by the door. Maybe he can hear something of what you’re saying. In the mean time he looks at his phone, he notices multiple new messages on different platforms. When he opens a couple snaps he’s greeted with nudes from girls he barely recognizes, sometimes with the question when they will see him again. It annoys him. There aren’t many girls who understand that a one night stand is for only one night. He ignores the snaps.
“Max you can’t expect me to live with him,” you tell your brother angrily, “He’s a literal man whore. I will probably stay awake every night that he’s home because he always brings some girl with him.”
“I bet that if you ask him to be a bit more quiet, he’ll do so,” Max disagrees with you.
“Still,” you sigh, “We don’t like each other. Lando and I aren’t friends like the two of you. We’re always arguing.”
“Why don’t you like Lando?” Max asks you, “I mean, you’re often the one who starts with the arguments.”
“That’s now!” You quickly defend yourself, “Earlier it was always Lando who started things. Whenever you left he would always tease me with something.”
Max doesn’t reply this time. You continue to whine about living with Lando. “Can’t you live with Lando? I’m sure Kelly would like it if I’m taking your place.” This time Max chuckles, but he still shakes his head.
“I don’t have another solution then this,” Max tells you eventually. He doesn’t tell you that Lando begged him to let you stay at his place during the renovations. Max also doesn’t tell you that he probably can rent you another apartment for a while, or could have found a place for himself, Kelly, Penelope and you. Lando owns him a lot after this.
“Am I really going to live with Lando?”
“Just for a while,” Max replies with a small smile. It seems like you finally agreed.
Lando is smiling even more on the other side of the door. He’s glad that he’s standing here and hears this. His plan worked. At least, the first step of like a billion steps worked out for him. When he hands you his keys five minutes later, the smile is still plastered on his face.
+++
“We need some ground rules.”
Lando looks away from the street in front of him to throw a short look at you. The two of you are sitting in his car, much to your disliking. He waited at Max his place until you were done with packing so he could take you with him. While packing your stuff, you kept wondering why you decided to live with Max in Monaco, since it caused this drama.
“Ground rules babygirl?” Lando asks you. He tries to focus on the road again, but he feels distracted with you this close next to him.
“Rule one, no more calling me babygirl,” you mutter annoyed.
“Nope,” Lando is quick to answer.
Before you can say anything else, Lando speaks up again. “Let’s talk about your rules later, I’m trying to focus on driving.”
“Didn’t know that a formula one driver had trouble with normal car driving,” you mutter.
Lando laughs softly. You’re without a doubt the most annoying girl he knows, but he wants nothing more then to make you his annoying girl. That can’t be good. It really can’t be. You on the other hand aren’t laughing, you’re still annoyed by everything that happened and is going to happen. You try to distract yourself by wondering about Lando his apartment: how would it look? You expect it to be all manly. Probably no decor, only formula one stuff and more like that.
When Lando parks his car in an underground garage, he’s quick to tell you about how things work in the apartment complex. “If you want, you can park your car here as well,” he tells you after giving a whole explanation about getting in the garage after hours.
“I don’t have a car,” you tell Lando, “I always used one of Max’s.”
“Oh, you can use one of mine then if you need a car,” Lando simply states without even thinking about it. You don’t know what to say. When looking at the multiple cars that are parked on spots that match with Lando his apartment number, you can only wonder what they cost. He is really offering you to use his expensive cars whenever you like? “I’ll show you where the keys are later,” Lando continues, “you don’t have to ask if you want to use them.”
“You’re kidding right?” You ask surprised. Lando is already shocking you. Normally the two of you are always bickering, mostly because of you, so it doesn’t make any sense to you that he’s offering something big like this.
“No babygirl,” he replies, “you can use every one of them.”
“Even your McLaren?” You ask while looking at the special McLaren that Lando owns.
“Even the McLaren.”
You can’t stop yourself and grin. This is a nice thing. Max is always really protective over his cars, certainly the ones who mean a bit more to him or were more expensive. Lando doesn’t seem to care as much. You already can’t wait to try his cars.
Together with Lando you use the elevator to get to his floor. You’re getting more curious about Lando his apartment. Lando on the other hand is thinking about something else. He wonders about how you will be in his apartment. Since Max told him about those renovations, he couldn’t help himself and kept imagining living together with you. Seeing it as his big chance to finally show you that he’s not some little boy anymore and maybe to connect a bit more with you. He hopes that he finally can make sure that you get to know the real him. But he doesn’t have a plan for that yet.
When Lando opens the door and drags your suitcase inside with him, you feel the reality of the situations washing over you. This is it. You’re really living with Lando for now. It feels weird. Lando and you have a complicated past. It’s not as bad as it was before, but you do have a strong opinion about him. And it’s not a positive one.
You remember all those discussions between Lando and you. The times he teased you until you exploded at him. Or the times you started it and made him crazy. Before it could be simple, but when Lando started his ‘fuck boy era’ - at least, that’s how you call it, you’re even more annoyed by him. Every time he comes over he seems to have some sort of story about a random girl who landed in his bed. It annoys you.
“So, what do you think?” Lando pulls you out of your thoughts. Slowly you walk inside his apartment. It’s big. Even bigger then you already expected. About the other things you were kinda right. The interior is nice, but it seems basic. He probably called a specialist once, who made sure he has a nice interior. It’s not bad, but it’s not personal. You miss the simple personal touches. It feels a bit stoic.
“Looks good,” you tell Lando.
“And now your honest opinion?” Lando sees right through you.
“It’s nice,” you say before being honest, “but I miss the personal touches.”
Lando smirks. “Maybe you can take care of that one day,” he jokes. Or better said, he says it like it’s a joke but he would love it if you would actually make his apartment more homey. But you can start with being here.
“Let me show you the rest,” Lando tells you. He grabs your arm and takes you with him. You’re surprised by the way he searches physical contact with you. Even more surprised with the way it feels. Lando shows you the apartment. You’re quick to find out which room has a few personal touches, his game room. If you should call it that at least. Multiple helmets and trophies are standing in shelves leaning on the walls.
Lando doesn’t give you a lot of time to look around at his personal belongings. The same thing happens with his own bedroom. You can barely see his bed and then he closes the door again. He takes you with you to the bathroom, before finally showing you the guest bedroom.
“Think this is okay?” He asks you a bit nervous. You don’t notice the nervous tone in his voice. Slowly you look around in the guest room. It seems nice. There’s plenty room for all your stuff and the bed seems pretty comfortable. You even spot some fresh flowers on the bedside table. Did Lando get those? You can’t imagine it, it must be the doing of his cleaner or something.
Lando sees the way you look at the fresh flowers. He wonders what you’re thinking right now. You probably don’t think that he has bought them himself. He knew beforehand that if you would move in with him, that it would happen today. So earlier this morning he went to the flower shop to get some fresh flowers for your room. Hoping it would make you feel a bit more at home. He doesn’t tell you that he bought them. You probably won’t believe him anyway.
“Yeah,” you reply to Lando earlier question, “this is fine.”
“I hope you don’t snore,” Lando jokes, “the walls are thin.”
“Then I hope you don’t take a girl with you every night,” you throw back.
“Jealous?” Lando questions you with a raised eyebrow.
“All though, I don’t think I’ll hear the girl much,” you continue, “You’re probably more concerned about your own pleasure.”
“Fucking hell babygirl,” Lando grunts annoyed, “Just wait until you find out how concerned I am about your pleasure.”
You try to withhold any sort of reaction to be shown. Inside you’re going crazy. Lando always makes remarks that are a bit on the bold side, but he never made them this sexual. Fuck. You can’t think about stuff like this.
“That brings me back to my earlier statement, we need some rules,” you tell Lando.
“I need rules in my own home?” He asks you surprised. Of course he knew this was coming, but after your remarks Lando isn’t making this easy for you.
“Yes,” you sigh, “because otherwise we’re going to fight every day.”
“Maybe I like that,” Lando continues to annoy you.
You let out a sigh. Lando lets out a soft chuckle. It’s so easy to tease you. He knows he should stop, but you know what they say, right? Boys always tease the girls they like the most. He walks back to the living room with you and offers you something to drink before getting on the couch next to you.
“What rules do you suggest, babygirl?” He then asks you.
“One, no more calling me babygirl,” you tell him just as you did earlier today.
“Nope,” Lando states, it’s the same answer he gave you the first time. You don’t react to his no, you continue with the rest of your rules.
“Rule number two, I don’t want to meet every other girl you bring here,” you say.
“Afraid you’d get jealous?” Lando asks you teasingly. He can only hope that it’s like that, but he knows better. You’re not jealous of those girls. He understands this rule, it would be a mess if he needed to explain to every girl why you’re living with him and that you’re not his girlfriend. Plus, maybe he should stop bringing this many girls to his apartment. His phone is blowing up by the ones who he gave his number, a lot of them expect something more - while he made clear it would be a one time thing. And maybe, really maybe, it’s not fair for those girls that he uses them to forget about you for a bit.
Some stupid plan that doesn’t even work anyways. Every time a girl is laying underneath him, he can only imagine that it’s you. He wonders how it would feel when it was actually you. How you would sound. There have been many girls, but he thinks about the same girl every time. You.
“That’s okay,” Lando responds to your rule, “I’ll try.”
You nod satisfied. “And maybe you can also tone it down a bit with the sexual remarks towards me?” You ask him after your succes.
“No, no,” Lando quickly replies, “I want to say to you what I think.”
You roll your eyes, but don’t say anything else on the subject. “How do you want to do this Lando?” You ask him eventually. “Do you want to live together or next to each other? Want to have dinner together or? I really don’t know how this can work.”
“Let’s try to live together,” Lando tells you hopefully, “We can have dinner together and inform each other a bit about when we’re home or not.”
“Sure?” You ask surprised. You expected him to chose the other option.
“Sure babygirl.”
+++
That evening the two of you decided that Lando could have a cheat day with his healthy diet. Together you ordered some take out.
“Remember when you DM’ed this girl to get McDonalds with you,” you tease when Lando offers to order some McDonalds. He sends you an angry glare. “She didn’t seem to interested,” you continue to tease.
“Are you going to eat McDonalds with me or not?” Lando asks you annoyed, “because otherwise I’ll find a girl who will.”
After eating together, you decided to test out the bathroom by taking a shower. When you walk in nothing more then a small towel wrapped around your body back to your bedroom, you decide that you will unpack and organize tomorrow. For now you only need to find something to sleep in. You rummage through your bagage, but there’s no pyjama in sight. Fuck. Clothes are quickly scattered around on the bedroom floor.
“Fuck,” you mutter.
You wonder if Lando has something you can wear for tonight, tomorrow you can get your other stuff. In nothing more then a towel on your body, you walk out of your room and start to search for Lando. You hold the towel closely to your body, not wanting to flash Lando. He isn’t in the living room or kitchen, you continue to search. When you hear noises coming out of his game room, you softly knock on the door.
“Lando?” You ask while knocking again.
In no time the door is opened. Lando is standing in front of you. You feel a bit distracted when you look at Lando. In some weird way you can’t stop looking at him. The earlier hoodie he was wearing has made place for a white blouse. It suits him. He looks so fine. Fuck.
“Can I borrow one of your shirts?” You ask him.
Lando doesn’t know what to think, or what to say, or what to do. His eyes are glued on the towel that’s wrapped around your body. Is it really the only thing you’re wearing right now? He can’t even think or function properly right now. He can’t look away from your almost bare body. Fuck, he already knows what he’s thinking about the next couple times while trying to orgasm. Your body looks even better then he already thought. He notices your curves and the way the towel accentuates them even more.
“Did you hear me?” It’s your voice that pulls him out of his thoughts.
“Oh no sorry,” he quickly mutters. He tries to look you in the eyes, but his eyes keep hanging on your body. He focusses on your breasts which are almost in his sight. It’s not hard to miss that you’re a bit cold, your nipples are coming through the towel.
“I wondered if you have something for me to sleep in?” You ask Lando again, surprised he didn’t hear you the first time. “I forgot my pajamas at home.”
“Of course,” Lando quickly replies. He takes you with him to his bedroom and searches through his closet for a bit. When he found a particular shirt, he’s quick to hand it to you. It’s not a coincidence that he chose a shirt with his name all over it. He hopes he’s going to see you into it. Within seconds you have left him alone again.
Lando sighs and walks back to the other room. This is going to be hard for him, but he can only hope that he’ll manage to win your heart eventually. When his phone vibrates, he quickly looks at it.
Max: Explain how I’m FaceTiming with Y/N and seeing her in one of your shirts already???
writers note ; don't really know yet how i'm going to write this one, so every idea is welcome :) let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! ps; i changed the playlist link to a new one
part two
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris imagine#ln4#formula one#f1#lando norris imagines#roommates
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2/2
★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader
★ synopsis: Yuuji Itadori truly was the best friend a girl like you could ask for, but he wasn't the only reason you came to visit. (His older brother, the devilishly handsome Choso Kamo, had always been the apple of your eye).
★ c.w.: slow burn, friends to lovers, eventual smut, childhood sweethearts, kinda, mutual pining, choso with a tongue piercing, rough sex, cunnilingus, backshots, unprotected sex, regular people au, two year age gap, PWP.
★ a/n: part two! its all smut lol. anyway, like I said, this one shot is finished (just split btw two chaps bc theres 11k words). but if u comment and persuade me who knows! I can always do another. im a whore for ur validation.
★ w.c.; 5k
best friend's brother ; chapter index
YUUJI COOCHIE <3
| come over tn?
| i got smth i wanna run by u first
YOU
| omw.
You stood on Itadori’s porch, finger poised over the doorbell a month after your eighteenth birthday. You had been anticipating to see your best friend, Itadori. But as the door swings open, what you don’t expect is to come face to face with Itadori’s older brother.
Your heart drops, and your breath catches in your throat as you take in his appearance. It felt for a moment as if time had stood still since you last saw him. He had only grown more handsome during your time apart. His dark hair was done back into two messy buns, deep bags residing beneath his deep eyes.
Choso looked absolutely breathtaking . His fitted black tee clung to his chest and arms, showing off his toned physique, while the baggy black sweats he was sporting gave him an effortlessly cool appearance.
His presence exudes a magnetic charm that takes you back to when you were 17. His half smirk sends a wonton shiver down your spine.
“Hey there,” He says, deep, rich voice sending ripples of familiarity throughout your body.
When his lips pull away from his teeth, forming syllables and words, you couldn’t help but notice a small glint of metal near the tip of his tongue. You realized immediately what had seemed so different about him, and your eyes widened in surprise.
“You pierced your tongue?” You blurt out, unable to hide your shock.
Choso nearly snorts, though his eyes never leave yours. “You’re not surprised to see me?” He teases.
“I am,” You retort quickly, trying to regain your composure. “You’re home for the holidays?”
He nods, gaze still fixed on your red face. “Just came home last night.”
That would explain why I didn’t see you, you thought.
“I’m glad you came, though, I’ve been holding onto your birthday gift for a while now,” He sighed, stepping aside to let you into the house but keeping his arm braced on the doorframe.
You slide under his muscular arm, doing your best to ignore the way your body bristled with electricity when you brushed up against him.
You set your bag on the ground near the door, kicking off your shoes and neatly pushing them aside while Choso locked the door behind you.
“It’s in my room,” he said, passing you.
You followed him nervously up the stairs into his bedroom, heart pounding a little louder with every step. This would be the first time you would find yourself alone in Choso’s room, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.
As you enter his bedroom, you drank in your surroundings – a rare sight. The room was a reflection of Choso’s personality; band tees all over the walls, sheets laid flat and clean, laundry sitting in a basket in a neat, folded pile – a subtle hint of organized chaos.
It felt both familiar and new at the same time. The air was thick with anticipation, and memories of your whirlwind summer fling with Choso came flooding back.
You brace your hands on the door. “Is Itadori home?” You ask him, hands tracing the doorframe while Choso rummaged through his drawer. You sat on his bed.
“Nah,” he replied casually.
Furrowing your brows, you tried to make sense of the situation. But told me to come over…
“Is he coming?” You tried again, voice tinged with uncertainty.
Choso rose up from the bedside drawer, extending a small box towards you with a slight grin. “Nope,” he said.
The realization hit you like a freight train. This was a fucking setup, and Itadori was the mastermind behind it all.
He wanted you alone with his brother. He knew about your fling with him.
He didn’t notice when the two of you had disappeared to the pantry for ten minutes.
Though the moment you returned to see him glancing at you with a curious brow raised, you knew he had finally caught on. Even if he didn’t say anything about it.
He knew.
He had set you up.
Your face was on fire. Still, you took the small box from Choso, an awkward smile on your face, and carefully undid the little bow. As you opened it, you revealed its contents – a tee shirt with Choso’s University crest on it, a glace pendant on a fabric necklace, and a box set of your favorite film saga.
Choso had never given you a gift for your birthday before, at least not anything beyond a card. Briefly, you wondered if it was his way of making up for your 18th birthday party, the one he had missed.
“Choso…” You began, a humorous grin on your lips. “Merch?”
He shrugged playfully, his gaze locked onto yours. “In case you miss me,” he replied, tone teasing yet sincere.
With a genuine smile, you leaned over and hugged him. “I love it,” you had told him.
Choso reached into the box for the necklace, gesturing for you to come closer. You leaned in, allowing him to loop the fabric over your head. His fingers brushed against your skin, your neck as he adjusted it.
He froze. You froze.
For a while, the room was quiet. There was an intense stare-off between you two. Choso cleared his throat, seemingly about to break the moment, but you had other plans. Gently, you gripped his chin between your index finger and your thumb, turning his head back to you.
Gently, you tugged his lower lip down. He stuck his tongue out to wet the corner of his lips in return.
Your breath hitched as your gazes locked, and the air in the room shifted. Choso’s dark eyes shifted beneath your gaze, and you found yourself drawn closer to him.
You swallowed. “How bad did it hurt?” You asked, eyes fixed on the sliver of metal you had caught a glimpse of inside of his mouth.
Choso raised a finger towards his mouth, bringing your attention back to his tongue. “This?” He asked. “Hurt like a bitch, not gonna lie, but it healed up real nice.”
Wordlessly, he stuck his tongue out so you could see it up close. You examined it carefully – it really had healed up rather nicely. There was a small, silver ball wedged into the pink muscle. You wondered how it would feel on your lips, your neck, your body .
Choso closed his mouth. “I got it the first weekend after move-in day,” He explained.
“Why?” You inquired, curiosity finally getting the better of you.
He shrugged with a smirk, “Thought it would look hot. What do you think?”
“I think it looks like a pain in the ass,” You retorted. “Don’t any of the girls you kiss complain about that thing?”
“Quite the contrary,” he remarked, licking his lips. “Why’d you ask?”
You tried to ignore the jealousy that bubbled up inside of you, deep inside of you at the thought of him kissing other girls. You had to remind yourself who you were talking to here. You would have been naive to expect loyalty from a college freshman.
“Looks cold,” you commented instead. “I don’t imagine that would feel very good.”
And his eyes, those dark, beautiful cesspools of emotion, dropped down to your lips, lingering for a moment too long before returning to meet your gaze. “You wanna find out?” He asked.
“Piss off,” You scoffed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. But the blush on your cheeks betrayed the effect his words had on you. “Fuckin’ tease.”
He didn’t move back. No, instead, he leaned in a little closer. “You sure?” He whispered, warm breath grazing the shell of your ear. “I can show you how good it feels, if you want.”
And that’s how you wound up here, with his face buried between your legs. He kissed his way up and down the skin of your thighs. You made quick work of his twin buns, tugging the ties out of his hair.
His lips curled into a knowing smirk. He lifted one of your legs onto his broad shoulder, running his tongue along the length of your inner thigh, pressing a kiss right where your ass met your legs. The metal ball on his tongue felt odd against your skin, but not necessarily unpleasurable.
You had never gone this far with him before. You were turned on beyond comprehension, hungry eyes drinking in the rosey hue that dusted his pale complexion while he sucked on your skin – hard enough for it to hurt, hard enough to leave a mark.
Tenderly, Choso reached for your panties. He appeared to be on the precipice of a decision.
“Can I…” He panted, trailing his thumb over the thin piece of fabric that separated the two of you. “Can I take these off?”
You nodded quickly, lifting your hips up for him while he guided the panties off of your legs.
He licked his lips and parted your legs a second time, fully exposing you to his ravenous gaze.
“You look like heaven,” He breathed out, voice trembling. He took a moment to admire you, smiling at the way you tried to hide your face. “Wanna taste…”
You had never done this before. The one man you had ever dared to hook up with hadn’t bothered. So you swallowed the lump in your throat, watching him get down on all fours and dip his head down between your legs like a man with his head bowed in worship.
Though you were far from holy, in that moment, you felt like you were God.
His tongue was hot and wet against your skin, licking a stripe from bottom to top. The metal ball of his tongue piercing caught on your puffy clit, eliciting a quiet gasp.
“Feel good, baby?” He teased, relishing in the way your thighs tensed around his head. His eyes flitted between you and your pussy – spread open for him like a buffet – pupils blown wide with desire. His pink lips parted around his tongue a second time, and this time you watched him.
Watched him press the metal ball against your clit, rolling over it in slow, steady circles.
You felt like you could die here.
He adjusted his grip on your hips, pulling you down on the bed until you felt his nose pressing in between your folds. He kissed your heat, moaning into you. Then, without so much as a warning, he began to eat you out like a starved man.
“Fuck, Cho–” You cried out for him, reaching down to tangle your fingers into his inky black tresses. You had never felt so good in your life, like he had been waiting for this as long as you had. You were sensitive, far too sensitive to comprehend the way your body felt, the way his tongue piercing felt as it glided over your hot flesh.
He didn’t slow down. He licked, slurped, and kissed your swollen clit, keeping that unforgiving pace up until your hips began to jump against his tongue.
“Shit,” You hissed,
He moaned into you in response, meeting your gaze with an intense fire burning behind his eyes. His tongue massaged you up to what you know would be the hardest orgasm of your life – that damn piece of metal made for one hell of a stimulant. It felt like it was pressing right up into your pressure points, deeper than his tongue was able to reach.
You felt yourself come apart at the seams, reduced to a moaning mess in a matter of minutes, riding his tongue like your life depended on it. He stopped moving for a moment, letting you grip him by the hair and ride his face.
You couldn’t look away.
He looked amazing, fire burning behind his eyes, fingertips biting into the skin of your thighs, brows furrowed with concentration. His eyes never left yours, not even once.
You dropped your head onto the pillow, sitting back and allowing him to resume what he had been doing earlier – that thing with his tongue.
And resume it he did, assuming a more demanding pace this time. It almost made you want to cry – the pace, the ball on his tongue – it was almost too much to bear. It felt so good.
You felt that familiar coil in your abdomen, almost like you were about to cum, then in a moment’s width he had pulled away.
You struggled to regain your surroundings, vision cloudy and hazy with pleasure. You could hear your rampant heartbeat racing in your own ears.
Choso leaned back with a stretch, cracking his neck and licking his lips. The entirebottom half of his face was drenched, dripping with an obscene mixture of your slick and his spit.
He looked gorgeous, even when his face was tinted red.
“Choso…” You breathed, letting a breathless chuckle slip between your parted lips.
He grinned back at you. “Any complaints?”
You didn’t glorify him with a response, gripping him by the fabric of his shirt and tugging him up and over you. You searched for his lips, locking them between yours in a messy, heated kiss. The taste of you lingered on his tongue, tangy and a little sweet.
“Shut up and fuck me, Kamo,” You panted with a grin of your own.
That was all he needed to push you onto your back, diving back in to ravage your lips again. It was all a rushed, passionate haze – he tugged your tee shirt over your head, you shoved your skirt down to your ankles and kicked it off the side of the bed. He leaned back with a stretch to reach for the back of his shirt, tugging it over his head and flinging it to the side.
Your mouth nearly watered for him. He was everything you had dreamed of and so much more. Well defined arms, pecs, abs – a few tattoos littered the broad expanse of his chest. His torso tapered down into a thin, slutty waist. You let your hand slide down his abdomen, eliciting a quiet groan from him as your painted fingernails caught on his toned abs, ghosted over the large tent in his sweats that left nothing to the imagination.
He was big. Bigger than you had anticipated. The last man you were with was about 3 inches (which was probably for the better, because it had been your first time). He felt about three times as big as that. Maybe more.
It didn’t take long for him to flip you onto your stomach, pulling your ass flush against his navel. He reached for a handful of your hair, jerking your head to the side, then uttered against your ear, “G’nna fuck that attitude right out’ta you.”
He left you for a moment while he undid the strings of his sweatpants. You couldn’t watch. You knew if you saw it, you would have doubts.
But you found yourself looking back anyway, right as he had told you. “Wanna reach into that drawer and grab me a condom?”
“Are you um…” You swallowed. “You don’t have any diseases, do you?”
You knew you were clean because you were so disgusted by the man you had hooked up with before Choso that you’d taken yourself to the planned parenthood in town the day after to be tested. Even if you had used a condom.
Choso’s brow quirked up at that. “No, I don’t have any STDs. I get tested twice a year.”
Oh. Okay.
Again, you didn’t want to think about how many women had taken his dick before you.
“Never gone raw before, though,” He mused quietly, hand rubbing mindless circles over the skin of your ass.
“Really?” You asked.
“Is that a surprise?” He retorted, though he didn’t seem very hurt by your comment. “Can’t babytrap me.”
You thought about definitely didn’t think about Choso being a father.
“Is there any way for you to, like…” You hummed, trailing off. Your inexperience had never been more disgustingly apparent. “Pull out?”
“You’re talking like this is your first time,” he laughed breathily.
You paused. His eyes widened.
“Is… this your first time?” He asked again.
“I had sex with this one guy from my class a while ago,” You said after an awkward silence. “He was small and, like, really bad at it.”
Choso seemed humored by your honest admission, though it came at the expense of your own embarrassment. “Why’d you go through with it, then?”
“I only did it to get back at you,” You turned your head back to the pillowcase below you. With a pout, you admitted, “Thought for some reason that by me having sex, I was proving something. I was younger and stupider, okay?”
“So… you’ve only had sex once?” He asked. You didn’t realize this was an interrogation.
You nodded embarrasedly. Somehow this was more humiliating than being spread open for him like you were right now.
“You sure you want this?” He hummed, roaching forward to tuck your hair behind your ear. It was strangely intimate. When you nodded, he sighed. “We’ll go slow, then. I don’t wanna hurt you–”
“Don’t treat me like I’m fragile,” You cut him off, finally turning back to look at him. “I can take it, okay? Just answer the damn question.”
Choso leaned down over you, pinning you into the bed, kissing down your spine. “We can… do backshots,” he murmured against your skin. “Want that?”
“Mhm,” You sighed, easing into his touch.
You had waited far too long for this for something like a condom to get in between the two of you. You wanted to feel him. All of him.
Choso rolled back, slipping his tip between your fold and swiping it through your slick. You watched him, watched the way he bit his lip at the sensation, eyes glued onto the place where you met him .
He pursed his lips, letting spit fall from his lips. You watched it dribble down, landing right onto your twitching hole.
That was so fucking hot .
Then, without a word of warning, he pushed the tip in. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, feeling the burn, the stretch of his girth inside of you. He paused for a moment when the tip was the only thing inside of you, brows drawn together, breaths shallow.
It took everything you had not to cry out in pain. You had been waiting your whole life for this.
But, shit, it hurt. He was big. You felt your body struggle to accommodate him.
Maybe some prep should have been in order…
Oh well, gotta see it through.
As if sensing your internal dilemma, Choso reached down, intertwining his fingers with yours. He placed a soft kiss to the back of your neck.
“You okay?” He asked you.
No . Yes.
“Yeah,” You bit out. “Just… I ‘jus need a minute.”
“Just tell me when,” he pressed another kiss to your hot skin. “You’re doing so good.”
It took you a few more minutes to adjust to him. Every minute, he would slip in a little further, just enough to make your skin hot and flushed. You could feel him throbbing inside of you, throbbing against your spongy walls.
Eventually, you gave him the green light. And, fuck, it was like something inside of him had snapped. He slid the rest of the way in until his hips were flush with your ass. He drew out, slowly, then thrust back in again.
It felt like he was pulling you apart over and over again, snapping his hips against yours in a progressively harder fashion.
Choso whimpered quitedly, pausing his harsh movements to change pace. You clenched around him in response, something that made him double over. “Ah, fuck,” He gasped. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”
He drew back, thrusting into you once more. You felt your whole body jolt forward with a loud moan of your own.
With wild, passionate eyes, Choso pulled out again, leaving just enough room for the tip. Then, he slammed back into you. Again, again, again – he was relishing in the way you cried into the pillow.
“Fuck, fuck,” You chanted, like some sort of sinful prayer. “ Fuck me, Cho– ”
“Might not last long if you keep callin’ my name like that,” He gasped, tangling a large hand into your messy tresses and gripping it tightly.
You drew your brows together, allowing yourself to be lost in the pleasure, the attention he was giving you. What would Itadori think, you wondered, if he walked in on you like this – face down ass up in his big brother’s bed?
“Choso ,” You groaned into the pillow. It felt like he was scratching an itch deep inside of you – not your coochie, but your soul. It felt like you were made for this. “ Choso, Fuck. ”
Itadori slipped into his house with a quiet sigh. He kicked his shoes off, set his bag down on the floor, and then reached for his scarf. It had been one long, hellish day. He felt bad making you wait for him, but he didn’t doubt that you would have made yourself right at home in his bedroom by now. You were probably sprawled out over his bed, passed out or playing with his PS5.
He froze when he heard something come from upstairs. It sounded like furniture being moved around, or something like that. There were voices, too.
With knitted brows, he walked hesitantly towards the stairs. Was it coming from up there?
“Fuck, Choso,” He heard a vaguely familiar – albeit very muffled voice – moan.
It was you. You and another muffled voice.
“Choso, Choso!”
“Right there?”
“Fuck– yes! Don’t stop!”
He quirked a brow. Then, with a sigh and a dejected shake of his head, he hid away in the kitchen.
“Please!” You gasped, you fumbled around behind you in search of his hand. He grabbed it, pinning your arm behind your back and thrusting into your sore pussy from a new angle – one that made you feel dizzy. You didn’t know how long the two of you had been going at it. All you knew was that you never wanted it to end, that your mind was a blissful haze.
Your body slid up against the bedsheets – up and down, up and down, clenched fingers leaving wrinkles in their wake.
“Fuck me harder,” You pled.
And fuck you harder he sure did. His chest rolled against your backside, pinning you into the mattress and holding you right where he wanted you. Then he fucked you a little harder.
You were all but screaming his name at that point. “Choso–”
The head of his cock was bullying into you, beating against that spot deep within you that made your feet fly up, rubbing the back of his thighs as if to tell him ‘ keep going’.You gripped the sheets with unwarranted strength, feeling yourself drip and clench around him – hearing the obscene squelch you made when the two of you met in the middle.
“ Fu-u-uck ,” You cried, voice high and weak.
“Quit suckin’ me in like that,” He chuckled, though it was cut short by a deep, guttural groan as you did it again. “ Shit , you want kids or somethin’?”
There was a knot in your stomach. A vaguely familiar warmth that seemed to only grow hotter by the second.
“ So perfect, so wet ,” Choso commended you, licking the shell of your ear, peppering butterfly kisses to the back of your neck. Your name fell out of his pretty lips between a cacophony of sinful noises.
You felt yourself get lost in him, craning your head around to take another look at him. His angelic face, scrunched up with pleasure, mouth hanging open just slightly, pale face dusted with pink. Inky black hair plastered to his forehead and neck with sweat. The muscles in his chest and torso rippled.
“I’ve wanted you…” You gasped, trying your best to articulate despite the stimulation he was giving you – it was almost too much. “Since I was young – fuck .”
His hips stuttered. He pulled your hair away from your neck, kissing the junction where your jaw met your neck.
He gripped your hair to crane your head back, slowing his thrusts to long, deep strokes that had you trembling.
“The feeling was mutual,” Choso grunted, trying to keep himself together.
You felt your eyes roll almost all the way back into your fucking head, mouth hanging open, drooling shamelessly on his pillow, his sheets.
You were close. So close.
Those deep, lust-filled eyes of him weren’t doing anything to slow the train that was coming. Each thrust, each slide of his cockhead against your g-spot brought you closer and closer to the edge.
“You feel even better than I imagined,” He growled, and you nearly came right then and there.
He moved his hands so that your hips were up in the air for him, bringing his other arm around your neck to pin you there. When he picked up pace this time, you felt yourself drip – like, actually drip – all over him.
I wanna have his kids .
Your moans and pleas matched the pace of his sloppy thrusts. He was getting close, too. You could hear it. No, seriously, noises like that should have been criminal.
The feeling of being filled by him was driving you up the wall – almost as hard as he was currently driving you into the mattress. You never wanted it to end.
But, shit, it was about to.
“Choso,” You whimpered. He didn’t slow down. “Think ‘m g’nna cum.”
“Yeah?” he gritted out, breath fanning over your neck and your cheek. He reached a hand down, releasing your neck to rub slow circles on your puffy clit – a speed that felt foreign compared to the harsh strokes he was giving you, but not entirely unwelcome.
That was all it took to have you hurling towards the edge, ass jumping up and down to meet his thrust in the middle, to take as much of him in as you possibly could.
“Yeah, shit,” He gasped. He was trying to hold on for you, but you were making it realhard. “G’nna cum for me, baby? Lemme fuckin’ hear it.”
You were all but throwing it back on him, mindlessly chasing your release like a bitch in heat. The moment you got the green light, your orgasm snapped. You cried out his name one final time, arching your back all the way into the sheets, spasming wildly around him. The shock tore through you in waves.
Your hips jolted with hypersensitivity while he fucked you through it.
Choso’s hips stuttered. He twitched, like he couldn’t take another minute of this, then he remarked, “That was so fuckin’ hot, holy shit – fuck, wait–”
He slid out of you rapidly, leaving you to gasp at the sudden loss of him. The next thing you know, he was stroking himself to completion. He came with a broken whimper of your name, spurting ropes of warm cum all over your back.
You took a moment to catch your breath. He did the same. A few moments, actually.
The silence that followed was deafening. He groaned, running a shaky hand through his hair. You collapsed into the bed.
He had left the bedside at one point, though only for a moment before he returned with a warm wash rag. He cleaned his love paint off of your spine.
Then, tossing the rag into his hamper, he collapsed next to you.
You chuckled breathlessly, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him with all of the strength you had left in you (not much). “Shit…”
“Shit,” he agreed, licking his lips. “You were great.”
“You were better,” You said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk home tonight, though.”
Choso shrugged. He reached down, pulling the covers over the two of you. “Sleep here, then.”
Sleep here.
You recalled many nights of him walking girls to the door. Choso never let girls stay the night.
He wants me to spend the night with hiim.
You laughed, reveling in the irony of it all. Years and years of pining led you here, to this. “What would Itadori think?”
Choso threw an arm over your waist, pulling you closer to his side. “Fuck what Itadori thinks.”
Your world went black a moment later.
Your eyes fluttered open as you lay in the aftermath of a steamy evening with the man of your dreams. Choso, your best friend’s brother. The one you had fucked.
His lips were pressed into the slightest pout. You watched him snore, taking note of how peaceful he looked while he slept, taking note of the way his tousled black hair fell into his pretty face.
With a contented sigh, you reached for a shirt that lay nearby – his shirt. The one he had taken off yesterday. You slipped out from beneath the covers, padding quietly out of Choso’s bedroom. Your feet were quiet against the wooden steps.
As you entered the living room space, you contemplated sneaking into the kitchen in search of some much-needed sustenance. It had to have been later in the afternoon at that point – you assumed that you and Choso had been sleeping for a few hours, at least. Your stomach grumbled in agreement.
Just as you were about to step into the familiar kitchen, however, you froze. There, sitting at the table, munching on a Kit Kat bar like it was no one’s business, was her best friend.
Itadori.
“Hey…” You said rather awkwardly, heart racing. “You’re… you’re home.”
Itadori quirked a brow, looking you up and down curiously. His eyes noticeably lingered on your neck, right were you had a sneaking suspicion Choso had marked you with his lips and teeth.
“Hey,” He finally said. “You two finally done up there?”
“You heard that. Of course you did,” You sighed, dropping your stiff arms and plopping into the stool next to him at the kitchen island. You faceplanted into the cold surface, groaning, “How much did you hear?”
“Enough to know my brother’s good in bed,” Itadori took another bite. He placed a heart over his chest, feigning an exaggerated cry of, “ Choso– oh, Choso, don’t stop, I’m cu–”
“He told me you weren’t coming home,” You groaned, even louder this time. You were glad that Itadori couldn’t see the nasty shade of red that had painted your features.
“He lied,” Your best friend chuckled, crumpling the wrapper of his Kit Kat bar and tossing it in the trash bin. He stood off, dusting his hands on his pants, reaching for his phone. Then, like nothing had happened, he said, “I’m ordering Chinese. You want?”
You raised your head at that, taking a slow glance at the room around the two of you. “I could go for some beef and broccoli…”
You loved the bond you had with Yuuji. Unbreakable, truly. Sometimes a little toocomfortable. This was, undoubtedly, one of those times.
Itadori dialed a few numbers into his phone. He paused, raising his brow again, “I think you’ve had enough meat tonight, don’t you?”
“Shut the fuck up,” You sighed, though you laughed a bit at his joke.
Images of Choso flashed through your mind. The image of him spitting on the tip before slipping it in. The image of him tangling a fist in your hair, craning your head back to look at him while he pounded you into the mattress.
With a faint smirk of your own, you remarked. “You’re probably right. I should save room for all of the meat I’m gonna be eatin’ tonight after you go to bed.”
“Please shut up,” Itadori sighed, running the palms of his hands over his exasperated face. With a shake of his head, he held the phone up to his ear. “I really don’t want to think about my brother putting his dick in you. Not while dinner is also in the question.”
You shrugged. Your phone buzzed. Turning it over, you read the new message you had received.
CHOSO just now
Whered u go beautiful
Your phone chimed a second time.
CHOSO just now
Steamed dumplings n fried rice plz
You turned the screen over with a grin, telling Itadori. “Your brother wants steamed dumplings and fried rice.”
“I’d say fuck my brother, but tonight’s game night and I don’t want you taking that literally,” Itadori sighed. Still, he unmuted himself, telling the woman on the other side of the phone, “Another order of fried rice and dumplings, too, please.”
Yuuji Itadori really was the best friend a girl like you could ask for.
a/n: hi there my little steamed dumplins <33 lmk what u thought!!! I love reading ur comments and dms. again, this is a one shot, but I would totally drop another part if yall would like -- gotta show papa choso some love. comment and lmk what u think pookiesss
comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!
I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.
taglist: @missphanosaur18 ,
wanna join the ' choso kamo ' taglist?| bfb; chapter index
#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚#choso kamo#kamo choso#choso#choso jjk#choso x reader#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo x you#choso x you#chousou#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#yuuji itadori#itadori x reader#geto x reader#gojo x reader#choso smut#choso fluff#jjk x reader
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Fifteen Months
Din Djarin x Cam Girl Reader AU
Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: You've known and loved Din for Fifteen Months. Here's a glimpse into your life with him. Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v sex , oral (m and f receiving), fingering, voyeurism, fucking on camera, cum eating, lap dance, sex work, din carries you, duck pond emotions, a spray painted mandalorian helmet, goats!, farm life. Words: 8,700
Fifteen Masterlist Masterlist
—-
“Morning,” a rumbly voice says against your forehead with a kiss. “We have two new kids.”
Your eyes open wide, your heart leaping with excitement as you jump out of bed quickly. Din hastily backs away with a grin on his face.
“She had them?!” you ask as you pull on a pair of pants and grab your robe.
“She did. She’s doing good,” he says, smiling at your excitement. “The babies are healthy and happy, already nursing and everything.”
You run down the steps, Grogu at your feet. Boba’s waiting at the front door, standing guard, his tail wagging in greeting when he sees you.
Din leans over and kisses you as you throw your jacket on and step into your boots.
“Oh, good morning, by the way,” you chuckle as you throw the door open and feel the early morning chill of spring in the air.
You wrap your jacket tighter around you, your boots squishing in the dewy grass as you follow Din to the little shelter on the side of the main goat pin.
Dorothy looks up at the sound of the gate creaking. Your favorite goat looks peaceful as her two new babies are cuddled close to her.
“Hi, sweet girl,” you coo, softly stepping towards her before kneeling down to pet her head. “Look at your babies. They’re perfect.”
“Were you up all night with her?” you turn and ask Din.
“Just about,” he yawns.
“You could have come and got me,” you say, rising and dusting the straw off your knees.
“I wanted you to get some sleep,” he replies, his eyes heavy with fatigue but a little brightness, too. “Besides, I wanted to surprise you.”
Din steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you back against him.
“They’re so perfect,” you muse, watching the little kids stand on wobbly legs and find their footing in the new world.
“They are,” he admires, tightening his hold. “Cobb’s on his way. He’s going to take care of everything since I was up all night.”
—-
As the weeks turned to months together, the long-distance from Din almost became unbearable, it kept getting harder and harder to leave Din and his farm every time you’d visit him.
So, you sold the townhouse you had worked hard to pay for on your own and moved across the country to live with Din. The idea of being separated any longer had become too much to bear, so you left behind all that was familiar to be with him.
That was five months ago. Dorothy, your favorite goat, started showing signs of her pregnancy only a couple of weeks after you moved in.
Wicket the rooster's crow is now your alarm clock, waking you up every morning in Din's arms, his handsome face only inches away. It’s hard to pull yourself away from his warm arms and soft lips, but the farm chores are waiting for both of you.
Together, you tend to the herd, milking the nannies and bottle-feeding the playful kids who frolic in the pasture. Din's gentle patience for you and all of his animals never fails to fill your heart with love.
During the afternoons, while Din takes care of the farm repairs and building projects, you tend to the garden–your hands buried in the rich soil as you plant and nurture fruits and vegetables that will eventually grace your table.
Evenings are spent in cozy domesticity with Din and your dogs, curling up next to him on the porch swing to watch the sunset paint the sky as Din’s fingers caress your skin.
At night, after all the chores are done, you still do your webcam shows, but no longer for private customers–a decision you made on your own once you left Din’s home the first time.
Din always helps you set up the equipment and watches off-camera, his heated gaze watching your every move.
You’ve embraced Din, his farm, and his life—much like he embraced you and your choice of career. You could never imagine your life without him. This life, with its simplicity and authenticity, is everything you never knew you needed, a blissful escape from the hectic pace and superficial trappings of your old life.
And you couldn't be more grateful for it all.
—-
“Din,” you whisper in his ear and leave a kiss against his cheek. “Cobb just left. It’s almost time for my show.”
Big brown eyes blink open, a smile lights his tired face.
“Hey,” he yawns. “Can’t believe I slept that long.” His hand reaches out and grabs your hip, pulling you into bed with him. His stubble scrapes against your skin as he rolls you onto your back and kisses you. His hands run along your body, slipping under your shirt to caress your soft skin. You melt into his touch, fingers tangling in his messy curls, and you sigh against his lips.
He trails kisses along your jaw down to your neck, his tongue tracing lazy patterns on your skin. You can’t resist him, arching into him, your legs wrapping around his hips to pull him closer. His broad body covers you like a warm blanket.
His hand slides lower, hooking into the waistband of your pants. Just as he starts to tug them down, you very reluctantly break the kiss.
“Hold up,” you pant, struggling to catch your breath. “Ugh, the show…”
He groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “I knooow,” he grumbles.
You laugh softly, soothingly running your fingers through his hair. “Want to help me tonight?”
He lifts his head, an eager and mischievous glint in his eyes. “I do.”
“You want to pick what I wear?”
Without a word, he rolls off you and strides over to the dresser, rifling through your collection of lingerie. After a moment of deliberation with his eyes studying two different bodysuits, he puts them away and grabs the same blush pink lingerie you wore the first night he and you slept together.
“Really?” you arch up an eyebrow. “That one?”
“Call me sentimental,” he smirks. Tossing you the soft, silk outfit. “Put it on pretty girl.”
“Sentimental, huh?” You grin as you shed your clothes, Din’s eyes darkening as he follows your every move.
The silk slides over your skin as you remember the first night you stayed with Din - the nerves, his declaration of love, the tenderness of his touch, and the realization that he meant everything to you.
You smooth your hands over the fabric, straightening the straps and admiring how it fits.
“Beautiful,” he whispers.
You heat under his intense gaze. “Come on, we need to set up,” you say, grabbing his hand and leading him to your studio.
—-
You’ve noticed a change in Din since you moved in with him. He’s no longer the solitary man—quiet, reserved, and focused solely on his work. As your love blossomed and you grew closer, he began smiling more readily and laughing more freely, his eyes always sparkling at the sight of you.
He used to be guarded—even a bit gruff—but soon, you saw beneath that exterior, sensing a tender heart. Now, you see that tender heart every day. The way he gently cradles a newborn kid in his strong hands. The way he kneels down on the floor to pet and hug his dogs every morning. The way he always makes your tea the exact way you like it every evening.
He’s actually playful, sometimes chasing you across the house before capturing you and ‘attacking you’ with his mouth, or dipping you for a kiss in the middle of the kitchen.
Sometimes he’ll surprise you while you’re outside hanging laundry, sneaking up and wrapping his arms around your waist before gently tackling you onto the grass. His strong arms enveloping you as he pins you beneath him, his eyes twinkling with love.
“Caught you,” he rumbles before pressing his lips to yours.
You love seeing him like this, happy and carefree. He was once your customer in a dark box, just a curious stranger, and now he’s everything to you.
—-
You check the lighting and adjust the camera tripod while Din settles into his usual spot just out of frame, putting on a pair of headphones, close enough to be heard but not seen.
You take your familiar position on the bed, knees bent to your side, with one hand supporting your weight as you lean back. As you pout your lips and adjust the strap on your top, you nod at Din, signaling that you're good to start.
“Ready?” he asks, his finger hovering over the button to start the stream.
Taking a deep breath, you slip into your online persona. “Ready.”
The red light blinks on and you smile at the camera. “Hi everyone, thanks for joining me tonight…”
As you interact with your audience, you can feel Din’s eyes on you. You steal glances at him between poses, noticing how his breathing quickens whenever you arch your back or run your hands along your thighs.
“What should I do next?” Your question is directed at your viewers and yet you know Din can tell you’re asking him.
He grins, lifting his hand into view, his finger curling in a beckoning motion.
“Yeah? You want me closer?” you purr. The chat explodes with messages of excitement.
You lean forward and crawl slowly towards the camera, risking a glance at Din, sitting in his chair shrouded in darkness, his brown eyes turning almost black when you wink at him.
Your hands trail sensually over the silk fabric of your tank top. “What should I take off first?” you ask temptingly.
“The top,” Din’s voice rumbles from off-camera. “Slowly.”
A shiver flows through your body at Din’s voice, this is the first time he’s ever spoken while you’re performing. You reach for the buttons on your shirt, teasingly undoing them one by one. The silk falling open to reveal your bare skin underneath.
The chat goes wild.
“Like this?” you ask, shrugging the garment off your shoulders and letting it fall to the mattress.
“Perfect,” he growls. You can see him palming himself through his sweatpants out of the corner of your eye.
You bite your lip, fighting every urge inside you to look directly at Din. The camera and your customers demand your attention, but you can only feel his eyes on you.
“What next?” you ask breathily.
Din’s voice husks through the air. “Touch yourself,” he commands in a low tone. “Slowly.”
Your hands slide down your body, tracing delicate patterns across your stomach before dipping lower. The silk of your shorts feels smooth against your hand as you tease and rub yourself through the fabric.
“Feels so good, when your hands are all over me,” you moan into the camera. “Feel how wet you make me? I’m so fucking soaked for you baby.”
Din grunts from the darkness as you arch your back and press your breasts together.
“Should I take these off?” you ask, pushing down the waistband of your shorts.
The chat dings with responses, but you wait for Din’s command.
“Yes,” breathes out from his lips.
You slide the shorts down inch by inch and toss them playfully towards Din’s direction before spreading your legs wide, your hand slipping between them, stroking yourself slowly. You moan as you work your fingers in small circles, your hips rocking against your hand.
You hear Din’s breathing grow heavier.
“Mm, it feels so good,” you purr. “But chat… do you think I should have some help?”
He leans forward, his brows rising in surprise. You’ve never asked Din to join in your cam sessions before, but seeing him in the background, watching you every time has become too much. You want him to be a part of it now.
Your audience sends a wave of thumbs ups and enthusiastic messages.
“Baby,” you say breathlessly, “come here.”
He hesitates for a moment before standing up and moving to the side of the bed, just out of frame. His brown eyes are wide with surprise and desire as he reaches his hand out towards you. The chat goes wild as his hand comes into view on camera, trailing up your leg.
His touch is warm and reverent as his fingertips finally brush against your wet folds. “That’s it, touch me,” you moan, relishing in the feel of Din as your customers watch.
His fingers explore you slowly, spreading your wetness and tracing lazy, soft circles around your clit. You lock eyes with him as he slips a finger inside you, momentarily forgetting about the hundreds of viewers on the monitor.
Din nods his head towards the screen, reminding you that you’re at work. You look back at the camera, as Din slowly fucks you with his thick finger.
“Fuck, you feel so good inside me,” you pant for your viewers, losing yourself in Din’s touch. His thumb finds your clit, brushing softly against it. “Just like that.”
He smirks as he watches you unravel beneath his touch. Your back arching as you push your breasts together and tug at your nipples.
“More,” you gasp between moans, your body beginning to tremble as the chat goes crazy watching you lose yourself under Din’s touch.
He responds immediately, adding another finger and stretching you. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he says, his voice thick with lust.
Your hips lift to meet his hand, seeking more pressure, grinding your pussy against his palm. "Talk to me baby, they want to hear you talk to me,” you beg.
His brows furrow in thought, his thumb brushing circles against your clit while his fingers fuck you deeper. “Let it go baby. You’re gorgeous, you like my fingers?”
“Yes, god yes,” you moan as his hand worships your cunt.
“Cum for me baby, show them how I can make you cum.”
“Oh god,” you cry out, your head falling back onto the mattress as you surrender to his touch, breathing hard as your hips cant against him. “I want you,” you beg, leaving the thoughts of your hundreds of viewers behind.
“I’ll give you what you want soon enough,” he promises. “Keep going for them.”
The pressure is building within you, your heart racing and when Din angles his fingers up, that familiar heat pools in your core, every nerve ending dancing and tingling across you.
“Gonna—” you whimper.
“Just a little longer,” he urges, his voice low. “I want them to see how much I love making you feel this way.”
You nod, breathless, your body set alight. You can hear the distant sound of notifications and gifts pinging from the chat, but all you can focus on is Din and his thick fingers.
"I'm so close," you gasp as his thumb presses firmly against your clit. He quickens his pace, fingers moving faster and deeper until your body can't take it anymore.
“Good girl,” he praises. “Cum. Cum for them.”
Din pilots you closer to your peak. Your thighs quaking around his hand, your cunt clenching his fingers as your body begins its ascent towards bliss.
“Oh god,” you moan.
“Cum for me baby,” he growls. “Let go.”
The world explodes around you, stars floating through your eyes as your entire body convulses. Your breath hitching, the world narrowing to just you and Din as you orgasm, gone are your viewers, gone are the dings from the speakers.
“That’s it baby,” he coos. “Look at how fucking beautiful you are. You’re so fucking gorgeous when you cum.”
Your body trembles in the aftershocks as he brings his soaked fingers to his lips, eagerly tasting you. Only you can see how his eyes close in pleasure as he licks his fingers clean.
“You did so good for me—and them,” he praises, his own breathing ragged as he pulls down his sweatpants.
"Thanks for tuning in chat, now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go get fucked by my helper,” you say winking before clicking the DISCONNECT button.
Din pounces on you, pinning you to the bed with his muscular body. "Be careful!" you yell. “The equipment!”
Din grins widely as he kisses you. “Don’t worry about the equipment, I’ll set it back up later,” he growls against your lips. “Right now, I’m going to take care of you.”
With one smooth motion, he flips you over onto your stomach. You gasp in surprise as his strong hands grip your hips, pulling you up onto your hands and knees.
He kneels behind you, his hardness pressing against the cleft of your ass. You moan and push back against him, wanting to feel more of him. He chuckles at your eagerness and gives your ass a playful smack that makes you yelp.
“Guess you liked helping me?” you breathily ask.
“I did,” he runs his hand down your spine. “You want my help again?”
“Always,” you breathe, arching your back to present yourself to him.
He groans at the sight of your glistening pussy, swollen with desire for only him. He leans down, placing a tender kiss at the base of your spine. “Look at you, all ready for me, pretty girl.”
His strong thighs brush against yours as he lines himself up with your aching cunt. The broad head of his cock teases your folds as he coats himself in your slick. You moan and push your hips back as you try to take him in.
His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as your pussy accepts him into your tight heat inch by inch.
He sheathes himself fully inside you, filling and completing you. A low groan rumbles from DIn’s chest as he bottoms out inside you, his hips flush against your ass. “You feel incredible,” he rasps, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.
“I’m yours."
“Yeah? You’re mine? This tight, wet pussy is all for me?” He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he nuzzles into your neck. His stubble scrapes across the sensitive skin. “Mine,” he hisses possessively. “My beautiful girl.”
He fucks into you faster and harder, the bed you use to touch yourself for your customers now creaking and thudding against the wall from Din’s power. You fist your hands in the sheets, holding on as Din pounds into you. You feel another orgasm in your orbit, the stars beginning to show behind your eyes.
“I’m close,” you whimper. “Don’t stop.”
“Never,” Din pants. “I’ll never stop loving you, taking care of you, making you feel this good…”
His words makes your orgasm rocket through you, your pussy clenching rhythmically around Din’s cock as you see a galaxy across your eyelids.
Din keeps thrusting, grunting with exertion as he fucks your soaked cunt, chasing his own release.
“Fill me with your cum,” you urge breathlessly.
“Fuck, I love you. I’m gonna—” his hips stutter and with a deep thrust, he buries himself inside you. A warrior’s moan tears from his throat as his cock pulses, painting your walls with his cum.
Your arms give out, and you collapse onto the bed, Din follows you, lying down next to you. The two of you lay together, panting for air, a tangle of sweaty and sated limbs. Din wraps his arms around you, pulling you close against his heaving chest. You nuzzle into his neck, planting soft kisses along his jaw.
"That was amazing," you murmur. "Having you with me on camera like that. God, it was so hot."
"Mm, it was," he agrees, his voice a low rumble.
"Maybe we should make it a regular thing. I'm sure my viewers would love it."
“As long as I don’t have to show my face, I’d love nothing more. I love watching you, but being able to touch you in front of your audience. I can’t believe I used to be one of your customers.”
You chuckle softly, snuggling closer against him. "And now look at us. I know way more about goats than I ever thought possible and you know way more about live streaming sex shows than you ever thought possible.”
He laughs and tilts his head down to leave a kiss against your forehead. “I never imagined I could be this happy. This farm feels like a real home now, with you here.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
—-
As the warm, late spring weather rolls in, your days on the farm become even busier. The goat kids are growing bigger and braver, exploring more of their surroundings each day. Your nights are spent performing shows for your many viewers, the addition of Din’s hands and voice have driven you watcher views up. You both notice more gifts and chat messages from female viewers, it empowers the two of you to put on even more of a show for them. With a bit of ingenuity and a can of silver spray paint, you’ve come up with the perfect solution for him to not show his face.
Din sits in his office, going over invoices and the calendar as you saunter in wearing one of your favorite dresses.
"Din," you catch his attention.
He turns in his chair, an adoring smile lighting slowly spreads across his lips. "Yeah baby?"
“I thought of a solution for you to not show your face,” you say with a small smile. “Close your eyes.”
He tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, giving you a curious look before he obeys and shuts his eyes.
You quickly open the closet and pull out the surprise, placing it in his hands.
“Okay, open now.”
He opens his eyes to find a silver helmet in his hands.
“So, that one dude you like from that space movie? I ordered one of his helmets…”
He admires it, turning it in his hand.
“The bounty hunter “ he muses quietly. "My favorite."
“I was worried about copyright soooo I painted it silver instead. But this way… you can be on camera with me without anyone seeing your face.”
His dark brown eyes look up at you, a wicked smile spreading across his lips.
“Put it on Din.”
His handsome face is slowly covered by the silver helmet.
“It even modulates your voice a bit…”
Din sits clad in his black sweat pants and black t shirt now with the silver helmet atop his head, making him look even larger and more intimidating. His shoulders sit higher, giving off an aura of power and dominance.
“How’s it feel?” you ask, staring at your bounty hunter disguised boyfriend.
“Good, just fine” his voice comes out different from the speaker. A little more tinny, crinkling with feedback—just like how you first heard him through your computer speakers. You’re ridiculously turned on by it.
“You look… good," you admire. “Really good baby.”
His posture shifts as he leans back, resembling a king with the helmet on… like it was made for him.
"Then, come show me how good I look, pretty girl."
You saunter over and kneel down in front of him, placing your hands on his knees slowly sliding them up his strong thighs as you look up at the expressionless helmet. Your heart races, imagining his eyes watching you behind the visor.
“Is this what you want?” you ask, fingertips grazing the growing bulge in his sweatpants.
“You know exactly what I want,” Din’s modulated voice responds, sending goosebumps across your skin.
You lean forward, nuzzling your face and placing a kiss against the softness of his inner thigh. Your hands move to the waistband of his pants. “May I?,” you ask, tugging gently. He lifts his hips, helping you slide them down.
His cock springs free. Your hands wrap around the base before you give it a firm stroke as you look up at the helmet.
“I love how you look in this,” you muse, before leaning into give the tip of it a kiss. “My bounty hunter.”
The sound of Din’s breath hitching is distorted through the helmet’s speaker. Slowly, you take him into your mouth, savoring the familiar taste of him on your tongue.
You hum around his cock at his praise, taking him deeper into your mouth. You know exactly how he looks under the helmet now. No longer your black square mystery. You can picture his eyes squeezed shut, his bottom lip captured in his teeth, the middle of his eyebrows creased in pleasure.
“Fuck,” he grunts. The modulator gives his voice an extra edge, an extra growl.
Your tongue swirls around his sensitive head already leaking for you, imparting the bitter, salty taste of him against your lips.
“Look at me,” he softly commands.
Your gaze lifts to meet the dark visor of the helmet, imagining the deep brown eyes behind it.
“That’s my pretty girl,” you can hear the smile in his voice.
Your cheeks hollow as you suck him harder, his hips softly thrusting into your mouth.
“So good,” his voice crackles through the speaker. “Always so good to me.”
You take him deeper, choking on the length of him as you relax your throat. His breathing grows heavier, punctuated by grunts of pleasure and your name.
“Hold on, hold on,” Din says suddenly, gently pulling you off him. “Come here baby.”
He helps you rise to your feet, before pulling you onto his lap, your chest meets his. His strong arms wrap around you.
You straddle his lap, the heft of his hard cock presses against you through the thin fabric of your panties. His hands roam across your body, caressing you with reverence and adoration. The cool metal of his helmet brushes against your cheek as he leans in close to you.
“I want to feel you,” Din’s modulated voice rumbles through you.
You nod, lifting your hips as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down in a swift motion and tossing them aside.
A gasp leaves your lips as you sink down on him. You begin to move on him, rolling your hips in steady waves. Your hands grab his broad shoulders, relishing in the warmth of his body.
His voice comes low and husky through the helmet. “Take what you want pretty girl.”
“You feel so good,” you moan. “So big inside me. Just perfect baby.”
Din’s hips thrust up to meet you, his cock hitting deeper inside you.
“Din,” you moan, resting your forehead against the cool metal of his helmet. The rapid beat of his heart thuds against your hands when you place them on his chest. Pulling back, you look into the helmet, unable to see his face, but knowing the exact intense look of concentration he always has when he’s close.
He slides his hand between your bodies, and finds your clit, swirling it in sweet circles against it. A gasp escapes your lips and you smile at the pleasure coursing through you. Your hips instinctively buck against his hand, craving more of him. The pressure builds as his thick cock and skilled finger make you move more frantic. Your hands move up his neck to grip the base of his helmet.
“I…want to kiss you,” you whimper as you lift the helmet, exposing his handsome face.
The sweat across his dewy skin makes it glow even more golden. His plush lips are slightly parted as he looks at you with his big brown eyes. Leaning in to kiss him, the helmet slips from your hand and lands on the floor with a thud.
God, you’ve missed seeing him. Your fingers tangle into the soft, dark curls of his hair as you lean forward. “I love you,” you breathe out against his chin, kissing your way down to his neck, licking the slight salt of his sweat and tasting him.
Din's thumb increases its pressure on your clit as he thrusts up harder into you. "I love you, so much," he pants, his voice rumbling against you with desire and adoration.
Your core tightens, the familiar tingle that only Din can give you washes over your body. You trail your tongue up to his mouth and kiss him hungrily.
"Din," you gasp, breaking the kiss as your orgasm lights through your body. Shuddering in his arms, clenching around his thick cock. You lean back, letting him fuck into your slickness as your muscles grow loose.
With a guttural groan, he thrusts his hips against you, his movements stuttering as he follows you over the edge. His thick cock pulsing inside of your walls as he cums. You feel his warm breath on your neck as he buries his face in the crook of it.
For a moment, you both stay still, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms and trying to catching your breath. Din's hand runs soothingly up and down your back as you come down from your high.
"You're incredible," he murmurs, voice thick with reverence and awe. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."
"I'm the lucky one," you whisper back, reaching up to cup his jaw. "You've given me everything I never knew I needed.”
“Maybe I should wear the helmet—for your next show?” he asks, his eyebrow tilting up.
“I think you should,” you smile, guiding his face down to yours, capturing his lips in a slow, deep kiss. “I’ll let the fans know to expect something different.”
—-
As the weeks pass, you notice Din spending more evenings out in the old barn on the edge of the property. He always kisses you sweetly before heading out, promising he won't be long. But the hours stretch on, and on some nights, he’s out there long past bedtime.
Curiosity gnaws at you, but you respect his wishes to let his trips to the barn remain a mystery.
One night, as you’re sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of tea and splitting corn bread with Grogu, Din returns through the back door with Boba happily trotting behind him.
“Welcome home,” you wink, standing to pour him a cup of tea.
“Mm,” he hums happily.
“Am I ever going to find out what you’re doing out there?”
“You’ll see soon enough, pretty girl,” he assures with a dimple deepening grin.
He steps behind you wrapping his arms around your waist as you pour him a cup. He nuzzles into your neck peppering your skin with soft kisses.
“Be careful,” you order, “the tea is hot.”
“Mm,” he tugs on your shoulder, turning you to face him. “I no longer want the tea.”
He grabs your ass, lifting you up into his hold. Your surprised yelp echoes through the room as you quickly wrap your legs around his waist for support.
“Din! What are you doing?” you giggle breathlessly.
He strides to the kitchen island, carrying you in his arms like a prized bounty and places you atop the cool butcher block.
“I want a taste of you,” he grins roguishly. His large hands skim up your thighs, bunching up the fabric of your dress.
“Oh god,” you roll your eyes. “You’re ridic—”
Your breath hitches as his hand reaches the apex of your thighs.
“No panties, huh? Were you waiting for me, pretty girl?” he asks, his finger tracing lightly along your bare skin, finding you already wet for him.
“Always,” you breathe.
He sinks to his knees before you, spreading your thighs wide and hooking your legs over his broad shoulders. His stubble scratches against your inner thighs as he nuzzles closer to your core. The cool wood and his warm touch sends a shiver through your body.
You gasp at the first touch of his tongue against your sensitive clit. He works his way around it with slow, deliberate licks and kisses, gently sucking and pulsing his tongue.
You moan loudly, tangling your fingers into his dark hair. He hums with appreciation against your skin as you pull the soft waves, urging him on. He laps at your arousal, drinking down the wetness you spill for him.
You press yourself harder against his eager mouth, he devours you, his thick tongue delving in and out of your eager cunt.
“Fuck,” you whimper. “Oh my god.”
Your muscles begin to tense, your thighs begin to quake. Din’s tongue works tirelessly again your cunt.
“Close,” you gasp, your hips rolling against his face.
He groans as his tongue journeys up to your clit before flicking it rapidly against you. Two of his fingers slide into you, the stretch of them and the slow drag in which he pulls them in and out of you transports your orgasm higher. The familiar galaxy of stars Din always brings you twinkle behind your eyelids as you pulse against his fingers and tongue.
You fall apart atop the cool wood, with Din’s hot mouth against you working you through your orgasm, lapping up every drop you give him.
Your fingers comb through his soft hair, massaging his scalp with affection as he places soft kisses along your thighs.
“My tea’s probably cold by now.” he says, rising from between your legs and giving you a kiss. “Guess we should just take this to bed, huh?”
You chuckle breathlessly. “It’ll be a hell of a lot softer on my back than the countertop I can vegetables on.”
A wide smile spreads across his face as he lifts you up into his arms and carries you upstairs.
—-
“Ready for this?” You ask, holding the helmet out to him.
“I am,” he nods.
“I love you.”
He leans in, giving you a kiss before raising the helmet up to his head. “I love you too.”
Din sits on the chair, clad in his new helmet and his black sweatpants, his muscular, golden chest on full display for you, and soon, your viewers.
You hit the link to your show’s room. Your mouth drops at the amount of viewers waiting.
“Holy shit,” you gasp. “We have over 2,000 viewers.”
A rumbling hmph leaves the helmet.
“It’s just you and me,” you remind him.
“Hit connect baby,” he says, sitting up straighter and folding his arms across his chest.
You do as he says and hit connect. Hiding your nervousness and shock behind a sultry smile.
“Hi everyone,” you purr. “I see a lot of new faces here tonight. I guess word got around about my new costar.”
You sway your hips slowly and teasingly, the messages of your viewers illuminating the contours of your body as you let the anticipation build. Din watches intently, his helmeted head tilted slightly.
“Tonight,” you say, before glancing back to Din, “you’re going to watch me fuck my boyfriend.”
The chat explodes, gifts and tips fill the sidebar. Turns out, there is a market for this.
You turn away, stepping closer to Din, each movement slow and sensual as you dance across the room. You can see his breath hitch behind the visor as he takes in every inch of your body and each roll of your hips.
His face is totally concealed by his helmet, and yet you feel his eyes stalking you as you dance for him and your viewers.
Bending over, you plant your hands atop his thick thighs, gripping them and staring into the visor as you give him a wink and mouth “I love you.” His body tenses as he keeps his arms folded across his chest.
You turn your back to him, giving him a full view of your ass barely covered in the silver fabric of the thong he picked out specifically for tonight. You begin to move in rhythm with the music softly playing in the background, gliding your hands along the soft skin of your thighs. You turn slightly to look over your shoulder at him as your hands travel up to your silver bra unclasping it and baring your chest to the camera.
The speaker on the headset amplifies his breathing, reminding you of the first night you talked to him. Deep, steady breaths, sometimes a small grunt, maybe a light whimper.
You dance along to the song, dipping low before popping up with a twist of your hips, your hands charting a path across your skin, pinching and pulling your nipples before dipping down to the shiny straps of your thong. The snap of the fabric against your hip stings when you give it a playful tug then let it go.
"I’m soaked for you,” you moan, running your hand across the wet seam of your thong.
Turning to face him, your lips curl into a teasing smirk at the sight of him. The silver helmet may conceal his face, but his body's response to your dance is evident. His chest rises and falls in sync with his deep breaths, his arms now uncrossed and resting on his thighs as his hands grip tightly.
Slowly, you slink over to him and straddle his lap., reveling in the power you holder over him with your movements. Your hands land on his broad shoulders as you grind against the hardness straining against his black sweatpants.
“You like what you see, baby?” you purr, loud enough for the mic to pick up.
“Always,” his modulated voice rumbles.
You rock your hips, rubbing yourself against his bulge. Soft gasps and moans spill from your lips, your head falling back in pleasure.
“Do you want me to keep dancing for you?” you ask, swirling your hips.
“Yes,” he hisses.
“No touching,” you kiss the cool metal of his helmet. “Okay?”
The helmet tilts when he nods an affirmative.
Sliding off Din's lap, your fingers run along his chest as you rise. With a sultry smirk, you turn and sway your hips as you walk a few steps away from him. The beat of the music pulses through the room as you begin to dance.
Your hands glide over your body, fingers trailing across your skin as you arch your back and roll your hips.
Slowly, you turn to face him, his helmet is tilted as he watches intently.
When you reach him, you place your hands on his wide shoulders and lean in close. "Eyes on me, bounty hunter,” you whisper, your breath fans across the cool metal of his helmet.
Straddling his lap once more, you begin to grind against him in rhythm with the music. Your hips roll and swivel, creating delicious friction between you. Din's hands clench and unclench at his sides, fighting against the urge to touch you.
“Remember," you purr, "no touching."
A groan crackles through the helmet's speaker. You grin, knowing exactly how much he wants to touch you.
Rolling your body on top of him, your breasts graze against his chest before you lean back, your fingers tracing the curve of your breasts and down your stomach to the waistband of your thong.
Din's breathing grows heavier, the sound crackling through the helmet's speaker.
You rise off of him and turn to face the camera, your fingers hooking into the waistband of your thong, teasing at the thin silver fabric. You lock eyes with the camera as you slowly peel the garment down, revealing your soaked cunt to your viewers.
Facing Din again, you lower yourself to all fours and crawl to him. Your hands gliding up his thighs as you rise, nuzzling your face against the tent of his pants before pressing your body against his. You can feel the heat radiating off him and the tension in his muscles as he fights not to touch you.
Turning around, you lower yourself onto his lap, your back to his chest. Your ass grinds against his hardness, feeling it strain against his sweatpants.
You’re aching and wet for him, each light whimper from his headset pools even more wetness between your legs.
“Go ahead and touch me baby,” you moan.
Din's hands immediately grasp your hips, pulling you firmly against him. His hands roam your body, one sliding up to cup your breast while the other dips between your thighs. You gasp as his fingers find your clit, circling it slowly.
“Feel how wet I am for you baby?” you moan.
A muffled groan escapes the helmet's speaker, Din’s fingers exploring your slick.
You roll your hips against his hand seeking more of his touch.
“You want me to fuck him, chat?”
A splurge of thumbs ups and resounding yeses fill your screen.
You rise off Din's lap and turn to face him, hands gliding down his muscular chest to the waistband of his sweatpants. Slowly, teasingly, you tug them down, freeing his hard cock, his tip thick and glistening with precum. There’s something about sharing Din’s gorgeous cock with thousands of your viewers. One of the first glimpses you ever got of him was his golden toned cock, and now, here in the home you share, you’re sharing it with the world.
"Look how hard you make him, chat," you purr, wrapping your hand around his length and giving it a slow stroke. Din's hips twitch at your touch, a hiss of breath crackling through the helmet's speaker. You smile at him, proud of his bravery and enthusiasm for your job.
You straddle his lap, the tip of his cock nudging against your soaked entrance.
Bracing your hands on his broad shoulders, you take all of him in when you settle on his cock. His hands slide around to grip your ass, as you begin to move on top of him.
The stinging stretch of him inside you feels so familiar, and yet everything is different now. Now, thousands of people are watching you take his cock as he stays concealed behind the shiny, silver mask.
You grin down at Din’s exposed chest under the helmet before leaning down and taking his nipple into your mouth, sucking on it hard. If you can’t kiss his lips, you’ll kiss his body.
Din’s hips jerk forward, his cock hitting deeper against your tightness.
You lick your way up his body and kiss the metal of his helmet. "This isn't fair," you breathe out against it, "you look so fucking hot."
Din growls into the speaker, his voice modulated and deep as his hands slide up your sides possessively.
“Face them, show them how you take my cock.”
You moan loudly, at his words, quickly turning in his hold and sinking back down on him, taking all of his thick cock.
Your back presses against his broad chest, his hands wrapping around to cup your breasts and pinch your nipples.
"Ride me just like that, pretty girl," he rumbles. "Take what you need."
Din’s hands roam over your body, strong and calloused against your soft skin. His fingers find your clit, rubbing and flicking it just the way he knows you love it.
Din growls again, his hips snapping up to meet yours with force. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you as you reach behind him and grip onto his thick thighs for support as you ride him.
You can see the comments flooding in on your screen, filled with praises.
"I'm close baby, so close," you whimper, arching your back against his broad chest. The cool metal of his helmet presses against your shoulder.
"Cum for me," Din commands. The rumble from his speaker transports you right back to the nights you used to spend together, thousands of miles away from each other. Now, you’re here in the home you both share, taking his cock for your audience.
Everything sends you over the edge. You want to shout Din’s name, but you also wish to respect his anonymity... so you decide on a compromise.
“Mando!” you scream as your orgasm bursts through you. His breathing grows more rapid as your walls clench around his thick cock. Your head thuds against the metal of his helmet, your eyes squeezing tight, your lip capturing between your teeth as you you cum for Din—and your audience.
He lets out a groan that crackles through the speakers as he spills himself deep inside you. You collapse back against him, your bodies slick with sweat and chests heaving.
For a moment, you forget about the camera, the viewers, the chat still going wild as you listen to the cadence of Din’s breathing through the helmet’s speakers.
Slowly, still quivering in the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, you rise up from Din's lap. His softening cock slips out of you as you stand on wobbly legs. Turning to face the camera, you give your viewers a sultry smile.
"Look what he did to me," you purr, reaching down to spread yourself open with two fingers. Din's cum begins to drip out of your well-fucked pussy, glistening on your inner thighs. You trail a finger through the slick mess, bringing it to your lips to taste the mixture of you and Din.
The chat explodes with comments and tips, everyone going wild at the sight before them. You can’t look away from the image of Din on the monitor, sitting back in the chair, his broad chest heaving as he catches his breath. He’s naked, his cock laying heavily between his legs, glistening with a mixture of your collective orgasms.
"Mmm, he always fills me up so good," you moan appreciatively, scooping up more of the creamy fluid leaking out of you. You slip your fingers into your mouth, making a show of licking them clean and savoring the taste of Din's release.
Behind you, Din stands. You watch in the monitor as he stalks forward.
The chat window is full of flames, hearts, and messages. Encouragement for the two of you flowing in by your viewers. You smile at the camera as Din comes up behind you, pulling you close against his body and wrapping his arms around your waist.
“Hope you enjoyed everybody! We’ll see you next week.” The silver of Din’s helmet glints in the light when he nods as you shut down the show.
“Holy fuck!” you scream when you see the money from tonight’s show in your account, more than you’ve ever dreamed of earning. You turn around in his hold, lifting the helmet up and giving him a kiss. “Din, the audience loves you.”
—-
The wooden bench with its chipping paint and indentations from years of use overlooking the little pond the ducks gather in is your favorite spot on this earth. Better than the clubhouse in the woods behind your childhood home that you used to call yours as a curious child, better than the sanctuary of a townhome you used to call yours with all of your belongings, better than the bedroom you now share with your boyfriend who you love with all of your heart.
The sun has long gone down, the little lantern hanging on the wooden post swings in the night breeze as the moon sits high and full in the sky.
A warm jacket is placed around your shoulders. It smells of Din.
“Hi,” you turn and smile at him.
He gives you a shy smile and joins you on the bench, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer.
You breathe in the familiar smell of him along with the wet dirt and the dew left on the grass. It smells of home.
He sighs, his fingers against your shoulder tap nervously.
“You alright?” you ask.
He looks at you, deep brown eyes meeting yours and nods with a soft smile.
“I still can’t believe you’re here with me sometimes.”
“I know, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
He hums in agreement.
“I think we were destined to be together, like it was somehow written in the stars,” he says, his voice deep and introspective as he gazes up at the twinkling stars above. “I used to dream of being in space and looking down on earth, like I never belonged down here. But now, with you, I feel like… I belong.”
You lean your head against his shoulder and look up to the dark sky painted with stars.
“I couldn’t agree more,” you smile, tracing a constellation with your finger. “These can be our stars.”
Din’s hand gently covers yours, his thick fingers lingers on your ring finger.
“I like those,” he says with a nervous breath. “They’re ours now.”
He pulls away, turning to look you in your eyes, a shy smile deepening his dimple. “Would you stay here with me forever as… my wife?”
Your eyes widen in surprise and tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” you breathlessly say.
Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart races as he reaches into his jacket, pulling out a beautiful golden ring with delicate stars etched onto it.
“This is what I’ve been working on in the barn all those nights. I made it myself.”
Tears fall down your face as Din takes your left hand and slides the ring on your finger. It fits perfectly, as if it was meant to be there all along.
You stare at the golden band, captivated by how beautiful it looks on your finger. This is where you are meant to be, with him.
“I love you,” you whisper, your voice full of emotion.
“I love you too,” Din replies. “We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all.”
—-
Fifteen Years Later...
Two quiet giggles awaken you from your sleep.
"It's Christmas! Can we go downstairs?" Bo asks excitedly, bouncing on her feet, her face lit with an excited smile. "I think I heard Santa last night!"
“No you didn’t,” Greef responds, rolling his eyes. “The chimney’s on the other side of the house.”
“Greef, ” Din sternly commands as he rises out of bed. “Be nice.”
“Sorry dad,” Greef apologizes.
You smile sleepily at your children's excitement, stretching as you climb out of bed.
“Come on!” Bo yells as she runs out the door.
"Alright, alright, we're coming," you yawn, quickly pulling on your robe and slippers.
Din wraps his arm around your waist as you make your way downstairs, following the pitter-patter of little feet racing ahead of you.
It was around this time ten years ago that Din sat you down and told you about Greef and Bo, the twin foundlings in need of a family. As a former foundling himself, Din couldn't bear the thought of the twins not having a safe and nurturing home. With tears in your eyes and love in your heart, you both made the decision to become the parents of Greef and Bo. The call to Cobb was made, and what used to be your livestream studio, turned into a nursery.
That first Christmas as a family of four, Din had planted Christmas trees on your farm. Now, one of those trees is sitting proudly in the corner of your living room, covered in twinkling lights and handmade ornaments.
"Look! Santa came!" Bo squeals, pointing at the cookie crumbs.
"Can we open presents now? Please?" Greef asks, barely containing his excitement.
“Hold on, let me get the coffee going,” Din chuckles, heading to the kitchen to turn the coffee maker on.
The kids vibrate with wonderment, taking in all of the brightly wrapped presents underneath the tree.
“Okay, have at them,” Din says, settling onto the couch next to you and pulling you close.
The kids don’t hesitate, diving for the presents. Bo chooses a soft, squishy package while Greef grabs a rectangular box, tearing into the wrapping paper.
"A new stuffed animal!" Bo exclaims, hugging a plush bear to her chest. "I'm gonna name her Chewie."
"Awesome, the new flying game I wanted!" Greef grins, examining the box. “Can we play it later, Dad?”
“We can,” Din nods with a warm smile. "I'm a pretty good pilot if I do say so myself."
You spend the next hour watching the kids open gift after gift, their faces lighting up with each reveal. There are new books, art supplies, clothes, and toys scattered across the floor. Fifteen minutes has turned into fifteen years. A black box of mystery has turned into a house full of love.
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—-
A/N: Thank you *SO* much for reading. I loved writing Din and his cam girl, and I hope you love the glimpse of their future life together.
#din djarin#pedro pascal#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin fanfic#din djarin smut#din djarin x reader#the mandalorian#mandalorian fic#mandalorian smut#mandalorian au#mando x reader#mandalorian fanfic#din djarin x you#din djarin x female reader#mando smut#mandalorian x you#mando#star wars the mandalorian
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before we broke (1) II p.bueckers x reader
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you thought that everything with paige had been left behind, you never wanted to open that chapter of your life again. turns out life has other plans for you. part two
before we broke II p.bueckers x reader 5.4k
"you've been avoiding this conversation long enough, darling." you sigh at the sharpness of your mum's voice as she tries to push you into talking. "i'm your mother. i can read you better than you think." she teases, thanking the waiter as she offers her a glass of water.
"mum it's nothing. it's just-." you stop yourself again because the truth sounds more like an excuse than you were thinking it would. your mum gives you a look, one that says there's no backing away from this as much as you try to close it down.
"it's just not as simple as you think it is." you don't look up from your coffee, absently tapping the mug with your fingers. you hear her sigh absently at your words, her hand wrapping around your wrist. "nothing ever is." she replies gently, her voice comforting but you know her well enough to know she's trying to coax you into making a decision. "but you can't keep pretending like it's not there."
you bite your lip, fighting the urge to spill everything, the weight you were carrying pressing against your chest. it's hard to say it aloud, even harder when you know your mum will see through every word, because she knows you.
"i don't want to disappoint you," you mutter under your breath, barely loud enough for her to hear. but somehow she does. "darling, you couldn't disappoint me if you tried," she says, her hand falling to gently clasp with yours. "i just want to help you, but you have to let me in first."
"i know you're not excited but you should be, darling." your mum says, like she’s expecting you to open up and tell her everything your feeling. she leans across the table, picking up the brochure for your new college. "uconn, honey. it’s a huge opportunity for you. you'll be surrounded by people just as passionate as you, and you’ll be closer to some of the best professors in the country."
"i know, mum." you've heard all this before, the list of reasons why a transfer would be the best option for you right now, but none of it could make it any easier to leave and go to the place that makes your insides crumble.
"it's far from home. but you're going to take care of yourself and not burn yourself out like last time. right, honey?" you chuckle at the concern in your mum's voice that never failed to make you laugh at how the woman could be so overbearing over her last child.
"you're telling me this isn't what you wanted? we talked about this months ago, if your college didn't offer the practical we would set up a transfer for you, honey."
you don’t want to admit that there’s something more to this than just the transfer. it’s not about the college or the course It’s the fact that uconn is still uconn and it’s been five years. five years since you told yourself you were done with it.
you could maybe just convince yourself that there was still slimmest chance of you not making contact with the blonde at all, perhaps you would run your luck round and she would be too busy being the face of women's basketball to wander around the campus.
but you knew eventually the two of you would run into each other and the dread of seeing her face again made your stomach drop more than you'd care to admit. you didn't want to speak to her after so many years apart, the fact that you two had lost each other was for the better and a testament to how hard you'd tried to cut her out of your life.
"mum i really don't want to talk about it." she leans in a little closer to you, the corners of her mouth lifting. “oh, come on. you’re acting like this transfer is a bigger deal than it is. something’s got you all wound up. is it the move? or is it…”
she trails off, and you know exactly where she’s going with this. your stomach tightens and you press your lips together, fighting the urge to snap. “mum, please don’t.”
her voice softens, but there's still an edge and she knows exactly how to crack your resolve. “is it paige? sweetheart, i haven’t heard you mention her in years. you used to be inseparable and then things just changed between you.”
you feel the sting of her name in the air, the same one you’ve cried over time and time again. your breath hitches and for a split second your walls seem to falter. but you quickly paint them back into place, determined not to let your mum see how much her name still hurts you.
“mum, please.” you say it more firmly this time, voice low but cutting through away any space left for your mum to keep asking questions you couldn't answer. “i said i don’t want to talk about it. i need to make this choice on my own.”
~
"tiny?"
you heard a familiar voice behind you, your heart skipping a beat because you knew exactly who that voice belonged to. you slowly spun around and there she was. azzi, standing there with a surprised look, the same toothy smile she had all those years ago back in minnesota.
"didn't expect to see me?" she teased, the familiar pull of arms bringing you in, and for a moment, everything felt too familiar, like you'd never left behind the people you once knew like the back of your hand. the force of her hold knocked the air out of your lungs, the girl had clearly grown since the last time you saw her.
“you’re... you’ve changed,” you smiled, a small attempt at pretending you weren’t caught off guard by how different she was, how much everything had changed since the last time you'd seen each other.
she smiled, a flicker of sadness in her eyes as she looked you up and down. "guess so," she said lightly, her voice carrying a tone that told you she wasn't the only one that was hurt from the aftermath of everything. "it’s been a while, huh?"
"you really kept up with your studies didn't you?" azzi raised an eyebrow, clearly referencing to how as a teenager you were the most avid studier and had been insanely gifted in school. "i’m living on campus now, i got signed after i finished my contract at st johns."
"wow, seriously az?" you blinked in surprise at the brunette, trying to mask your shock because you knew a part of you felt guilty for not reaching out to azzi over the years. you hadn’t known. you hadn’t even thought to check in with azzi about where her career had gone, but you were grateful she wasn't as bitter about it as you thought she might.
"yeah, didn’t think i’d ever be here either." she admitted, her body shifting slightly in its place as if she was thinking about something you couldn’t quite decipher. "but life’s funny that way." you nodded back at azzi, thinking about how you also never planned to move so far from home. "yeah, it sure is."
you didn’t want to admit there was more to it. you didn’t want to admit that there was a part of you that had missed azzi, missed the simplicity of what was supposed to be a lifelong friendship, before everything had become complicated. but that part of you was buried deep. it had to be. after everything you couldn’t afford to let it come to the surface.
you told yourself there was no chance of crossing your old path, that the odds were slim. after all, azzi had her life, her career to focus on. basketball was her world, and you were just a road of her path. maybe if you stayed in your lane, kept to yourself bar azzi, there’d be no reason to run into her. no reason to confront the past.
but no matter how much you tried to avoid it, you and azzi both knew the truth. you and the blonde would cross paths eventually. and when it happened, you had no idea how you’d react, but you knew it would hurt. the dread of seeing her again, of having to speak to her after what she did, had settled deep in you, and no matter how hard you tried to push it away, it stayed.
“wait, so why are you here at uconn? i thought you were still back in minnesota?” she said, her voice tinged with confusion that you had been expecting. “what happened?”
you sighed, fiddling with the strap of your bag. “the practical part of my degree wasn’t available back home.” you explained, glancing up at her. “so, i had to transfer to finish it here.” “your degree?” azzi asked, her eyes shifting to the couple books under your arm. “what are you studying, then?”
“i'm doing a major in sociology,” you said, shrugging. “it’s all about understanding societies, human behaviours, and social issues. but it’s just a lot of research and case studies. especially in the final year so i've been told.”
azzi nodded slowly, looking impressed. "sounds pretty intense. i’m doing communications, so it’s a lot of writing and media stuff. i can’t even imagine doing any of that data and theory work."
you chuckled, relieved that the conversation was light. "yeah, it's tough sometimes. trying to make sense and apply it to real-life situations." you frowned as she laughed and rolled her eyes. "that along with basketball i couldn't handle."
"you should come over," azzi suggested as she turned towards the student building. "we can study, grab some food, just hang out. it’ll be fun." you hesitated as she looked at you, the thought of spending time with her again made your stomach twist in an uncomfortable way. "yeah, maybe," you muttered, trying to keep the edge from your voice. "but... i don’t know. i have a lot of stuff to catch up on."
"come on!" azzi pressed, nudging you gently. "we’ll get through the work together. it'll be fine." you knew it was pointless to argue with the girl, and the way she looked at you with the same expression from when she was your best friend, made it harder to say no. "alright, fine. i’ll come by i need to head over there anyway."
azzi had been your best friend for longer than you could remember. it was her with the chunky shoes and bright blue backpack that had taken you under her wing on the first day of school. she always claimed your worried nature had drawn her to you in the first place, it's hard to believe somebody as uptight and focused as you were could be such good friends with such a carefree and friendly person like azzi.
but it worked. azzi had introduced you to all her friends and before you knew you were telling your parents you would be home by 5 for dinner because the lot of you were going to play at your local courts. her friends never minded azzi bringing you, in fact many of them were disappointed whenever azzi would leave you behind because you had homework to do.
the brunette had been your ride or die. so it hurt to lose such an important person in your life. the first few months you had to stop yourself from making contact because you knew it would just make things worse. but you guessed that all roads lead back to each other and well you and azzi luckily had as well.
everything would be fine. nothing would go wrong.
until you walked through the door.
your stomach dropped as finally azzi opened her dorm and you walked inside, a tall blonde leaning on her kitchen counter thankfully in conversation with another girl you didn't recognise.
it gave you a moment to finally take her in.
gone was the heap of blonde hair who used to sit on your bedroom floor whilst you'd untangle it for hours and pretend to massage your fingers after throwing basketballs at your head, who'd laugh with you until you couldn't breathe.
in front of you was still paige though. your paige.
you knew that paige had always been fond of fashion when you were growing up, she'd clearly stuck with this fondness as you looked over her. you'd been the person she would sit up in bed with and talk to for hours about everything and anything.
gone was the tall, willowy teenager that she once was; now she stood taller, her muscles defined even through the thick fabric of her jumper. her arms were more defined, probably credited to the hours you guessed she spent training.
you couldn't help but let your eyes roam over her form as she leant against the counter. there was a new edge to her, her smile although still familiar to you, it lacked the feelings it once brought you.
paige had always been physically stronger than you. she could easily overpower you during your childhood pinning you to the floor with a grin that always told her intentions. you were forever teased by her for your slightly less builted frame, the blonde had won quite the count of 'fights' that she never failed to remind you off.
she had bettered you in strength for all of your life, you never minded though because playing as many sports as paige did was never really quite your thing. you had always preferred to lie on her bed, waiting for her practice to end before she would come home to you again.
of course, over the years, you’d both had your moments. growing up together, it was only natural that you shared quite a few. but the biggest moment of all was realising that your feelings for each other weren’t the kind you had for just any best friend. it was different, ike the way your friends talked about liking boys, except it wasn’t boys. it was paige.
those feelings, as confusing as they were at first, slowly turned into something deeper. without warning, the two of you had become each other's first everything; the first kiss, the first time you truly understood what it meant to have a special someone. but that was a secret, one you shared only between the two of you, one that never seemed to get out because it lived in every moment instead.
you and paige had never let it out to either of your families. you weren't afraid. just comfortable. to comfortable in the feelings of just being each others person, nobody needed to share that with you because it was yours for the keeping.
swallowing the feelings that washed over you, you screamed at your body to move, urging them to move further into azzi's apartment instead of the frozen position you were currently stuck in. a sharp inhale from the blonde forced you to close the distance between the two of you.
azzi's eyes flickered to you, her gaze lingering on you as if she was weighing the situation, wondering who would speak first. she clearly hadn’t expected paige to be here, and paige well, paige clearly hadn’t expected you to walk in either.
the girl paige had been talking to clearly noticed the tension and decided to leave, quickly packing up her things before heading to the door with a confused glace to the brunette beside you.
paige’s eyes met yours and for a split second, time seemed to pause. the years apart washed away. all the things left unsaid and said hung between you and yet, neither of you tried to move. it was as if the weight of everything came crashing down and neither of you knew how to escape it's claws.
paige snuck a glance at you, stopping herself from gasping as her breath got caught in her throat. much like herself, you had also changed over the years apart.
gone was the shorter, smiling kid that she used to force to practice 3's in the garden and was always tucked into a new book, instead replaced by a confident, composed woman. but you looked at her like there was no history between you, paige felt her heart pang as you looked at her so blankly.
paige moved towards you with a smile, but azzi quickly cut her off by bringing her into a hug. you watched as the brunette whispered something in the blonde's ear that she nodded at in response. "hey." you waved softly and paige could feel herself almost cry at how much she had missed your voice.
"hi." the basketballer responded, her tone wary but she maintained a somewhat confident smile, the two of you staring at each other for a moment before you both pulled your eyes away. you both hesitated to what would be the most appropriate greeting, the two of you stumbling towards each other before azzi stepped in.
paige glanced at azzi, leaving just enough space for you to face each other fully. you shifted on your feet, your hands fidgeting by your sides, while paige seemed rooted to the spot, her blue eyes darting across your face like she was trying to memorise every detail.
"so," paige began, her voice cracking slightly as she cleared her throat. "i didn’t expect .. this." she gestured vaguely between the two of you, her nervous energy palpable as she played with the strings of her jumper. "yeah, me neither," you admitted, your lips twitching in what was supposed to be a smile but felt more like a grimace.
it was azzi who finally broke the silence again, stepping back into the conversation with a casual air that felt just a bit forced. "well, it’s been a long day, and i’m starving. how about we eat before the awkwardness actually suffocates us all?"
you chuckled softly at her attempt to lighten the mood, but your smile didn't reach your eyes, they flickered back to paige, who gave you a small smile that didn’t mask how clouded her head was. "good idea," you replied, latching onto azzi’s suggestion like it was a lifeline.
"let me guess, azzi dragged you in here kicking and screaming?" paige teased lightly, a faint smirk tugging at her lips as she leaned back in her chair, her posture relaxed but her eyes still as sharp as ever. "something like that," you replied with a small laugh, glancing over at azzi, who grinned knowingly. "she can be very persuasive when she wants to be."
"so," azzi interjected, leaning back in her chair with an almost smug look, her drink resting loosely in her hand, "this is... cosy." you shot her a warning look, but azzi’s grin only widened as she raised her eyebrows at paige. "you two catching up on old times, huh?"
paige shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable but trying to play it off with a tight-lipped smile. "something like that." she mumbled as she looked down at the floor. "yeah, definitely a lot to catch up on," you muttered under your breath, your fingers nervously tracing the rim of the drink azzi had offered you.
"oh, i’m sure," azzi teased, her tone innocent but her knowing smirk doing nothing to hide the fact she was thoroughly enjoying this. "must be nice to finally see each other after... how many years has it been now?"
"azzi," you warned, your voice low, but she just shrugged it off like always. "what? i’m just making conversation," azzi said with an innocent smile, though the mischievous glint in her eye gave her away. "it’s been a while," paige answered, her voice firm as she finally looked at azzi, her jaw tightening slightly. "but yeah, it’s good to see you."
you felt paige’s gaze shift onto you, the weight of her stare almost too much to handle as your heart thudded in your chest at the familiarity of everything. "good to see you too," you murmured softly, your voice barely audible but enough for both of them to hear you.
as paige fiddled with the bracelet around her wrist, azzi’s eyes zeroed in on it. "wait, is that the bracelet you got after the state finals? the one drew gave you?" paige glanced down at it and nodded with a smile. "yeah, he'd been saving for months before that game."
"that game was insane," azzi said, leaning back in her chair with a grin. "you hit the buzzer beater, and the entire gym exploded. i thought the roof was gonna come down." paige chuckled at the memory as she twisted the bracelet between her fingers. "yeah, that was definitely a moment i’ll never forget."
"i didn’t just hear about it after the fact," you said quietly, your voice cutting through their conversation. paige and azzi both turned to look at you, paige’s brows furrowing. "what do you mean?"
you shifted in your seat, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you. "i was there," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "i was in the stands that night. i saw it happen." paige’s lips parted, a flicker of shock crossing her face. "you were there?"
"a group of my friends had one a few tickets from some trivia competition at our local bar, it was lucky it happend to be a final because i don't think they would've gotten me there otherwise." your cheeks flushed bright red as you tried to explain how you had ended up at her match despite never liking the sport as a kid.
"i wish i'd known you were there." paige admitted, feeling her eyes burn into you as you stiffened in your place. "you were so good, i didn't miss that." you replied, messing about with the band around your wrist as paige and azzi stood before you.
paige chuckled as she crossed her arms. “you? at a basketball game? now that’s something i'd pay to see.” she teased, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “last i checked, you couldn’t stand the sport. something about it being just people running in circles?”
you laughed, the sound nervous but genuine. “yeah, well, i stand by that, it’s still just running in circles. but… that night was different, it wasn’t about the game. it was… you.” you felt your face flush at the obvious pride of the blonde in your voice.
“i must’ve been pretty impressive to get you to sit through four quarters of it.” paige joked, throwing her head back as she laughed. “oh you have no idea. but seriously you were amazing that night, paige. the energy in that gym was unreal. and then you hit that shot, and it was like everything stopped for a second before it just exploded.”
despite that basketball was paige's one true love, the only reason you ever faked interest was to avoid upsetting her or making her feel like you weren’t being supportive of what she wanted to be. so, you let her sit you down time and time again to explain the rules, the fouls, the positions. all so you could cheer her on properly during her games, not that you ever understood anything. still, you never missed a single one.
that didn’t stop her from dragging you into the sport at every opportunity. her favourite was planting you in front of the basket, enlisting azzi's brothers to fire shots your way, laughing every time you flinched from the contact of the ball against the backboard.
you never lasted long before you’d sprint off, throwing your arms up in defeat when the blonde would tease you. but she’d always chase you down, grabbing your wrist and hauling you back, determined for you to make at least one three pointer. she’d promise to let you go afterwards, but you never did shoot that three pointer anyway.
"so i take it your growing love for basketball hasn't really changed then?"
~
paige couldn't help but notice the little changes in you. the way you seemed a bit more steady now, your posture less sunken, your eyes a little less hesitant when meeting hers. you weren’t the same shy girl who used to shrink into the background because that's all you wanted was to be invisible.
there was a maturity that you actually wanted to be noticed now, a relisation that she would have never expected. yet, as she watched you laugh at azzi’s latest comment, something familiar flickered. your laugh was the same, the same sound that the blonde would try her hardest to bring out.
your smile, too, hadn’t changed, the same curve of your lips that made it hard for anyone to stay mad at you, no matter how much you tried to hide it behind a veil of indifference.
you’d grown, that much was clear, but in some ways, you were still the same to her. and despite the time and distance between you, there was a comfort in knowing that the things she had loved about you hadn't changed. and for all the changes, paige realised some things never needed to.
paige could see the shift in you before you even spoke. the subtle way your eyes darted aimlessly away from the conversation, the way your smile faltered, just for a moment, like you were trying to hold yourself together. the room felt suddenly too tight, the noise too loud, the lingering feelings pressing down on you.
it had been fine at first, comfortable even. but now, surrounded by all the familiarity, memories began to flood in, too many and too fast. paige noticed the way your fingers twitched, your breathing slightly uneven. she knew you well enough to recognise the signs you were becoming overwhelmed.
without saying a word, you stood up abruptly, excusing yourself with a tight smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. paige opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it, watching as you made your way to the door.
you didn’t even glance back as you shut the door behind you, the slight smell of weed in the hallway hitting your face like a stone brick. you leaned against the wall, your chest rising and falling as you tried to steady yourself, the noise from inside azzi's apartment muffled by the distance. it was quieter out here. easier for you to breathe.
azzi watched you leave her dorm, she could see the concern in the blonde's eyes, the hesitance to go after you. without missing a beat, azzi leaned in slightly to paige.
“go,” she said softly, but with an air of certainty. paige’s eyes flickered up to meet hers, confusion littered in her features. “what?” paige asked, her voice quiet and unsure what azzi was insinuating.
“she’s not okay. go after her. she’ll need you.” there was no hesitation in azzi’s words, no second-guessing. she knew you well enough to understand that sometimes, a little space was needed, but not too much. paige needed to be there, not just to calm you down, but as someone who would understand you. she always had.
paige hesitated for a second longer, then nodded, a soft sigh escaping her lips. without another word, she pushed herself up and moved towards the door. paige was convinced she was the reason why you'd left in the first place so why would azzi think her coming to check on you would even really help at all?
she took a slow step closer to you. her presence was calming, never demanding, just there. her hand gently brushed against yours, a reassurance that you weren't alone. "hey," she said. her voice steady and confident, like it always had been when you were younger, she had always known exactly how to calm you down. "it's okay. breathe with me."
you glanced at her and for a moment, it felt like nothing had changed. your connection was still there, that understanding and you felt like she could read every thought racing through your mind. she took a slow breath, offering you to copy her and you followed her lead, inhaling until the tightness in your chest loosened and your breathing returned to it's normal pace.
paige gave you a small, encouraging smile, her thumb gently rubbing over the back of your hand, grounding you with the simple, familiar feeling of her skin on yours. "you remember how we used to do that when things got too much? just breathe and focus on me." she told you, reminding you of the countless times you’d done this when you were a teenager.
you closed your eyes for a second, your breath had evened out, and the chaos of thoughts ceased their efforts. you hadn’t realised how much you missed her, how much she always anchored you, until now.
"you’re okay," paige murmured, her voice calming the sea of emotions that had been building their charge over you, her eyes holding yours with that same control that used to be your safe place. "we can figure this out. but right now, just breathe. i'm not going anywhere. i'm staying right here."
paige didn’t rush to fill the silence that had overtaken. instead, she gave you the time you needed, letting you breathe and collect your thoughts. “i know we’ve both been… through a lot. but i think, maybe, we deserve the chance to figure this out. together.”
“thank you,” you whispered as paige tried to keep her reaction minimal, though her insides were screaming for her to try and salvage this. "for... not pushing. for giving me space to figure things out."
paige’s eyes softened as she gave a small nod, her hand briefly squeezing yours before she pulled away. "anytime," she replied quietly, a smile tugging at her lips. "i'm not going anywhere."
"maybe we can start with something simple." paige stumbled over her words, suddenly feeling all the nerves she’d been suppressing rise to the surface. "i was thinking... maybe we could grab a coffee sometime? just the two of us. to catch up properly." the request hung in the air between you both, her gaze full of uncertainty but also hope, because she was bracing herself for your rejection she feared was coming.
"paige..." you started, your voice tight as you took in her nervous energy. you could already tell by the way she’d shifted her stance and the way her eyes searched yours that she was preparing for the worst. you noticed the subtle way she’d distanced herself from you all evening, the way she’d never once leaned into you like she used to, and the space hurt more than you’d thought it would.
her voice cracked slightly, trying to salvage what was the broken parts of your relationship. "please. just give me time with you?" she reached out to you, but as her fingers hovered near yours, you instinctively pulled your hand back, not wanting to give her any false hope of something happening again. she noticed, and her hand dropped to her side in defeat.
"paige, i’m not sure..." you trailed off, the uncertainty in your voice betraying the thoughts circling in your head. she could hear the reluctance, but the way she held herself, so desperately told you all you needed to know.
"we were close once. you were everything to me. i want to know what’s been happening with you. really know. not just surface stuff because we have to." paige’s words felt like a blow to your chest, not because they were harsh, but because they were so painfully true.
paige used to be your everything. she was yours. the only person who understood you in a way no one else ever could. she could read you like a book, inside and out, you could never hide from her even if you tried. you had shared everything with her. she was the person who could mend you when you felt like the world was falling apart, the person who could piece you back together.
she had torn you apart though.
it hadn’t been easy, watching everything slip away after the distance between you two grew. the awkward silence when your family members asked what she had been up to that used to feel so comfortable became unbearable. the times when you would have done anything just to spend a second with her became just a memory you couldn’t quite forget.
you couldn’t look at her then, not with the honesty in her eyes, not with the way she seemed to still see right through you like always. it was the same as before, as if nothing had changed at all, despite everything that had happened in between.
"i’ve missed you. more than i can to admit." the words stumbled out before either of you could stop them, and you felt them hit you like a freight train. crashing into you at full speed as you tried to hold onto the rails. "come on, just one coffee. it’ll be like we’re picking up right where we left off, five years ago. just two people catching up. no big deal, right?"
there was a flicker of hope in her eyes, and despite the walls you’d spent so long building up, the sight of her made your heart ache. she was trying so hard to bridge the gap that seemed impossible, but the sincerity in her words made you want to say yes so badly.
you hesitated at her offer, still battling with yourself to forgive the blonde. "alright. one coffee." you whispered, the mountain of tension between you falling by your sides. but as the words left your lips, you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of mess you were getting yourself into.
~
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Quincy
Since we first became roommates, Quincy's transformation over the years had been quite spectacular. When we had first started college and been randomly assigned together, I had not thought anything of him. Quincy was not special, just a lanky ginger from the next state over. But I soon came face to face with the tale-as-old-as-time book cover expression, as his first impressions have meant little over the years we have spent together. Now in our mid-twenties, it was fair to say that the only part of Quincy that was still that lanky freshman I met was the bright red hair.
Quincy had come in as a socially-awkward bookworm, an accounting major who aspired to join his father’s practice after graduation. He was smart, soft spoken, and lean, which I soon learned was because he had been a decent swimmer in high school. But over every winter and summer break, Quincy came back to campus looking just a little bit different, and eventually acting a bit different too.
It started that second semester of freshman year, when I entered the dorm after a rough baseball practice. The team had been forced to stay nearby over the holidays, so I had not seen Quincy in almost a month. When I walked through the door all sweaty and gross, I had not expected for Quincy to be there.
“Quincy?” I smiled, being friendly. “You’re back already?”
“Yeah, I uh…had a project to finish with Sam, you know the basketball player from down the hall?” Quincy replied, shifting awkwardly a bit. It was strange, but it almost appeared like he had grown an inch in our time apart, but his fidgeting prevented me from truly discerning this difference. “You can ask him, if you don’t believe me...”
Sensing the nervousness, I put one of my best traits to work. “Nah bro, I was just surprised. Glad to see you back though.” It was a strong suit of mine, controlling the room without appearing like it. I was confident and casual, something that made others like and respect me. “I’m gonna be leaving in a bit though, I got a date with Kenzie tonight. We’ll have to catch up later.”
In the hallway on my way out, Sam caught me to say hello. I had not recognized him at first, the coppery color of his hair a stark difference from his once raven black. I assumed it had been a bad dye job as a result of initiation hazing from his teammates. Our conversation was quick, but long enough for me to notice that our eye levels met. I could have sworn he was taller than me.
The second semester flew and by the time we considered sophomore year, Quincy and I agreed to room with each other. The next time I saw him, it appeared he had taken an interest in weightlifting. I applauded him for his efforts, asking how he had packed a good amount of muscle in a short time. He said that Vance, one of my baseball teammates, had been at the same gym as him and the two became fast buddies. I felt bad breaking the unfortunate news that Vance was no longer on the team, stating that he was taking a break for “strength conditioning.” I had not seen him since he tendered his resignation, his fiery hair drawing my attention more than his prepared remarks. Quincy appeared unaffected by my announcement.
Winter break, another summer break, junior year, and senior year all flew by, and Quincy continued to grow. Somehow, he became jacked, like really jacked. He gained bulging biceps and triceps that had taken me twice as long to develop, quads and calves that put mine to shame. He also got more attractive, something that I hated to admit. His abs, which had popped up out of nowhere, had become the talk of the campus, and by our last semester, his face had appeared to be carved by Greek gods. more visible than ever. He had practically become a sensation overnight: not too big and intimidating, but not to shrimpy and unnoticeable. Yet at heart, Quincy was still the same accounting nerd, and I was actually happy for him, until he started stealing my hookups.
In all honesty, I was probably just jealous of his incredible growth. And the fact that he constantly had girls and guys (to my surprise, but I had no problem with it) working his monster-sized cock–the size assumed by the noises from his room. But I kept my cool, and when he asked if I would consider continuing our living situation, I obliged. More time passed, and I watched him become quite the alpha male. At a certain point, it felt like everyone in the city knew Quincy. And strangely unrelated, at a certain point, it felt like everyone who Quincy brought home was a redhead too, or at least the ones I saw leaving the next morning.
“God, he is such a pathetic dick,” Quincy groaned, changing into a more casual fit after having come home from a rough day at work. I was perched on the side of his bed, my muscles still sore from the two hours I had just blown at the gym.
“It wasn’t Marco again, was it?” I asked casually, referencing the twink who had recently been avoiding Quincy’s advances.
“I just don’t get it, what else could he want from me?” Quincy flaunted his body. “Everybody wanted me; I’ve got everything he could want!”
“Bro, he probably knows that you're hot,” I remarked. “If I were you, and Marco was like Marcie or something, I’d just be cool about it, and after a bit act like you're indifferent. Make him miss the attention, and soon he’ll rush out and profess his feelings or whatever. If you hold a stronger resolution, rather than flaunting it, he will do all the work and come to you.”
Quincy considered this for a moment, but then another idea appeared to flick through his head. “Yeah…but, it could also just be easier to…”
In a flash, he grabbed my head and I dazed out in front of him. It felt like something was being absorbed out of me, but I assumed my energy had just been spent. After about a minute, I came back to full consciousness. I realized I had fallen back into Quincy's bed during my dizzy spell.
“Thanks for sharing, man,” Quincy sneered, crawling forward on top of me. “You were right about that whole resolution thing. I feel like I can stay assertive and collected enough to lure Marco in now.”
I tried to question what Quincy had meant by that. Why would such a cool, confident guy like Quincy ever want to take advice on how to be nonchalant from me? After all, I had always been quite the nervous wreck; in fact Quincy had been the one who had helped me get rid of my stutter freshman year. But before I could consider the thought further, Quincy’s hands pulled my jeans down, and then my legs up and over my head. Unable to voice a word or protest, I let him.
“Why don’t you show me how Marco will react after I lure him in?” Quincy smirked. I gulped weakly, his strong resolution overwhelming and obliterating my own.
“Yes, that’s it,” Quincy grinded his hard member against my bottom. “I should’ve done this a long time ago, I always knew you’d look better as a ginger.”
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