#though she is very dramatic about him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nanaslutt · 1 year ago

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gojo and vibrator overstim??? he pleasures u like crazy after u guys go to a party and he sees a lot of guys checking u out, but instead of taking it out on u he decides he just wants to worship u😭😭 and he makes u cum a lot of times dkslmds idk

When your girlfriend is too hot for her own good ft. satoru gojo x reader

this is the longest thing i’ve ever written i absolutely loved this prompt..

contains: fem reader, established relationships, whipped!gojo, jealousy, perv!npc’s, vibrators, sooooo much dirty talk, praise, like a ridiculous amount, body worship, cockwarming, overstimulation, mating press, multiple orgasms, no condoms in sight, breeding kink if u squint, squirting for the first time, domestic af

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

After Gojo finished zipping up your dress and hooking the clips at the top to secure it for you, he slapped your ass, grabbing the fat in his palms, “Goddd, i’m so fucking lucky,” he sighed dramatically.

Sliding his large hands around to the front of your body and cradling your hips, resting his head on your shoulder while he admired your current look.

Makeup applied just right, not a glitter of highlight out of place, hair styled in a way that gave his intruding eyes free roam to admire back of your neck, dress fitted perfectly to your body, accentuating every curve and dip of your perfect stature.

Opting to wear your shorter heels because knowing satoru, you two would be at this “party” for a very long time.

Everyone always wanted to talk to Satoru every time he showed himself in public. It was no suprise, considering his popularity throughout the jujutsu world from his incredible technique and strength; maybe a little from his blunt and childish personality too; and non jujutsu sourcerers we’re quick to swarm him from just his handsome looks alone.

Eyes that lit up any room, a perfectly symmetrical and slim face that looked like it had been hand chiseled from the finest stones, and his snowy white hair to top it all off. Satoru always getting asked the same question from girls and guys alike, flirtation laced in their voice when they spoke, “So, is that your natural hair color??”

His height sure didn’t help in making him any less invisible than he already wasn’t.

You two didn’t attend parties or anything of the sort too frequently though, usually only making an appearance at certain events when you had to.

This time it was a little different. Shoko had insisted on Gojo trying out this new club she started to frequent, rambling about how the ambience was just perfect; of course she didn’t fail to mention the high quality liquor they housed in the process.

Satoru hadn’t been to a club in a minute, since he started going out with you. Not seeing the need to anymore.

He only went to clubs before to let off steam after a particularly hard mission, letting some stranger dry hump him on the dance floor, or drinking some too-sweet non alcoholic drink with shoko at the bar, complaining about his day.

He never took any of the strangers home though, he just needed to get out of his head, letting the lights, shitty blaring music, and sweaty bodies overstimulate his mind for a night.

Then he found you. Perfect, sweet, little you. He found that he much rather would wrap his arms around you in the comfort of his quiet, familiar home, and lay on your breasts while you ran your fingers through his hair.

Nails raking comfortingly over his scalp as the stressors of his day melted from his brain. Why was he even stressed again?

See? This was a hundred times better than the club.

But when shoko was insistent, she was thoroughly insistent.

When you stepped through the thick doors of the establishment, guided by satoru’s comforting palm on your lower back, you couldn’t help but notice this felt a lot more lax than what you were expecting.

Music not overbearing, people mingling with each other, and weirdly seeing a lot of familiar faces in the crowd.

“Satoru, where are we right now? I thought this was a club.” you asked, tilting your head up at him while he led you in the direction of the bar, to get you something to loosen you up; he knew how you got antsy at these things sometimes.

“Ah, I didn’t explain very well did I?” he giggled, “Thisss,” gojo paused to splay his arm out in front of him, “Is where Jujutsu sourcerers come to relax!” that explains why you saw so many familiar faces…

“I think that’s why Shoko loves this place so much, people tend to stay away from her here..” pursing his lips pretending to think, “She can be quite intimidating when you know her..” he finished, shaking his head dramatically like he was trying to forget a scary memory.

“Anyways, how are you feeling sweet thing? wanna get a drink first?” Your handsome boyfriend asked you, hand still resting against your back as he gave you a little smile.

“Yeah I uh-“ looking over Gojo’s shoulder before continuing, “I think that blonde guy is trying to get your attention.” pausing your response to your boyfriend as you tipped your head forward, signaling behind gojo.

He turned his neck, shoulders perking up when his eyes focused on the man, “Yooo! How’s it goin!” Gojo waved his free hand at the man as he chirped cheerfully at him. “Was sent on a mission with him once when i was a third year, some ‘rival school bonding’ activity.” he explained.

“Looks like it worked,” you laughed, bringing your hand down to pat him on his firm behind, “You should go talk to him, it sounds like you haven’t seen him in a while.” Encouraging him, starting to slip out from his hold.

“You sure baby?” he asked, slightly pouting, not wanting you to feel awkward or neglected by yourself. God satoru was so sweet. You laughed at his antics before smiling fondly, reassuring him, “I’ll be okay toru, jus’ gonna go make myself at home on a bar stool.”

Gojo gripped your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he started off for his old acquaintance. Your heels clicked on the ground as you made your way over to the bar in the other direction satoru had gone off in.

You ordered yourself a drink, something sweet, and not too strong, just something to relax your nerves as you were now by yourself in a space you’ve never been before.

Just when you started thinking you should go make small talk with someone there, a tall man walked up to you, noticing the few buttons on his shirt undone. For some reason this made him look less intimidating; you were already walking around like there was a stick up your ass, so seeing someone look a little more laid back eased your nerves a bit.

He introduced himself, giving your figure a quick one over that you missed as you stuck your hand out for the man to shake, introducing yourself politely back.

The two of you got lost in conversation, talking about how harboring your jobs were, the only common subject you thought of to talk about with the stranger.

Gojo had made himself comfortable on the halfmoon sofa adjacent to the bar, conversing with a small crowd now, all catching up and laughing with each other.

After maybe half an hour or so, when the conversation was diverged away from him, he averted his gaze to you, watching you giggle at something the dark haired man said.

He didn’t recognize him, but he did recognize the hungry look he had on his face. The same one gojo had whenever he looked at you.

You looked completely oblivious to the man’s gaze as you continued ranting, the alcohol obviously having some affect on you, looking so relaxed while you talked to him.

Gojo couldnt take his eyes off of the scene in front of him for the life of him. People around gojo’s voices starting to become distorted at he channeled 110% of his focus onto you.

Giving a quick glance around the room and catching two guys staring at your ass. The way you were perched on the stool, body leaned into the counter a bit, making your back arch, poking your backside out in association, made you look incredibly seductive.

One of the men elbowed the other in the ribs, making him look at the sight he was witnessing; that of which being your body.

Gojo stared at them like if he tried hard enough, he could make them go blind with his mind.

Satoru would never in a million years stop you from wearing something you wanted out of the house; scandalous or not.

He loved seeing you feel good in your body, so if that meant wearing nipple pasty’s and a fishnet bodysuit out of the house? so be it, he would be in his rightful place on your hip the whole time.

But right now, he really wished everyone would stop looking at what was his.

He knew you looked good, you always did, but that didn’t give these sleazeball’s the right to oggle you like a piece of meat.

Bringing his attention back to you and the man you were conversing with, he noticed his hand had placed itself on the side of your stool, dangerously close to your thigh.

His lip twitched at the thought of his filthy hands touching your sacred body.

Giving a one over to the people around him once more and realizing that a lot more than just the man you were talking to and the 2 sluts objectifying you in the corner were passing glances at you.

“Gojo? you good?” His old acquaintance asked skeptically when he realized the veins looked like they were threatening to burst in gojos hands as he squeezed at the arm of the sofa.

Satoru stood up without saying so much as a goodbye to the people he was with, not caring about how rude or disrespectful he came off, as he quickly made his way over to your side of the room.

“Haha, I agree,” the man laughed a little to hard at something you said that truthfully wasn’t all that funny, “Mind if I get you another drink cute thing? Looks like you finished that one.” he flirted.

Finally picking up at his flirtations you started to reply, “Oh! uh.” uncomfortably shifting in your seat at the pet name, suddenly way to aware of his hand on your stool next to your leg. When did it even get there?

Looking over to where Satoru was supposed to be, eyes widening slightly, when the familiar face was nowhere to be found.

“Sorry cute thing, did i scare ya?” gojo mimicked the man across from you, staring daggers into his eyes with his intimidating orbs as he wrapped his arms around your body, large frame towering behind you.

“Satoru! jus’ figured you went to the bathroom or somethin’” you said, rubbing his hand that was placed on your torso with your thumb affectionately.

“Uh we were having a conversation.” the man interrupted your affections to one another, not listening to Satoru’s very obvious hints that you were not on the market. He figured he would make it a little more obvious for the strangers dense little head.

“Sorry buddy, i’m not feeling too well right now, so I need my cute little girlfriend to take me home.” emphasizing the nature of your relationship as he pouted his lip fakely at him.

“Not feelin good toru?” you asked, turning your neck around to look at him, face full of concern.

He felt his heart skip a beat at your worried tone. “Yeah ‘m sorry baby, you looked like you were havin a good time, but I really wanna get outta here.” overwhelming eyes glancing over the room, scaring off each and every last person’s ravenous stares on your body.

You stood up, smoothing out your dress as gojo fell into position like always, hand on the slope of your back as he crouched down to lay his head on your shoulder dramatically, trying to get you to baby him.

It worked, your hand coming up to ruffle his hair, “It’s alright toru, my conversation here was just wrapping up.” you referred to the man who unbeknownst to you was trying to come onto you throughout this whole interaction.

Sticking his tongue out childishly at the man when you weren’t looking, the two of you started for the door.

Gojo never got self conscious about himself, but you were different. He didn’t realize how much he really hated people looking at you like you were nothing but a body until you were in situations like these.

He wasn’t scared you would leave him for someone else but…ok maybe he was slightly scared you would leave him for someone else.

He’s the great Gojo Satoru!! The strongest sorcerer of the modern age!! People think he wasn’t aware of how obnoxious his personality got sometimes, but he was. He was aware of it being a turn off for many people.

He never thought that you would feel like that about him though, but seeing all of these admittedly attractive people who possibly had less annoying tendencies than him made him hold your body against him tighter.

“Are you feeling alright satoru? you never wanna leave these things early.” you asked, coming to stand in front of him when you finally exited the building. Standing on your tippy toes to reach his forehead, placing the back of your hand against it to feel if he was coming down with something.

Gojo relished in your warm hand against his soft skin, closing his eyes at the contact and groaning when you pulled away. “M fine, people just have fucking staring problems.” he mumbled under his breath.

“Huh?” you asked confused when he didn’t elaborate. Gojo grabbed your hand, dragging you in the direction of the car.

The walk was a short one. When you finally arrived, he opened got door for you, helping you into the car as he shut it behind you, walking around to his respective side of the car and sliding in before turning on the ignition, pulling out onto the dark street.

You rubbed your hand on his thigh comfortingly when he stayed silent.

“You love me right?” He spoke up, uncharacteristically insecure.

“You big dope, did you get jealous watchin me talk to someone else all night? You left me first remember?” hand coming up briefly to pinch his cheek, making him groan, before dropping back down to his thigh.

“Course I love you.” you admitted truthfully.

“Ugghhhhh” gojo groaned loudly, slightly tipping his head back, being sure to keep his eyes on the road when he did so, “but he was practically fucking you with his eyesss.” drawling our his words childishly, pouting over at you.

“He what?” you asked in bewilderment.

“So oblivious baby, you need to be more careful, someone besides your big strong boyfriend might try to eat you up one day” grimacing slightly as he shook his head at your lack of picking-up-when-people-wanna-fuck-you radar.

“What kinda of weird things are you imagining in that head of yours, huh?” letting out a short laugh at his ridiculousness, retracting your hand back into your own lap.

“I’m seriousss,” he whined, glancing over at you, “He was lookin at you like he could fuck you better than I do.”

You almost choked on your spit at his words, “Satoru gojo!” you chastised at his bluntness.

Now it was his turn to drop his hand onto your thigh, squeezing the fat there when he spoke, “I’ll prove him wrong when we get home, gonna show him how much better I can make you feel.” He said, determination, laced in his voice.

“Satoru I don’t even remember his name.” You replied honestly, not denying that his promise sounded very intriguing though, still internally scoffing at his childishness in the current situation.

“Bet he remembers yours.” Making a point to slide his big hand higher up your thigh.

“Bet he memorized every inch of your body too, fucking undressing what’s mine with his eyes, who does he think he is.” gripping your thigh tightly as he got angry at his own words.

You gasped quietly, thighs squeezing together almost unnoticeably at gojos rough treatment of your leg.

"T-toru you're making stuff up again. You stuttered out, watching his jaw clench under the pressure of his teeth pressing tightly together inside his closed mouth.

Satoru ignored your words completely as he kept voicing his thoughts, "He wouldn't have any idea how to touch you like I do."

"Satoru, please." You begged, starting to feel yourself grow wet at his dirty words.

"What is it princess? The thought of me touchin' you getting you all excited?" Finally stopping his chatter about the unwanted man.

"Yes, please for the love of god stop talking." you gripped his wrist connected to his hand that was still tightly on your thigh.

"But I love making you feel good baby, wanna make you feel good all the time." He wines. You drop your gaze down to his lap and notice the massive tent in his pants, twitching every so often.

He really wasn't lying when he said he loves making you feel good. Figuring that part of the culprit for his huge boner was gojo's own words, working himself up for no reason. Not like you were complaining, as it was sounding like you were about get the best dick of your life soon.

Satoru had nothing to prove to anyone in your eyes, but in his, he had multiple faces burning into his retinas of people from the club that he wanted to line up in front of his king bed, and make them watch while he showed them how to properly treat someone like you.

"You make me feel so good satoru, dont think anyone's denying that, but ur makin' me feel all needy, please shut ur mouth till we get home. Don't know if I can take it." You whine, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand.

He giggled, retracting his hand from your thigh, opting to place his elbow agasint the center console, grinning as he shut himself up, cock still throbbing for attention against his zipper.

The rest of the car ride was silent, air palpable, and thick with the need you both had for each other. When the car came to a park in his garage, he calmly slid out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Walking at a steady pace over to your side of the car while you waited patiently, hands crossed in your lap as you swallowed harshly.

When he slung your door open his hand came into your view, placing your palm in his larger one, he assisted you out of the car, shutting the door behind you. He let you walk in front of him, trailing closely behind you.

Getting your keys out of your purse, you flipped through them, trying to find the one that led to satoru's garage door, shaky hands trying to steady themselves when you felt Gojo press himself against your back.

You felt his clothed boner press against your ass first, followed by his hands sliding over your lower stomach, eyes rolling back at the feeling. Then you felt his plush lips against your neck, leaving soft kisses down the sensitive skin as you fought your brain to work properly so you could insert the key into the door and get on with him.

He whimpered your name into your neck, followed by a "hurry" right when you successfully cracked the door open.

Gojo swiftly spun your body around, pinning you against the door and shutting it in the process, pressing his chest to yours as he assulted your lips with kisses, moaning against you.

He slotted his thick thigh between yours, forcing a whimper out of your mouth as he undid the hooks to your dress on the nape of your neck.

"Bedroom" you managed to get out in between kisses. He started removing his tie, quickly undoing the top 2 of his dress shirt buttons, and pulling you backwards with him when he started for the bedroom.

The light of the night seeping in from his floor to ceiling window wall being the only light the two of you had to be able to navigate through his large house.

You whimpered his name into his mouth, cursing when he slid your zipper down your back while you made your way to the bedroom. You kicked the fabric off your body and he leaned down to scoop you up in his arms, now having unobstructed access to your body.

Wrapping your legs around his hips, panty-clad cunt grinding into the rough material of his pants when you bounced along his body as he walked. "Need you," he muttered against your lips between kisses. while he reached a heavy hand around your back and expertly snapped off your bra.

Bumping you both into the wall quite a few times, easing the tension a bit and making you both giggle into the kiss, before he finally made it to the destination of his bedroom.

Plopping your back down on the bed, legs still tightly wrapped around his hips. Gojo started needily humping against your heat, hand coming down to undo his belt quickly.

"Fuck me satoru." you moaned into his mouth. Gojo had to slap himself mentally at that, gaining a sliver of his rational brain back. He had something he wanted to do before he fucked you good.

"I will baby, I will. don't worry" gojo left his promise all over your lips.

Finding his zipper with ease he slid the metal down, leaning back from your frame to try and slide his pants off, proving to be a challenge when your legs stayed wrapped tightly on his hips.

"Gotta let me go so I can get ready for you princess." He smirked. Your eyes were lidded, face flushed, and lips swollen from his lips assault. Breathing heavily you whispered out an "ok" before dropping your legs against the mattress.

"Such a good girl." Gojo praised, sliding his pants and boxers off in one swift motion, long curved cock flopping up against his abdomen with a wet "plp" sound from he dripping tip. His cock looked so angry, the tip a darker shade of pink than it usually was from how aroused he was right now. Nothing but the thought of pleasing you on his brain.

You pressed your knees together in front of him, trying to relive some of the neediness you were feeling between your thighs at the sight of his thick cock. Your eyes flitted between his deliciously curved member, and his beautiful eyes when he leaned over you again, sliding his fingers underneath the fabric of the panties resting on your hip, and sliding them off of you.

Satoru groaned out loud when the cloth peeled away from your cunt. The part that cupped your mound sticking to your skin from how your wetness had seeped through in anticipation.

"Haven't even done anything yet and you're so fucking wet." he moaned, balling up the panties in his hand and throwing them in the pile he was creating, currently made up of just his pants and boxers, making a mental note to keep that specific pair to himself after this.

Undoing the last couple of his dress shirt buttons he let it drape off his large frame sensually, joining the mess on the floor, leaving him completely nude. You yourself were not fairing any better, having been stripped naked in the hall, expensive dress forgotten somewhere in the living room.

Placing his hands on your kneecaps, he spread you open for him, staring hungrily down at your cunt, shaking his head at his disbelief when he saw the slick practically gushing out of your little hole, clenching around nothing.

"Please do something." You begged. Gojo didn't waste any more time, he wrapped his hands around your hips, and placed his back against the headboard in a sitting position, plopping you down on top of him, smaller hands pressing themselves against his pecs.

His cock throbbed, hovering right under your pussy. If he just thrust his hips up slightly, it might accidentally slip in.

"Want you to face away from me, and sit yourself on my dick." He requested, "Dont worry about movin' jus want you to take it all in yourself." He comforted.

Gojo never got tired of watching you struggle to take in his ridiculous size, little moans and cries slipping out between your lips as your face scrunched in pleasure, tears forcing their way down your cheeks. The latter reaction he unfortunately wouldn't be able to witness this time, as you started into action.

Turning your naked chest away from him; much to his dismay; bracing your feet on the bed, one hand coming back to stabilize yourself against his hard abs while you used the other to align his impossibly hard cock with your tiny hole.

Rubbing the tip and his precum alike against your enterance, before your other hand came down to hold your weight against his abs, cock sliding into you with litte resistance thanks to how wet you both were.

"F-fuuuuck 's so big," You whined, tipping your head back and squeezing your eyes shut at the stretch. Gojo bit his lip, hand gripping bruisingly into your hip, relishing in your warm walls constricting around his cock.

"I knoww, takin it so good though princess, just like you always do," He praised, rubbing his fingertips against your skin as he kept talking you through it. Both of you letting out a groan together when you finally bottomed out on his cock.

You let your weight off of your feet and hands when Satoru placed his own on the bed, slinging your legs over his thighs, and making you hold your legs open for him as he placed kisses to the back of your head, "Did so good baby, took the whole thing so fucking good." His words made you clench around him, a feeling he didn't miss, as he smiled against your scalp.

"Satoru...move," you pleaded, noticing how he was staying still. He told you not to move, so you didn't, but you didn't know if you could take it if he only wanted to cockwarm you right now.

"Patience baby," Your body moved with his slightly when he leaned his body sideways, cracking open the bedside drawer and pulling out a baby blue bullet vibrator, clicking the toy on to make sure it was charged, before clicking it beck off when it successfully vibrated strongly between his fingers.

"Gonna make you feel so good princess," Confused at the brief buzzing sound you heard, about to voice your question when you felt the buzzing this time.

Gojo had pressed the vibrator against the inside of your thigh, slowly dragging it up and down your skin teasingly.

“T-toru- what are u doin?” you asked in a small voice, legs twitching, threatening to close in on themselves if it wasn’t for your hands keeping them open.

“Gonna worship you baby, just lay there n keep those legs spread for me ok?” His tall stature meant that even sitting, he still towered over you. This gave him a great view of everything.

Staring down at you he could see the side of your face; and the blush that covered it; the way your body folded, your wetness sticking against your inner thighs. Gojo was in heaven.

Using his free hand, he splayed his massive palm out right under your breast, keeping you pressed against his body.

He felt your pussy twitch around his cock steadily, feeling the heartbeat in your walls as you continued rubbing the soft silicone that coated the vibrator, over your skin.

The continuous pulsing around his shaft was making him dizzy, eyelids drooping heavily on his face, body buzzing with warmth and arousal at the situation.

His teasing finally ceased when he heard you whimper out his name sweetly, begging for the last time without words that you needed him to do something.

Placing the vibrator on its lowest setting against the hood of your clit softly, rubbing it in small circles over the nub. Gojo alternated between the latter motion and pressing it directly against your clit, pushing the hood of your clit out of the way, being forced to make room for the toy.

Your stomach clenched, body jerking in on itself when the toy touched a particular part of your pussy, and the stimulation became a little too much.

“o-oh my go-d toruuu,” you whined. Gojo’s watchful eyes never left his ministrations on your clit, absolutely enthralled with the scene in front of him. “looks like that feels so fucking good,” he moaned into the shell of your ear, wincing when your walls squeezed around his cock like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth.

“s-oo good f-fuck.” your breathily moans filled the air as you tipped your head back on his shoulder. He quickly started pressing little kisses all over your cheeks as you shut your eyes, letting him take care of you.

“That’s right, let go for me baby, I got you.” he softly whispered against your cheek, diverting his eyes back on your pussy. If he looked close enough he could see the way your opening squeezed around him, the sight being almost too erotic to handle.

“Keep your body against me baby,” he said before he left his hold on your torso and joined it down between your thighs with his other hand.

Using a couple thick fingers, he traced around the opening of your cunt, feeling how the soft flesh was pulled taught to make room for his girth.

“That t-ickles,” you wined, feeling him make a V shape with his index and middle fingers, rubbing them around where the base of his cock and your pussy met.

“Does it only tickle?” he asked, proving your words wrong when he pressed the vibrator harder against you, the buzzing sensation making your toes curl.

“So erotic..” he let out a little giggle, “Wish you could see this right now.” he continued, drawing little shapes on your clit and rubbing around the rim of your cunt, “Pussy is stretched to the limits while she’s huggin my cock.” he spoke, amazed.

You whined at his dirty words, silently wishing he would shut his big mouth, but not daring to say it out loud. His words not-so-secretly making you even wetter.

His cock had been leaking steadily into you throughout this entire interaction. Balls tightening with the need to release his seed inside you, to really fill you up and mark you internally as his.

Gojo closed his eyes, relishing in the intamacy, pressing his plush lips to your neck and sucking, leaving little bruises all over the expanse of your neck that he could reach.

After a while, he noticed your breath had started to pick up, cunt squeezing him continuously now instead of pulsing, “T-toru, think i-i’m gonna cum.” you whined softly, tilting your head towards him, making his raise his from his place against your neck, and stare into your eyes.

He smiled, already knowing from what your body was telling him before you spoke. “Go ahead baby, want feel you cum around my dick, you deserve it.” he spoke sweetly.

As much as he wanted to watch your pussy when it gushed out around him, right now he was so enthralled with your face. The both of you staring at each other, breathing heavily, your expression was pulled in an aroused pout, while his lips were formed in a smile.

You knew this orgasm was going to be a big one, stomach tingling with a stronger sensation than normal. Internally panicking slightly before you spoke, “f-feels d-ifferent toru.” you warned.

“Feel kinda like ur gunna pee?” he knowingly questioned. It took every molecule in his body to not cum when you nodded your head twords him, “Aww ‘s ok princess, just let it out okay? promise it’s gonna feel so fucking good.” he encouraged.

You were about to squirt. This was something he thought about in the back of his mind every time he fucked you. Always wishing that when you came, something else would come out too.

You were squirming around in his hold at the unfamiliar feeling coiling itself in your tummy. The steady buzzing and delicious circles he was keeping up on your clit only increasing the intensity of it.

Feeling yourself begin to tip over the edge, you hurried out your words, “T-toru, kiss meee, p-please,” needing him to help you through the sensation that was about to come.

“I got you, I got you.” he giggled, pressing his lips to yours, messily tonguing the inside of your mouth while your moans raised it pitch, whimpering into his cavern.

“mhm, mhmmm,” he encouraged, as he started thrusting his hips up, fucking his dick in and out of you, helping you feel even better as his tip beat repeatedly against your gspot.

Your mouth stopped cooperating, jaw going slack as you felt your orgasm start to wreck you. Eyes rolling back in your head as the waves of your high washed over you, “yesyesyes,” gojo groaned out laughing, feeling the first trickles of your squirt spray out around him.

You were moaning so loud, broke cries of his barely coherent name leaving your mouth as he quickly rubbed the vibrator back and forth across your clit.

Balls finally releasing his seed into you at the feeling and visual of your squirt absolutely drenching the sheets underneath the two of you.

He groaned into the air, breathy laughs mixing in with them while he humped each and every last rope of his cum into your womb, pressing his balls hard against your ass when he thrusted inside.

“Holy shittt,” he dragged out when he started to come down from arguably one of the best orgasms he’s ever had in his life.

“That was so fucking hot, good job baby,” bringing his attention back your face, leaving sloppy wet kisses all over your cheeks, licking up the tears that had fallen.

You looked so fucked out, chest heaving, and cunt twitching around him in the aftershocks, eyes fluttering at the intensity in which you just came.

“You did so fucking well, how did that feel?” he asked? Giving yourself a second to catch your breath before you spoke, you mumbled out, “intense.”

“Awww I bet, looked like it felt so good to let it out though, pussy almost snapped my dick off with that one.” he giggled into your cheek.

“Thank you toru, needed that.” you spoke breathlessly.

“Don’t thank me just yet sweet thing” he said. You cracked your eyes open when you felt him slide out from underneath you, situating you in the missionary position.

Gojo placed the breifly forgot about vibrator back on your oversensitive clit, making your legs squeeze around his hips as he used the tips of his fingers to guide his still hard cock back into your warmth.

“Fuck! S-satoru what are you doing?” you panicked as painful pleasure started wracking your body, trying to jerk and jolt away from the stimulation.

“J-jus came ‘m s-sensitiveee.” you whined, fat tears rolling down your face as he started a rough pace, fucking his cock into your gspot, making your words break up when you spoke.

“Cuming just once isn’t enough for my pretty babyyy, you deserve more than that,” abandoning the vibrator for a second to push your thighs against your head, and placing your ankles over his shoulders as he put you in a mean mating press.

“C-cant t-take it.” you voiced in between thrusts, pussy spasming uncontrollably around his fat cock. Once gojo had manhandled you where he wanted you, he placed the bullet back on your puffy clit, making you scream out.

You were feeling so overwhelmed, thighs burning from being pushed to the limits in flexibility, feeling his weight crush you while he bullied his cock into your drenched walls, and the toy? You swore this would be the night gojo killed you during sex.

“Just let yourself feel it baby, relax your body for me let me do allll the work.” he spoke, trying to reassure you as he dropped his gaze to where the two of you were connected, loud squelches emitting from him fucking into you at how wet you were, gojo feeling lightheaded seeing the thick ring of cum at the base of his dick.

Without warning he felt you squeeze around his length impossibly tight, feeling something spray against his abdomen, realizing you were squirting again.

“Yeaahhhh fuck, that’s what I wanted to see.” He brought back his hips before slamming them into you harder, feeling impossibly aroused seeing this new orgasm crash over you a second time.

Your moans and protests were incoherent at this point, tears and drool covering your face as he fucked you through another intense high.

Satoru started to feel himself reach his peak again but he needed to see that one more time before he allowed himself release.

“Good girl, gooooood fucking girl.” he praised at your lack of resistance when your body went lax against him.

You gave up on fighting the pleasure, really letting your brain go numb at the feeling of, well, everything. There was so much going on, his lips would be on your neck one second, tongue in your mouth the next, babbling some dirty talk you were too fucked out to comprehend.

The vibrator was being slid all over your folds with no rhythm, but it felt so fucking good.

“Cmon you can do it, one more time baby just one more time, need to feel you squirt around me, please.” he begged.

Gojo was fucking you both stupid at this point, he was drooling, feeling so fucking pussydrunk as he mindlessly thrusted his cock in and out of your wetness.

Quickly and sloppily sliding the bullet over your clit one last time before he heard you whimper out a warning of your orgasm, impressed you were still able to form words at this point.

His jaw dropped as he came with you, electricity zapping down his spine feeling you gush around him while he stuffed you full, his moans were so needy and high pitched, overstimulating himself by rolling his hips into yours, making sure your cunt swallowed every drop of his cum.

“F-fuck, loveyousomuch.” he slurred, dropping his entire weight against your folded body, making your tendons scream at the stretch.

“S-satoru..hurts.” you voiced, successfully getting him to lean back, letting your legs drop onto the sheets, thighs and toes tingling when the blood started to circulate through them again.

“God you’re fucking amazing, hope u felt as good as I did.” He murmured into your chest.

“are u kidding? almost died.” you whispered, brain still tingling while you gained your braincells back slowly.

He wrapped his strong arms around your body, keeping his softening cock snug inside you, his chest pressed against your was firmly.

You both relished in the feeling for awhile, intertwining your legs and feet together against the bed, wanting to feel this intamacy for a little longer before you ultimately had to clean up.

“So…think club guy could make you cum harder than that?” he spoke into your breasts.

Using your arms to gather all of the strength you had left, placing your sweaty hands on his cheeks, making him raise his head to look up at you, “Satoru,” you chastised, “don’t ruin this.” falling into a fit of giggles when he groaned in defeat, sending vibrations through your lungs.

9K notes · View notes

cherry-leclerc · 7 months ago

Text

cherry cola ☆ op81

genre: smut, humor, yearning, tiny bit of fluff, virgin!reader, innocent!reader, experienced!oscar, sub!reader (for a while!), dom!oscar (for a while!)

word count: 8.5k

After a painful break up, Oscar finds himself head-to-head with an enticing girl, filled with pure innocence. Also known as, his parents secret weapon, and his worst temptation.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...f!receiving, fingering, brief mentions of masturbation, face riding, missionary sex, doggy style

inspired by this !

cherry here!... hellooo anons, long time, no see haha sorry for the lack of posts, but hopefully this makes up for it, somehow? formal apology for my last post too while we're at it. though this fic is inspired by cola by lana del rey, it will not have a sour ending like past fics (iykyk). missed u all, so here ya go! enjoy :)

There is an apprehensive sensation that towers over him as soon as she walks in; shy mannered, tall, and firm with a hint of hesitation—it’s something he adores about her, but also something that has him feeling jittery. Oftentimes, her lips are his most prized possession, enjoying the way they move. All except at this very moment.

Everyone notices his bitter, broken, and quiet mood despite always laying low. He’s never been one to share his problems with others, and he most definitely was not going to start now. It should be the best moment of the season—his first win—but he doesn’t have the joy to celebrate it with anyone.

Oscar’s brown eyes are low and dull; empty. He’d be a damn liar if he said he didn’t see any of this coming. If he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt and misery. Should he have been more attentive, a better boyfriend, then he wouldn’t be regretting his life choices. Dramatic, but true.

“How are you spending your summer break? Are you and Lily traveling?”

The Australian tries to scoff at the innocent inquiry beaming from his teammate, but he settles with a wince, not being able to hide it. “She, um…we broke up, actually.” He’s never been a religious individual—has never even set foot inside a church—but for the first time in his life, he prayed no more questions would be asked.

Lando raises his thick brows, clearly surprised by the sudden confession. Sure, they were a private couple—likely the most in the entire paddock—but he never saw this coming from Oscar and Lily. Though he only met her a couple of times, simply exchanging a kind greeting, he would’ve bet his entire Rolex collection that the couple were smitten with one another. “Ah, I’m sorry, mate.”

The rude sound of his race suit being zipped up harshly makes the Brit flinch in the slightest. “Don’t worry about it. That’s life, no?”

Costa Rica—they were supposed to go to Costa Rica. Instead, now, he sits alone on a flight back to his home country. He’s ecstatic to be sleeping in his childhood room with outdated posters hung of all his favorite drivers, but the feeling lingers.

Sprawled like a koala, humid t-shirt pressed against his skin, he tosses and turns for an estimate of five whole minutes. He should be enjoying the beach, sipping on highly sweetened margaritas, getting the worst tan of his life, but he’s here. The hot summer air in Melbourne makes him spit out a string of dirty curses that would send his mum into a coma.

The brunette might as well be an only child since not a single one of his three sisters were here to keep him company, ditching him with his parents. He loved them, of course he did, but a full house was his ideal way to spend his break. His home gym isn’t even enough to help him forget, even for a second.

“Dinner is ready, honey,” Nicole announces, peeking carefully through the crack of the door. She grins widely. “There’s even pavlova—your favorite.”

He forces a polite nod, shaggy hair dangling just above his eyes. “Thank you. I’ll be out in a bit.” It actually takes a sum of thirty-minutes for him to jog down the stairs, a strong scent of apple expanding from his now washed hair. His dad hums as soon as he spots the McLaren driver.

“It’s rude to leave guests waiting, Oscar,” he warns with a deep voice.

The twenty-three year old assumes it’s a lame dad joke, perhaps, so runs along with it, taking a good look around the dining room. “Won’t happen again. I showered—”

“Where would you like to place the dessert, Mrs. Piastri?” a soft voice echoes down the hallway as he turns at the unfamiliar tone. You halt, caught off guard by the new presence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you would be here.”

“In my own home?” he finds himself squeaking involuntarily. The stern look that dances across his parents faces is enough for him to bite down on his tongue. He doesn’t even know why he said any of that—especially to a stranger.

They introduce you two quickly, though you’re just as fast as to say that you obviously knew about his existence. Do you follow my races? You shake your head, glossy hair shining. “I work for your parents, so…I sort of know. Plus, your sisters always talk highly about you when you’re gone.”

He blinks. “You work here?” Brown eyes flicker to his parents, confusion written all over. “What could she possibly do?”

“Oscar,” Nicole scolds. “I thought you left all the unnecessary questions back in junior high.”

Chris slides a large hand over her smaller one, calming her down just a tad bit. The older man sighs. “You know your mum, always looking for something new to do—”

“I wanted to grow a garden!” she squeals, delighted. “Like in all those magazines you get me for my birthday—oh, so lovely, honey. Only I realized, I don’t know anything about gardening.”

“And this lovely girl standing right here is a total natural. Her hands must be magic.” Oscar blushes hard at his dads choice of words. “She’s helping us out for the time being. Until we get back.”

The Australian's mouth opens, then snaps back shut, swallowing. “Get back from where?”

“Costa Rica!”

He gapes. “You’re using my tickets?”

Nicole winces. “Can’t let them go to waste, honey…”

His father butts in. “How is Lily by the way?”

The brunette groans, running his hands through his waves. “How should I know? Come on, you guys can’t be serious.” The tickets weren’t the problem; the fact that they were leaving was. He spots you awkwardly placing the pastry down onto the table. “Can you give us a minute?”

“Yes, of course,” you quip, glad to have a reason to flee far enough away from the premises. You turn to the Piastri’s who smile fondly at your understanding. “I’ll be out in the garden.”

As soon as you rush out, the twenty-three year old turns swiftly. “I guess I’m leaving too.”

“Don’t you dare, Oscar Jack Piastri—” He fumes. “Why not? You’re all going to be gone!”

“She won’t—you are keeping her company.” She’s not asking; she’s demanding. Staring back in shock, the McLaren driver avoids eye contact, fidgeting like a kid at their first day of school. His mum stands up, makes her way over, and pecks his soft cheek. “She’s a sweet girl. She won’t be a bother—she’s just down the hallway.”

That’s where Lily would always stay back when they first started their relationship; too afraid of making a bad impression on his parents. He found it adorable. He rolls his eyes and releases a heavy breath. “Fine.” He stares out the glass window, focusing on where you patiently sit on the wooden bench, delicate hands pressing your dress down against your thighs. “Fine...”

The following morning, his parents wake him up at the crack of dawn, bidding goodbye. It comes as a total surprise, thinking he had a few more days left with them, but no. He’s barely registering any of it before they whisper inaudible nonsense and scurry out of his bedroom.

After some debating, he changes and decides to go on a quick run. The sight of Ms. Alleck watering her burnt grass makes him smile as he sets off. It would have been easier to not get as tired if it were a slight bit chilly, but it’s blazing hot. He cuts it short, dashing back home and immediately serving himself a glass of cold water.

“You’re up early.”

The brown eyed boy jumps in sudden surprise. Standing in a pastel yellow sleeping gown, you grin brightly. Long lashes lay flat, nose pinching rosy pink, and breath minty. “Yeah, my folks sort of woke me up. Couldn’t fall back asleep.”

“Oh.” You pout. “They left already?”

“You knew?”

“Yup. They mentioned it last night before bed.” A beat. “I hope me staying here isn’t making you uncomfortable…it’s just that they offered, and—”

“It’s not.” Lie. “Make yourself at home.”

Not much is seen or heard from him for the majority of the day; occasional glaces coming here and there. They put you in an uncomfortable spot yesterday—you had been working on the garden for a year now, damn it—but their son's demeanor took you by surprise. The pictures and stories were something you relied on as the only source of getting to know him: polite, tall, and swanky—boyish.

That was so far from the truth. Oscar Piastri has grown into his body; almost appearing to be a handsome giant. Despite his warm face, his attitude is a bit snarky. He has no problem in saying what’s on his mind. And he is most definitely not a boy.

He’s a man.

“What do you say?”

“Sorry?”

He chuckles, Adam's Apple dancing up and down. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”

It wasn't his intention to try and get close to you—not purposefully, at least—but he thought; why not? Who knows when his parents are coming back, when his sisters would, and he wanted to prove to you that he wasn’t some snotty guy. Summer is summer, after all. A friend to spend it with sounds quite nice.

Pursing your red lips, you nod, setting your book aside. The dinner table is already set up. Chicken and rice. That’s it. Given, it looks and smells amazing, but plain. You quirk a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to eat your greens? To drive quicker?” He burns up at you teasing tone.

“I didn’t want to risk burning the house down. We’re lucky I was able to get even this done.”

“Very well.” The refrigerator opens, colorful veggies staring back at him. You grin, slow and easy. “I’ll take care of it. It’s only fair, roomie.”

Oscar left home a few years ago, migrating to the United Kingdom for work, so it had been a while since he had stepped foot in his backyard. He faintly remembers his pirate treehouse, his sisters’ Barbie’s cluttered inside. It was a bone-chilling sight for baby Oscar back then, but now, the paint is chipping off, the wood looks a lot weaker. It’s a nostalgic feeling.

The new additions are stunning. A bunch of healthy flowers beam back at him and he swallows when he realizes he can’t name a single one. Waxflowers, Calamint, Dahlias, Peonies, Carnations, California Poppies. One by one, he admires with an open mouth. “They’re beautiful.” He turns to you with a proud smile. “You’ve done an excellent job.”

Pink feathers onto your already blushed cheeks, biting back a cheesy grin. You had decided to eat out on the bench, choosing to enjoy the now fresh air. Still humid, but less than before. The scent of coconut sunscreen makes his whiff constantly. “So…Costa Rica?”

He winces. It was too soon to talk about the situation, but something in your calm voice makes it easier to spit it out even though you probably already heard from his parents. All of a sudden, your savory carrots taste like complete shit. “T’was supposed to go with my girlf—my ex. My ex-girlfriend.”

You pout, sorrowfully. “Oh, I’m sorry, Oscar. I didn’t mean to…I had no clue.” And it’s genuine. Guess his parents weren’t complete traitors.

“Tell me—how long have you been working on fixing the garden?”

“Since last summer,” you hum, chewing down on a piece of grilled chicken. “This is the first time I have actually stayed here, though. Your parents are sweet. As soon as they heard that you were coming back home, they insisted I kept you company.”

Sharp jaw clenches and he scoffs. You simply blink back innocently. Then, he notices it. The way it reflects against the yellow ray of the now setting sun. He knows what it is, so he doesn’t ask. Too busy staring off into the distance, you place your plate down. “Let me show you a few other things I’ve been working on.”

There’s row and row, further into the open area; every twist and turn makes his brows raise up higher, impressed by the noticeable updates. Coming to a halt, he spins his head around, brown locks hitting his temples. “Since when do we have a cherry tree?”

You beam, orbs shining with excitement. “Since last summer!” you repeat, cheerfully. You pick one, handing it for him to try. An embarrassing moan erupts once the sweet nectar slides down his throat. “Good?”

“Bloody amazing.” Every compliment makes you squeal with delight. “My mum is actually allergic to cherries, so how…”

“She was actually the one who brought it up. Said she knew how much I loved them, and that I deserved a little something for flourishing her garden. I couldn’t deny the chance to do so.” You bite down on your lip, sheepishly. “They are my favorite.”

Reaching for one makes him look away as soon as your dress rises up, soft legs poking through. Bare feet press against the wet grass as you tippy toe. He mustered a fake cough, but as soon as you bite down onto the bloody fruit, he clicks into a trance.

Plump lips; thick and juicy. Long lashes fluttering shut against your glossy cheeks. That could have been because of the summer heat, but it affected him just the same. The familiar sensation of attraction rushes to his cock as he stands stiffly—but also loosely. He was loose. So fucking loose.

Something hits his cheekbones and it rips him away from his drooling. A singular seed now lays by his feet; indicating what you had done. A crinkled, wobbly smile shines back at him, hands nervously flattening your dress back down. The Australian jokingly lunges towards you as you squeal, backing away.

“You were disintegrating! I had to get your attention one way or another!”

Oh, you definitely got his attention. Giving you one final scowl, he stops his steps. “Everything—all of it—it’s great. Thank you.” The wind picks up and you shiver. “...for doing this for my parents.”

Neat hair flies against the breeze, covering your eyes for a minute. Pushing it aside, you scrunch your nose faintly. “Anytime.”

Technically, what you’re getting paid for was to watch over the beloved yard; that’s all. But you offer to do more. Mow the lawn? Paint the chipped wall? Wash the windows?

“God no, darling,” Oscar’s mum laughs through the end of the line. “You are doing enough already. Please. Relax.”

But you can’t. Nibbling on your thumb, you brush the counter, strolling past countless family portraits. A smile slips when you spot a toothless Oscar. “I insist.”

So, here you are; decluttering the attic. After a bit of bickering with Nicole, she eventually gives in and asks for a favor. Clean and tidy the small room. Easy peasy.

“Ouch,” you hiss when a nail digs through your skin, gore immediately pouring out of you like a waterfall; you squeak. Just then, a certain brunette peeks their head through the entrance.

“Oh good, it’s you. I thought we had an intruder.”

Raising a skeptical brow at him and the thin duvet, you quickly take it from him, pressing it down to ease the bleeding. “Holy crap, are you okay?” In one motion, he steps closer to you, analyzing the injury with worried eyes. You groan.

“It’s only a little cut. No biggie.” But the way your face is slowly losing color lets him know that your words aren't true. Brown eyes flicker, searching for a spot to sit, but everything about this is crowded. You were just about to start tidying; the mess was still there. Crouching onto a tiny stool, he takes a seat, somehow still towering over you. Or at least that's what it felt like, because suddenly, you felt suffocated.

His long legs are spread as you stand between them, hand out towards him as he winces at the brutal cut. “Ah—that’s pretty deep.” He gags when he notices the underneath flesh. You suppress a giggle. “We should go to the ER.”

You scoff, ripping away from his grip, tripping over a box. Regaining your balance, you drape the cloth over your hand once again. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll be right back.”

After rinsing your hand with alcohol, covering the wound with the largest bandaid to ever exist, and balling your eyes out, you make your way back up. The Australian is drenched in sweat, huffing and puffing. “Got it,” he pants. Confused, you tilt your head to the side, but that’s when you pick out the nail in the palm of his hand. You blink, too bewildered to make sense of how he retrieved it without the help of a hammer. “I also found lots of old trophies. Extremely bittersweet.”

“Why’s that?” you hum, kneeling down next to him, reading through the labels. Each makes you more and more dazzled.

A minute passes by. “Because I grew up.”

“That’s…sad.” Shrugging, he digs for more. He laughs loudly, throwing his head back. “Dear G—I forgot this even existed!”

Oscar’s 81 Things To-Do During the Summer [List]

Learn how to bike.

Learn the Australian National Anthem (Sophie will be beautifully impressed)

Get better at being more outgoing (Mum is worried)

So on and so forth. “You were an extremely creative lad. Eighty-one things to do…eh.” A tongue click. “Possibly buy a pet dragon?”

He cringes. “Not all were realistic. I actually never really got around to it. Mainly added, if anything.”

Crimson red flashes. “I, um, I could tell.”

69. Oscar Piastri, you know what I mean.

The brunette chokes on his saliva, yanking it away as fast as he can. Standing up to his full height, he rolls up the piece of paper and points towards the exit. “I think I should, um…yeah. See ya.”

“Yeah.” He dashes off. “See you…”

Eighteen-year old Oscar was a horny bastard. But every guy that age is, so it’s not really fair to feel bad about his list. The writing is obviously his, but the things jotted down made him almost feel like it wasn’t. Blowjobs? Hand jobs? What was he thinking?

And then, there was you—a curious cat. He had to be a virgin; he just had to. Why else would he be embarrassed? You weren’t one to judge, though. You knew nothing about the sexual world, having never partaken. The thin band wrapped around your ring finger is enough proof.

And no—you weren’t married.

It would have been absolutely diabolical to mention sex in your household growing up. Being Roman Catholics is no joke, believing religiously to wait until marriage. You never had a problem with that; you would wait. Doesn’t mean you didn’t know what any of the common terms meant. Sort of.

Only now—for the first time in your life—there it was.

Temptation.

The McLaren driver was no newbie. He has had his fair share of experiences; before Lily, with Lily. He knew just about anything and everything. His good-boy act was no facade. At times he didn’t like that about himself, but it’s who he was. Obeyed the rules. Never crossed the line with anyone he wasn’t romantically linked to. And yet…

There you were.

The flowers were perfect; only needing to be watered. The cherry tree was much more…complicated. The chances of animals recklessly hunting for the sweet fruit was high, the chances of the red drupes rotting also was. Therefore, you spent most of your time there.

Maybe you were avoiding him; you told yourself you were already horrified at the dirty thoughts taking over like the plague. And perhaps he was doing the same; he had only been locked in his room for the past three hours.

Golden hour. With your hands on your hips, you squint, admire the polished drupes, tickling with water. Walking back to the bench, you lay down, picking up on your reading, occasionally taking sips from your Cherry Cola.

Pacing the small bedroom, Oscar mutters to himself. Maybe she didn’t read all of it. Maybe she doesn't know what it means. Yeah—he was exaggerating. Clicking his window open, he gasped for needed air. As soon as he spots you reading, he grunts.

White skirt brushes down your smooth legs, challenging the sun to see who shines the brightest. Lips wrap around the glass bottle, puckering in the slightest. And he wonders; would you taste as sweet as the cool beverage?

He’s a grown man; an adult. There’s no need to be uncomfortable. Sex was a part of everyone's day to day life. He was the one making it a bigger deal than it actually was. Still, he slips on a pair of sunglasses, perched perfectly onto the bridge of his nose.

“Is it any good?”

His voice makes you flinch, dropping the book flat on your face. A tiny groan rings through the air. Flashing him a weak smile, you sit up straight, fixing your clothes. “Want one? There’s plenty in the fridge.”

He had noticed, of course he had. Never in a million years did he think he'd see his refrigerator stocked up with the sweet drink. He never cared enough to ask who they belonged to; figured they would just expire.

Wavy hair swings back and forth when he shakes his head. “Gotta keep in shape.” I see, you murmur, loopy eyes peeking over at him, taking another gulp. The sizzling feeling is utterly childish compared to what he’s making you feel. The burning sensation between your legs is annoying and painful, you almost want to plead for help. “I meant the book, by the way.”

“No!” You laugh, nervously. “I mean…it’s alright?”

After he stormed off and left you a breathless puddle, you biked and biked—until you hit the local bookstore. You weren’t looking for anything in particular, simply browsing, but as soon as you reached the section of Erotic Literature, you stopped.

So many—many—wrong choices. Still, humiliated, you paid and fiercely ran out. Maybe this was some sort of punishment for reading what you’re reading; had to be. And Oscar asking questions wasn’t helping. Licking your berry lips, you swallow a thick layer. “What have you been up to?”

Fuck, he moans, large hand sliding up and down his cock; more and more pleasure intensifying. Your tiny dresses. Your short skirts. Your angelic face. The way your lips would separate before every sentence. Your sweet scent that would have normally given him a headache, but instead made him chase after you like a dog.

Finishing all over his thighs, he shudders. White liquid never looked more sinister than at this very moment. After changing, he paces the room with regret.

Pushing the frames further into his face, he hums. “Oh, you know. Just… cleaning up my room.”

It’s been a week in a half now and you’re happy to announce that you have fallen into a routine. While Oscar did his daily workout, you would make breakfast. While you worked on the garden, he cooked dinner. Though, he was unbeknownst over the way you would drool over him when he would walk out the door; a compressed shirt hugging his built body tightly, arms begging to be kissed. You were unaware of the way he would rub his face in desperation when you walked out, banging his head purposefully against the cabinet; the way you would skip out with your book and infamous drink, or how you would prettily tie up your hair before you even got started.

It was a mess.

A mocking mess.

This afternoon though, you aren’t flying out the door to the yard, but rather frolicking over to Ms. Alleck, ready to assist. I try my best, but they always wilt! Could it be the humidity? Laughing, you toss your hair up into a bun, messy strands poking out as you cock your head to the side. “Could be, but don’t you worry. We’ll find a way to make it work. Promise.”

He had always known you were kind, gentle, soft spoken…pure. And you doing this only added to his attraction. It’s salad, spaghetti, and salmon that afternoon. Sweaty, you pant. I’m going to squeeze in a shower real quick. But you weren’t sweaty, like you believe; you were glistening.

“This is so cute,” you chirp, sitting cross cross in the old treehouse. A few spider webs make your blood run cold, but he quickly took care of it, apologizing. The brunette blushes.

“I wanted to use it one last time. Before we get rid of it.” Neat brows furrow. “It’s just that it’s old—only a matter of time before it plunges down.” “What?”

“O-obviously not now!”

After a bit more convincing, you finally relax and enjoy the way the crickets sing against the night. Small feet press against the wall, white tube socks turning slightly brown from the lack of sweeping. For a moment, he shuts his lids, breaths shallow, body loose. The high temperature almost made him feel as if he was cuddling into the warmest blanket; it felt nice.

Whoops, you mumble when hollow glass pounds against the wooden floor. He perks up at the sound, brown eyes burning with high alert. “You do shit on purpose?” he screeches when he detects scarlet blood. Wincing in pain, you curl your hand towards the hem of your dress.

“Help me,” you plead, slight annoyance written all over your face. He must’ve broken the world record of running into the house to retreat the first aid kit, and running right back to you. The way he sanitizes the skin, to the way he wraps your hand with a gauze pad, is honestly hilarious.

“What so funny?” he murmurs, attention never leaving the wound.

“Mmm. Nothing.” He snickers and you giggle harder. “It just seems as if I’m making you a professional. You ought to be ready if anyone else needs your help to treat injuries.”

“Oh, of course. I’ll tell them a certain klutz made me learn from day to night with all her clumsiness.” His voice drops, laced with concern. “Seriously though—you were just healing. You have to be careful.”

Plump lips part with the sound of his delicate voice, accent almost disappearing. Wandering eyes admire the way his brows are knitted together and orbs soften. Swallowing, you nod. “I will.”

“Good.”

The once vibrant room is now hazy and suffocating. Does he not know what kind of effect he has on you? The type of power he holds? Oscar doesn’t seem to, though, with the way he chugs down his entire glass of water. Stuck in a trance, your hand briskly reaches out for your own drink. He roars with laughter, clutching his stomach. “You just broke your bottle, you don’t have a drink anymore.” He picked up the Cherry Cola you had offered, but he had declined. “Take mine.”

You don’t put up a fight, simply allow him to open and give it to you. The sweet drink doesn’t do a great job at hydrating your foaming mouth, but it helps as a distraction. On the other hand, the brunette can’t seem to not watch the ways your lips suck in and out, eagerly. As if this were the only source of air. He shudders.

“We should probably head down…”

Wiping your lips with the back of your hand, you comply, already standing up. From the floor, he has a good view of your legs; long, soft, sweetly scented. He wonders if you use honey as lotion because that would explain his urge to nuzzle his face against them. Picking up the broken glass and plates, you turn back. “Coming?”

A sigh rings through the air once, and suddenly—he’s cradling your face with high intensity and lust, molding his lips against yours. Tomato sauce stains his shirt and your dress from the plates that still remain between you two. One second, you're wide eyed, and then the next, you're allowing yourself to kiss him back.

You want to cry with how pleasant the feeling feels and he wants to scream with how much he wants to fuck you. But alas, one of you pulls away first—you can’t really tell who— and you’re both left gasping for air. Completely winded and fucked.

You both are fucked.

The treehouse comes crashing down the day after your first kiss. Yes, first kiss. You would like to blame him and say that he stole it from you, but the arousal that was dripping between your thighs last night was a clear indication that you could never actually say so because you liked it so much.

The wooden house tearing down is something you take as a sign; you’ve sinned. Okay, maybe that was a bit too dramatic, but you were honestly thinking about it. That night you dreamt of the wildest things imaginable; his pretty face in between your legs, large hands squeezing your perky breasts, fingers swirling inside your velvety walls, cock tearing you in half.

It was unacceptable.

So, while Oscar worked on picking up the tiles with a hometown buddy, you marched right over to beg for forgiveness. Kneeling down against the cushion, you say a silent prayer.

I don’t want to think like this—not when I know I can help it, but God this is getting way too out of hand. And you know I’m not like this, you know that! But he just—AGH. Maybe it’s his personality that makes him so attractive, or maybe it’s his sudden growth spurt, but please let me get a hold of myself. He’s just a friend, he’s just a friend—HE’S JUST A FRIEND.

“Would you mind keeping your words to yourself, sweetheart?” an older lady whispers, two rows ahead of you.

Pink feathers onto your cheeks. “Oh, yes, of course! I’m so sorry…”

I don’t ever ask for much, no, that’s never been necessary, but I am now. So please. Hear me when I say: Push this desire I have, far, far, far away.

If you were to say, there was a ninety percent chance that you would walk away. Not even spare him a passing glance. He would call you out on it later, but whatever—too late. Ignored you, you say? No, really I did? I had no idea, I’ll make sure to not let it happen again!

If Oscar were to say, there was a ninety-nine percent chance that he would let you walk away. He didn’t need your company; he was doing just fine. But then again, that one percent tugs at him like the devil on his shoulder.

“Hey. You’re back.” Cool. Calm. Collected.

“Oh! I suppose I am.” Cool. Utter. Mess.

He grins, eyes crinkling like the leaves that hang upon the crimson tree. Signaling up, he cocks his head in deep thought. “Just finished. Cole said his uncle could shred…” A pause. “He owns a massive wood chipper.”

Blinking like a deer in headlights, you chew on your bottom lip, simply nodding along. “Sounds good? I think. No. Yes. Very good.” You wince at all the uncontrolled mumbo-jumbo. “I’m sorry I was no help, too. I had to…talk to the man up above.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. That must be why your pretty little knees are bruised.”

Your breath comes to a harsh halt, ears burning like a wildfire. The Australian just keeps his brown eyes set on the tree for a second longer before turning to face you. Quickly, you relax your muscles. “You could make up for it by helping me with something else.”

You gulp. Suddenly, your mouth is overflowing with hot saliva. “With what?”

Dark orbs glue onto your delicate figure, a slight smirk playing out. And it looks so unfamiliar, not his own, that you create a distance. And just like that, it’s gone. Vanished just as fast as it slipped onto his pink lips. “Get on.” He crouches down and your jaw drops.

“Wha—like onto your shoulders?” Rolling his eyes in a goofy manner, he nods, picks you up safely, and places you on top. You screech, dizzy by the sudden altitude. “Put me down!”

“You’re fine. Just help me reach those. Been craving them all day,” he murmurs, voice raspy. The twenty-three year old is still slightly sweaty from his hard labor, and that’s clear when you cling onto his brown locks. Other than that, you’re as high as a kite; both figuratively and literally.

You’ve known—seen—how tall and broad the Australian was, but being perched onto his wide shoulders was a sweet confirmation you couldn’t help but enjoy. “Move a bit forward.” He follows instructions, wide hands gripping onto your thighs to keep you steady. You giggle when a few fruits hit your face. “Watch it—and don’t you dare drop me.”

“Get,” he commands.

About three minutes pass by. You rip the cherries carefully, candy aroma filling the air, and plop them onto the basket. By all accounts, you’re well aware of your actions. The basket was full, now overflowing, really, and you could plant your ballet flats back onto the tall grass—but you don’t.

There’s something about feeling his touch; high electricity, shock waves nipping at your skin, soft pants. It’s pathetic how much you crave any ounce of physical touch he’s willing to give you, unknowingly.

“That should be good,” you whisper, meekly. He doesn’t respond, just swings you down as you let out a yelp. All of a sudden, you’re magically magnetic. And he wonders; if only. You hand the basket over, waiting nervously for him to thank you, at least.

“Thank you,” he feels himself saying. “What do you say we play a little game? No prize. Only bragging rights.”

“O-okay.”

A singular cherry is handed over. He grins. Can you tie a knot using your tongue? “Wait—are you being serious?”

The red fruit dissolves inside his mouth, spitting the seed somewhere far enough away. Then, the stem flips into his mouth. “Come on. I’ll give you a head start.”

With wary hands, you rip the stem away from your own drupe, fitting the thin stick into your suddenly dry mouth. He stares intently, clenching his jaw, “Go on. Ten seconds.” Quickly, your lips start to move, twisting and turning. Pouting, then sucking back in. Your low breaths become heavy after a few tries. You think you’re getting it done right, the sudden ball forming is enough for you to guess that you must be doing something correct.

The sound of his low mewls is what ends you. Doe eyes flicker up to face him, paying close attention to how his brown eyes wander up at the sky in concentration, occasionally squinting due to the bright sun. You can feel a thin layer of sweat hug you like a blanket as your movements slow down; a snail's pace compared to before.

For good measure, you fake your twists as you continue to simply admire. Too far gone, you blink hastily when he sticks his pink tongue out towards you, a stinking knot sitting nicely atop.

“I won.”

Gulp. “You sure did. Good job, Oscar.”

Long lashes flutter shut momentarily, head tossed back, sighing. “It wasn’t a fair fight. You weren’t doing anything. Other than staring at my lips.”

Flustered, you dig your hand into the bucket. “That’s not true! At all. At all, at all.” You munch harder, splitting a seed in half. You spit it out sourly. “You're just better at using your mouth than I am.”

It goes straight to his cock, your words. Opening his eyes, the brunette scrunches his nose. You’re avoiding his gaze. You’re good at doing that. A pro. But it leaves him to wonder some more. And that itself was dangerous when it dawned on him.

He doesn’t like daydreaming anymore.

“Fuck it,” he grunts, kissing you harshly, like the night before. And you thought that blew your mind, but this? This left you gasping and reaching out for him even though he was pressed right against you. You could feel him buzzing, pinching your hips against his large hands. It’s perfect.

You don’t really understand how you end up straddling him on the grass, green straining your knees as you grind harder onto him, forcing your skin to burn with each stroke. This—this—must be as good as it gets. There can’t be more, but you weren’t complaining. It was enough.

When his fingers dance underneath your dress, you halt, and everything comes crashing down. “No,” you pant. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Why is that, baby?” he mumbles, lost on sucking the side of your neck. Looking up, his straight brows drew in together with concern. “What is it?”

“It’s just that…I’m—” Why is it so hard to admit? Brushing a strand of hair away, you purse your lips. “I’m a virgin, Oscar. It’s odd, I know, but I can’t sleep with you.”

“You think I didn’t know that?’

You freeze. “What?”

His thumbs circle your thighs, gently, swooning with how soft you feel. “I figured you were. Your purity ring sort of gave it away.” You blush hard, rolling off of him, playing with the thin band.

“I wish I could do this—God, I really want to—but I can’t.”

Respecting your decision, he pats your hand with reassurance. The hot feeling remained between your legs and the pain between his. This was torture, you both know that, but what was there to do? It’s awkward for a while, that is, until he starts asking you about things that shouldn’t make you glow with happiness.

How was your day? I want to hear all about it. Do you think it’s bad to eat an entire bucket of drupes? Must be, right? In the long run? Hey, would you mind teaching me how to garden? You make it look intriguing.

That seems to do it for you. Everything you ever promised flies out the window as you climb back onto his thick lap, and this time, he’s surprised by your actions. Clumsy fingers try their best to unzip his pants, but he only stutters against your kisses. N-no, we don’t have to rush anything. I, you, we—

“Shit, o-okay,” he sighs when you finally touch him, even in the slightest. He may be touch deprived, but so were you, so how far would any of this go? Flipping you over to lay against the tall grass, he winks teasingly and that effectively makes your heartbeat quicken. “Relax, sweetheart. Do that for me, yeah? Can you?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes.”

The McLaren drivers press a kiss on the inside of your thighs before licking them. You shiver, though try your best to even your breaths. You shut your eyes, maybe if you act hard enough, you could somehow convince yourself that this wasn’t a war itself. To see how long you’d last. No—you would last. You had to.

“I’ve thought about it.” He slips your panties down, inch by inch. “A lot, as of lately. If you would taste just as sweet as I imagined. As sweet as those Cherry Cola’s you're overly obsessed with.” And he dives in, licking your arousal clean as you pant, chest heaving up and down like an erupting volcano.

What were you supposed to feel—relaxed? In a frenzy? Most likely the latter because considering the way he was making your head spin said it all. The sounds he’s making forces you to involuntarily shut your legs around his face and his hand that now lies between you two. The stretch is a burning sensation that leaves you both gasping and moaning; it’s too much, but not enough.

More. Grinning up from in between your legs, he shakes his head full of curls, all thanks to the Aussie weather, and your dirty foreplay. “Does it feel good?” You whimper. “Good—good, baby. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Velvet walls clench around his long digits. “Hey, hey, look at me.”

Once your soft orbs connect to his intoxicating ones, his cock grows harder. “Okay, listen, it’s going to hurt a little bit, okay? But that’s completely normal; it’s like a…a stingy feeling. Do you understand?” I do, you pant. He grits his teeth when his calloused fingers brush against your g-spot and your head lolls back, exposing your sharp clavicle. He itches to mark you all over. “Do you want it, then?”

A zing. “Fuck, Oscar. I fucking want you.”

The brown eyed boy is all over you, kissing you up and down, gripping you tighter. It was an addiction in its truest form. For a split second, you frown when he slips out of you, but as soon as he starts unzipping his pants, you feverishly lick your lips.

It dawns on you that you aren’t scared, nervous, or anything; you’re bubbling with excitement. You watch carefully as he jerks himself off a bit, his already large girth growing bigger. How is that possible? “I’ll start with the tip.” Leaning down, he pecks your pouty lips and you smile. “Let me know if it’s too much, we’ll stop and take a break. Or do anything, really,” he adds, cheekbones flushing red.

“I’ll be okay,” you whisper. “I swear.”

You were being skinned alive, it was excruciating pain. You know he notices it when he starts brushing your hips, hoping to comfort you in some sort of way. Heavy breaths, numb lips from biting too hard, exposed breasts arching straight for him. He didn’t know whether to enjoy this or worry.

“Breathe, darling, breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. There you go,” he congratulates, admiring your shaky breath. “You’re doing so good.”

“Osc, move…please.”

There was no more confirmation necessary that you were ready to go. His hips find motion, thrusting into you slowly. Nails scratch down his back as you moan loudly, almost yelping. “Y-you’re so big.” So, so, so, so big. “So good.”

Nearly animalistic, he releases a grunt, pounding deeper into you, getting lost with the way you hug him tightly. You mewl, pressing your naked chest against his, and he nearly slips from his hands being set on top of the cold grass, but it was beautiful torture, all at once.

From the way you tremble, to the way you look up at him, he loves it all. He realized it been too long, he’s missed this, he’s missed having a body undeaneath his, as fucked up as that sounds.

And he—he must be a saint, himself. There’s a sort of invisible halo that lightens up around him, nearly blinding you. There’s a gut-wrenching stare he’s gifting you, making your stomach churn with pleasure.

Wrapping his mouth around your sore buds, you let out a shaky sigh. Skillful tongue swirls the way one would suck on a lollipop; the heat intensifies. “Close?” But you’re not sure, you just know it feels good—ridiculously good. He must have known so, and must want to make your first experience the best you’ll ever have, because suddenly, you’re on all fours.

As he slips in and out with such ease, you grip harshly at the tall grass. You can hear the sad rips with every thrust and every tug, but how can you feel bad when he feels so good? His cock rapidly brushes the magic spot, and you’re left seeing stars. “Oh God. I feel it, Oscar, fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“Tell me. Describe it.”

Your jaw locks, and your arms give up, flying down towards the grass, round ass high up in the air as he continues his movements. He groans at the sight, slapping your sweaty skin. Whining, you look back at him, grinning from ear to ear. The Australian looks up at the open sky, trying his best to push back the feeling of his upcoming orgasm, but it's hard to ignore the fact that an absolute angel takes him like no other.

And an Angel you were.

“Can feel your cock, Oscar. The way it pulses—so thick, so veiny, so sweet.”

An Angel with a vocabulary of Heathen.

“God, fuck me harder, please, Oscar, please.” He’s pretty sure you’re half-gone, half-present, but it only adds to the lust he carries for you. Just then, you feel the fresh cherry pressed up against your lips. Open, he demands and you follow straight away, ripping it from its stem. You nearly choke on the seed when he suddenly speeds up, limbs and arms burning from holding upright. For a moment, you stare back with an open mouth, admiring over the way his abs contract with every brutal push.

“Now spit.” Two seeds fly out towards the grass, laying there to taunt you as you pick up on your moans, ringing through the air. If you squint hard enough, you can spot the stars that mock the daylight sky. It doesn’t make sense, but then again, none of this does. “So pretty, sweetheart.” You swoon, feeling his arms hold you down. “Again—open.”

You’re expecting another set of cherries, thinking this might be some sort of prize, but as soon as you feel the familiar stick, you pout. No, you cry out. He chuckles. “Yes.” A pause. “You only get to come until you tie a knot.”

“You’re not being f-fair, holy shit.” Long fingers rub slowly against your puffy clit, throbbing with pain, begging to come all of his numbing girth. You clench your jaw, eyes screwed shut.

“We don’t have all night, go on. Move that pretty little mouth of yours.”

It’s a mission, it’s a task, it’s a fucking wreck. It’s impossible. You’re not that surprised, though, not when he thrusts into with twice as much force, triple speed; what a man. Loose tongue swirls at a weak attempt, but then he pinches your swollen bud, and you’re back to square one. You’re nearly there, excited to prove to him how much you wanted this and how you were able to multitask, but then he’s pulling all the way back, only his rosy tip awaiting by your entrance, and he’s coming back down, full-throttle.

It was cruel.

But two can play that game, you suppose.

You pull away quickly, he blinks, and then you’re pushing him back, sprawled on the grass. He nearly whines from missing your warm cunt, but as soon as you climb to sit on his face, he grows more and more turned on. “Go on,” you push. “Use that pretty little tongue of yours.”

Dark eyes stare up at you, enjoying the way your body moves, hips rolling, riding his face at an impressive rate. The white nectar you're willing to spill out makes him lap at an embarrassing speed, desperate to taste the sweetness.

Meanwhile, you’re gripping his hair, trying to feign indifference with the way his nose rubs against your lips, the way he keeps you in place with his watch covered hand, the other playing with your clit. It’s even, this is fair, but you still needed to reach your end.

“I’m close,” you moan, head rolling back, but jaw continuing to tick. He hums and the vibrations cause you to squeeze your legs around his face. That seems to make him enjoy this far more. Unless you show me you’ve done it, then no, you’re not coming anytime soon. Your molars grind harder, white spots forming throughout your vision. “Shut up, just—fucking stop talking.”

“What do y’know? Miss Perfection has a potty mouth.” He pokes his tongue against your hole. “Dirty girl, eh?”

With one final suck, and one soft moan, you cum all over him. The Australian is quick to lick you clean, groaning pathetically deep. Gasping, you fall from your climax, slightly twitching with sensibility as he hauls you onto his lap. You giggle when he raises a teasing brow.

“You got away with it—this time.”

“There’s going to be a second time?”

He stiffens, trying to play it cool. “Well, not anymore, you didn’t do what I asked for you to do—”

Opening your mouth, you stick your red tongue out, displaying the most perfect knot. He gapes, sticking his fingers in to retrieve it. “H-how?” A beat, sharp and accusing eyes. “Seriously, how?”

“Does it matter?” you ask, wide eyes back on for show. “I did it.”

“I…yeah, yeah you did,” he repeats in disbelief. He laughs. “You’re wickedly talented. That's an art.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, slowly, mixed with a giggle. “I tried my best for you.”

“I see that.” The brown eyed boy pinches your hip. “How was it?”

Sighing dreamily, as if napping on a cloud, your eyes twinkle. “I get it now. Why people have casual sex, I mean. It was amazing. Thank you.”

Casual, casual, casual, yes. Of course this was casual, why wouldn’t it be casual? He’s not looking to have anyone new in his life, and you’re barely understanding what any of this is, so yeah. Casual.

“Was I bad?” you ponder, chewing on your bottom lip. “I know I’m no professional, but I—”

“You were perfect,” he reassures with a soft smile. “Best thing to come around, solemnly swear.” Swatting his arm, he snickers, catching your hand. You purse your lips. “I was right,” he murmurs when his lips graze over your own. You open your mouth, waiting for more.

“About?”

“You tasting as sweet as a Cherry Cola.” Then he connects your lips, and you’re left utterly smitten. You can hardly feel him slip your ring off, but you know so when your finger feels empty since the moment you first put it on. “Guess you won’t be needing this anymore?”

“Guess not, no. Keep it.”

“Could take it to a Pawn Shop, sell it for a couple dollars…”

“Hey! Be nice, you dimwit,” you warn. “You should feel special. Stupidly special.”

“I’m kidding. I’ll cherish it.”

“Creep.”

He groans, slapping your ass as you squeal. “There’s no right or wrong answer, it seems like. Very well, let's just leave it at thanks. So…thank you for trusting me.” You blush, looking away. Awkwardly, you reach for your dress, slipping it over your head. He coughs, dressing himself before choking back a much needed chuckle. “Looks like we got dragged through the mud.”

“Ah, ew, I can’t. I need to shower.”

Reaching your end of the hallway, you press your back up against the wooden door as you sheepishly giggle when Oscar does the same. “Okay then…see you around?”

“Around town?”

“Around the house.”

“In the garden?”

“In the attic, too, maybe. It still needs a good sweep.”

He rolls his eyes. “Do we still have time?”

“Before your parents get back from Costa Rica?”

“Yes.”

“Which is in—”

“A week.”

“Which is—”

“Seven days.”

“And roughly…”

“Enough time.”

“Enough time to do what?”

He laughs, eyes crinkling suggestively, and your heart pounds hard against your ribcage. “Come here and I’ll show you.”

“Yeah,” you ponder in deep thought before your lips stretch out into a bright smile of your own. He raises dark brows as you scurry over with bruised knees, a muddy dress, and an exploding heart. “Yeah, okay. Just until they get back.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

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tims-missing-spleen · 8 months ago

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(I like to think that) Lex Luthor gets clowned on by literally everyone, and Bruce is the absolute worst.

Like he'll attend an event and a literal millisecond later, Bruce will roll up and steal all the attention. And when they're inside, him or one of his crazy "children" will "accidentally" spill very red wine all over his expensive ass suit.

And what can Lex even do?

Last time he retaliated and mildly shoved Bruce, the man very dramatically flung himself across the room and fell straight into a table. He hadn't even gotten hurt- not a single bruise or cut- but that drama queen didn't appear in public for an entire month after the incident. The backlash Lex had gotten was so not worth it.

And it doesn't stop there. His kids join in on the "fun" and bully him too.

Tim permanently bans him from all the platforms owned by Wayne enterprisese, which is like borderline illegal, so Lex sues and somehow always loses.

Jason Duke and Steph team up and make it a game to throw things on his head without him realising. And when Luthor catches one of them, he can't even shout at them or whatnot cause hes actually scared shitless. Jason, the absolute tank of a man, just grins at him while placing his hands on the very noticeable gun at his hip. Duke and Steph stand on either side of him, gripping literal knives in their hands.

Damian just outright walks up to him and begins insulting him in a couple of different languages. He always gives Lex a final disgusted look before turning and walking off.

Dick might seem the sweetest, approaching him while smiling in that nice way of his. He's the worst, though, cause he always makes sure to bring a few reporters with him before he innocently starts outing Lex's latest evil scheme in front of the audience. He makes sure to bring solid evidence of the nefarious plans, but right at the end, he goes, "idk I could be wrong," before shrugging and walling off.

Cassandra doesn't do much, but she's definitely the scariest. Whenever Lex has had enough and is about to call a hit on Bruce, she appears out of nowhere, stares straight at him, and just shakes her head while saying, "No. Regret"

Basically, Lex Luthor, public enemy #1, gets (justifiably) bullied by the entirety of the human population (honestly, only the Waynes).

#thank you for coming to my ted talk #dc comics #batfam #batfam incorrect quotes #dick grayson #lex luthor #bruce wayne #damian wayne #duke thomas #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #batman

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sincerelyneo · 1 month ago

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juno | l.hc

“one of me is cute, but two though…?”

💿now playing: juno by sabrina carpenter

❯ summary: Kids were never really something you thought about. But then you saw your sexy as fuck boyfriend playing uncle and now you can't stop thinking about giving him a baby of his own. What can you say...your hormones are high.

❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader

❯ genre: smut, established relationship

❯ words: 2.7k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, unprotected sex (don't do this!), swearing, breeding and pregnancy kink, possessiveness, dirty talk, begging, praise, creampie, slight angst not really idk, fluff, reader uses she/her pronouns, literally just the reader getting baby fever from seeing hyuck with kids (very real el oh el.)

an: i know this is like my third haechan post in a week, but i literally don’t care. sue me x

You didn’t want kids. Well, that’s not true. You were indifferent to kids.

That was until you saw your boyfriend with them. You didn’t think you could be more attracted to him, but then he had to go and check off the "great with kids" box. Maybe it’s just his playful side, but Lee Donghyuck is just so good with them.

And being forced to attend his niece’s first birthday party made you realise it. Honestly, you’d never given much thought to the idea of kids—cute yes, ready to give up endless nights of sleep, no.

But the minute after you walked through his childhood family home and were done greeting his parents and siblings, a swarm of kids ran at him, hugging his legs and stomach. And he just melted into them, so gentle and excited. It was cute and made you smile.

From then it was him letting his oldest niece cover his tanned cheeks in blush and stickers, to tossing a ball with his nephew after he announced he made the basketball team—and don’t even get started on him poking the chubby cheeks of his youngest niece, her soft giggles filling the backyard of the party.

It was like he was in his element—soft, loving, and completely at ease. And even though his nieces and nephews had other uncles and aunts, they’d always say Uncle Hyuck was their favourite—even if they weren’t supposed to.

You watch him from the patio door in the kitchen, overhearing him tell his dad he’s “too young to be having the adult conversations,” which was really code for ‘let me play with the kids.’

Running around, telling jokes, creating games. It had your stomach turning and—were your heart strings being pulled? Seeing this absolute perfect man, so caring and playful, living just to make those little ones laugh and smile, had you seriously considering the sleepless nights that might come with having some of your own.

Wait.

“He’s good with them, huh?”

You jolt, turning to see Hyuck’s sister standing behind you.

“Uh... yeah, I guess so,” you shrug. She steps beside you, and the two of you stand there, watching your boyfriend bounce his niece in his arms, soothing her gently.

She giggles, and you glance over at Hyuck’s sister again. “What?”

“Nothing,” she shrugs. “Just... you’re looking at him like you’re ready to add to the Lee family name.”

You gasp. “I am not!”

She gives you a knowing look, and you bite your lip, eyes shifting back to Hyuck. This time, he’s handing his niece a sippy cup, tapping her nose. Your chest tightens.

“Okay... I suppose he is good with them.”

Hyuck’s sister nods, humming in agreement. “He always has been. With every younger sibling, every cousin—even when I had my first daughter, Hyuck was the most excited.”

He’s sitting on the grass now, all his nieces and nephews swarming him, tickling him. He’s being extra dramatic, letting the younger ones tug at his hair just to make them laugh. You stare, warmth and wholesomeness filling you.

“He’d make a great dad, Y/N.”

The statement is completely sobering.

“Uh,” you stammer, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it.”

That’s not entirely true. You had spoken about it—once. You’d told him it wasn’t something you had planned for but weren’t necessarily opposed to, and the conversation had never come up again.

Hyuck’s sister blinks at you, clearly confused. “That’s crazy. Hyuck’s always said he wants to be a dad.”

Clearly.

There’s no denying that. It’s so obvious—every second he’s cupping up the kids, tickling them, teasing them. He looks so profoundly happy, so perfect. And it suddenly clicks for you.

This could be yours. Forever. He wants it. And now... you’re starting to think you want it, too. Him, this, forever. His kids. Your kids.

“Y/N! Y/N!” one of the younger kids calls, waving you over from across the backyard. “Can you play with us? We need more people to play the monsters. Uncle Hyuckie can’t do it on his own.”

And just like that, you’re being pulled away from the baby fever conversation and coaxed into joining them—not that it took much convincing. Your thoughts were starting to scare you a little. You’d never seriously thought about kids—until now.

Because you’d never seen Hyuck look more attractive than when he was playing dad.

“I can’t believe she’s one already,” Hyuck beams from where he’s stretched out on your bed. He’s been talking about the party nonstop since you got home. “Did you see the little bows in her hair? So fucking cute.”

You glance at him through the vanity mirror where you’re sitting, watching the way his face lights up, animated and so full of joy. There’s a warmth in your eyes, your lips curved into a soft smile as you take him in. He notices, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s that look for?”

You stand and walk over to him, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. His eyebrows knit together, more confused now.

“Y/N, what’s going on?”

You smile, sidestepping his question with one of your own. “Did you have fun today?”

“Yess…?” he replies, but there’s a trace of suspicion in his voice.

“Your family’s really nice.”

“Oh, are they now?” He squints playfully. “I saw you talking to my sister. I hope she wasn’t embarrassing me—she loves doing that.”

You shake your head with a giggle. “She wasn’t.”

“Okay…” he draws out. “Then what was she saying?”

“That you’d be a good dad. That you want to be a dad.”

Hyuck’s eyes widen and you mentally add this moment to the short list of times your boyfriend has been rendered completely speechless—still countable on one hand.

He coughs, his cheeks turning pink. “S-She said that?”

You nod, biting your lip to keep from laughing.

“And…what did you say back?”

You spread his legs out on the bed so you can slide between them, sitting there and looking up at him as he waits, eager for your response. He’s so cute like this—adorable, even—clearly dying to hear what you thought.

“I didn’t respond,” you admit honestly.

You catch the flicker of hurt in his eyes, but he covers it with a laugh—though it’s not genuine. You can tell he’s trying to brush it off, trying to pretend that he’d be okay with the possibility that you might not want that kind of future with him.

“She shouldn’t have said that,” he mumbles, embarrassed. “I used to talk about it a lot as a kid. I don’t really think like that now. I can’t, you know… because of my job.”

“So you don’t want kids because of your job?” You ask. The tone in your voice takes him by surprise because now you’re the one sounding hurt.

“Baby... is this a trick question?” He laughs nervously.

You shake your head, crossing your arms across your chest. “No Hyuck. But I want you to answer it truthfully.”

He shrugs, looking unsure. “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.”

“You’re lying.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Baby, I don’t know what you want me to say—”

“The truth,” you insist.

He pauses, his gaze softening. “I love you, Y/N. You said kids weren’t really part of your plan, and that’s okay,” he begins, his voice steady but sincere. “And yeah, maybe I always kind of thought kids would be in mine, but then I met you. And you became my plan.”

You grab a hold of his hand and squeeze. It draws a genuine smile from him before he speaks again.

“I know we’ve never talked about it since. But I’m fine with anything—as long as it’s with you.”

You smile, his comment pulling at your heartstrings because you feel the exact same way.

“Those kids absolutely adore you, Hyuck,” you say and he gives a half smile.

“Well, I am their favourite Uncle.”

You trail a soft finger up and down the naked skin of his arm. His eyes follow your touch and that furrowed expression is on his face again.

“Y/N what’s going on with you? You’re confusing me—”

“You know—” you cut him off. “I think you’d be a great dad.”

He stares at you, properly taking you in. He’s never seen this side of you before, and you’ve never given him a compliment quite like that before. The thought of you being into the idea of him as a dad… well, he didn’t expect it to turn him on this much. Maybe it’s the way your fingers brush his arm? Yeah no, it’s not.

“Today made me realise something,” you say, shifting to straddle his hips, your arms wrapping around his neck now. He raises a curious brow, waiting. “You look so hot with kids. The thought of you being a dad is so fucking hot, Hyuck.”

Hyuck smiles at the confession, and his hands move to grip your ass as he ground your hips forward on himself. You let out a small gasp of surprise as you feel him.

“Please don’t joke like that, Y/N,” he whines, eyes squeezing shut. “Because I’ve been thinking about you being the mother of my kids since the day I met you.”

You giggle, biting your lip to stifle the soft moans escaping you as he grinds you slowly against his growing bulge.

“Well, why don’t you do something about it then,” you tease breathlessly, feeling the hardness of him through his sweatpants.

Hyuck’s mouth parts, caught somewhere between awe and shock, but before he can question how serious you are, your lips capture his, and your tongue is slipping inside his mouth to deepen the kiss.

The groan you both share is synchronised, and it’s all the encouragement he needs to flip you over, hovering above you with a renewed sense of urgency to make promise of your teasing.

His fingers hook into your panties, sliding them off as you shift upward against your pillows, tossing your nightgown aside. Hyuck strips out of his own clothes, desperate to press his bare skin against yours, his need overwhelming any sense of patience.

He kisses you back roughly, passionately. Fuelled by your impossible hotness and readiness to be fucked—fucked by him. Your tongue dips deeper and deeper into his mouth, never satisfied, craving more of him. You cling to him, your hands and legs moving over his skin, desperate to feel every inch. Your hips roll up, slickness coating his shaft, causing a rippling gasp to leave his mouth.

Hyuck pulls back with dark eyes. You—his girl—naked and desperate under him, begging him to do something about his baby fever—your baby fever. It’s the hottest shit he’s ever seen. His new favourite thing. His obsession. He loves seeing you like this, he decides—so willing, so desperate for him, for his cock. Needing him to bring you the pleasure only he can give. And he’ll make sure you remember that once you're carrying his child.

The image floods his mind—your stomach growing, swelling with his baby, the glow in your smile as you hold his child. A family, all with him. Only him. Because you want his kids.

The last thought pushes him over the edge, and with a low growl, he bites down on your neck, lips and teeth claiming your skin. He wants you marked by him—like always—but this time it’s different. It’s possessive. Primal. Feral. His saliva wet on your neck, dark bruises blooming over your breasts, his fingers burning prints into your hips, and his seed buried deep inside your soaking wet cunt.

His cock jumps when you roll your hips again, your whimpers causing him to groan and eyes roll back. You sound so desperate. Desperate to make him your forever.

“Hyuck—” you sob as his teeth graze your nipple, sending it hardening under his touch. “Please, I need to feel you.”

His eyes sparkle with lust as he drapes your legs over his waist and leans down, capturing your mouth in a long, needy kiss. He aligns himself with your slick pussy, your fingers clawing at his back as he slowly eases into you. He fills you completely, lifting your hips to bury himself deeper.

“So fucking pretty like this,” he mumbles, pulling away to admire the way you take his thick cock. “Taking me so well, always so good for me, aren’t you, baby?”

You moan as his cock hits every spot inside you—so deep, so hard, so good. Each thrust drags along your walls in a way that feels divine.

“Can’t wait until you’re mine, so full of me,” he whispers, kissing your neck. You whimper, your walls clenching at his words, urging him to quicken his pace. “Do you want that, baby? Want my cum inside this pretty pussy?”

“Yes—fuck yes—please.”

“Say it for me,” he requests softly, a gentle yet desperate edge in his voice. “Please tell me.”

“I want to be yours; make me yours,” you breathe out.

Hyuck's gaze drops to your lips, entranced by the words spilling from them. He thrusts harder, your nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer. Your cunt swallows his cock whole, turning his thrusts sloppy, and he groans.

You’re practically sobbing with how fast he’s driving into you, so close to seeing stars.

“You’re so good at taking me,” he praises, his breath ragged. “Gonna make me fill you.”

You squeeze around him, and the thought of cumming inside you sends a shiver through his thighs, making his breathing stutter.

“Yes! Fuck, please keep going,” You pant.

“Want you so full of me that it’s dripping down your leg. And then I’ll push it back in when I fuck you again.”

Your breaths grow louder and quicker, matching his as you both teeter on the edge. He kisses you deeply, your mouths suffocating each other as you grip his soft brown hair. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you tight.

“Hyuck—I’m gonna cum.”

“So fucking good, baby,” he moans in awe. “I’m going to fill you with my cum. I want you overflowing with my seed—fuck!” He grunts hoarsely, his body tightening with tension.

Your walls shatter around him, tightening and fluttering on his cock as you cum. Hyuck holds you close, so intimately, holding himself deep inside you as he feels the first spurts of his cum shooting from his cock.

He doesn’t stop, his hips still moving gently, making sure you take everything, softening each thrust with tender kisses along your bare shoulders. You sigh dreamily, fingers threading through his hair, and he smiles, still half-hard inside you. You’re exhausted, and the sight of your sleepy expression makes his heart twist. Leaning down, he presses a soft kiss to your lips, and for a moment, you stay like that—so close, so intimate.

But as the post-orgasm bliss begins to fade, a flicker of panic flashes in his eyes.

“Fuck—” he mutters, pulling himself off of you quickly. There’s a gnawing feeling in his chest, a sudden guilt. “Y/N, I’m really sorry, I got caught up in the moment. Do you want me to run to the store—”

“No.” You shake your head and grab his arm, keeping him close. “I don’t want you to. If that’s okay…”

His eyes darken with lust before a slow smile spreads across his face.

“Y-yeah… that’s more than okay with me,” he says, nodding eagerly.

“Who knows?” You shrug with a teasing grin. “I might not even get pregnant this time.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “This time?”

You nod confidently. “Yeah, this time. Because we’re going to keep doing this until I am pregnant, Hyuck.”

His grin widens as he climbs back into bed, pulling you into his arms.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that, especially not when I woke up this morning,” he laughs, pressing soft kisses along your neck.

You giggle, leaning into his touch. “What can I say? Seeing you in dad mode made me so fucking horny.”

#nct smut #haechan smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #haechan x reader #nct dream x reader #nct hard hours #kpop smut #kpop x reader #nct oneshot #nct scenarios

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totally-here · 3 months ago

Text

3 times Phantom's Guardian was Mentioned + 1 Time He Showed Up

One

Phantom’s introduction to Young Justice wasn’t as dramatic as Empress’ or Slobo’s, or even Arrowette’s first introduction to the cave. No, it wasn’t during the Olympics, or on a battlefield, and he didn’t come in injured and looking for help.

Impulse just brought Phantom in one day and insisted that he should join because he’s their age, interested in justice, and now that Greta’s human again they need another ghost member. So Phantom stayed, popping in and out for missions but never really sticking around all that long.

Today is one of the days that Phantom’s with them on a mission, that being looking around a lab of the Brain’s that had an energy surge recently, despite it being presumably abandoned.

Kon got paired up with Phantom to check the rest out first, since they both have better hearing than Anita and Tim, who were both still in the main room working on checking the computers for previous activity.

The room is dark except for the light green ball glowing slightly above Phantom’s hand. He waves it around enough for it to reflect off of glass, then throws it up to the ceiling. The light expands enough to illuminate the room.

Phantom mumbles about not knowing he could do that. Kon ignores him and moves closer to inspect the glass tubes to the side of several monitors set up.

“Looks like cloning equipment,” Phantom says, casually. He drags a finger through the dust gathering on one of the monitors. “Don’t think they’ve been activated recently, though, so that’s good.”

“What? You got a problem with clones or something?” It’s a quick and defensive answer, and Phantom puts his hands up in surrender.

“Not in concept.” He shrugs and joins Kon near the tubes. “But not a lot of people ask before making clones.”

“So I don’t need to sic Superman on you?” Obviously Kon could chew Phantom out himself, but few can do a “not mad, just disappointed” face better than Clark.

Phantom scrunches his face. “Why would you need to?”

Kon stops pretending to inspect the tube and stares at Phantom. “You do know I’m a clone, right?” The blank look on Phantom’s face tells him that no, he did not. “Well I am. Clone of Superman, though we’re pretty much brothers now.”

“Cool,” Phantom says, not a bit less friendly. He hesitates for a second before continuing, “Could I maybe ask you how you got there? Me and my clone have landed on cousins, but that was also, like, given to us by her evil dad. So.”

Phantom trails off. Huh, that makes three members of the team that have been cloned. Not a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened three times.

“You’re making sure she feels accepted, right?”

“Yeah! Well, whenever she’s around. She,” Phantom waves his hand around, looking for the right word, “She’s a wanderer. Exploring the world and stuff. But Richard has a room for her at home, and I remind her of that whenever she does stop by.”

“Well, first of all, don’t push it so hard,” Kon says. Phantom nods enthusiastically. “And second, who’s Richard?”

Kon doesn’t know a lot of Richards, and he doesn’t think that Phantom ever mentioned one before. Or even if he remembers his living life.

“Oh, he’s my, uh, guardian? I guess that’s the best term. The guy I’m living with who forces me to go to school sometimes.” Phantom looks away and back to the tubes.

Before Kon can ask for more details, Robin and Empress come in with a report of dead computers and wanting to know where they’re at with the cloning room.

They’re unimpressed with their lack of progress.

Two

Wally doesn’t really need to come by the Hamilton Lodge that often, not when that’s Young Justice’s territory and he doesn’t want to get involved in all of That.

But Red Tornado said that the team has a file on a planet that’s very quickly becoming a league problem, and he figured it might be a good time to try to check in with Bart, anyway. Make sure he hasn’t run any cars off cliffs again and all that.

So he stops by Manchester to ask Bart about the file, then they both head East to actually find it.

When they arrive at the hotel minutes later, Wally’s surprised to actually find it… clean? There’s no visible trash or overturned furniture or anything else he’d expect from an abandoned hotel filled with teenagers. Well, maybe not filled, lately. He doesn’t think anyone’s living here currently, with Greta at Elias’ for the school year and Slobo gone.

Still, the room smells slightly of artificial pine scent, and Bart perks up before disappearing and reappearing rapidly, holding a teammate up by his armpits. Said teammate just accepts this, his legs folding into a wispy tail, and head rolling against his shoulders.

“This is Phantom!” Bart holds him up higher. Phantom waves. Wally’s only heard of him through Max’s updates, the same way he would hear about Preston or Carol, but with more wariness about the supposed ghost.

Actually looking at the pale face and glowing green eyes contrasting against the darker than dark jumpsuit, Wally’s a little more ready to accept his claim at being undead.

“He stress cleans,” Bart explains, moving to carry Phantom under his arm. Wally bites down the urge to tell him to put him down, but only because Phantom doesn’t resist the hold, only moving to get into a more comfortable position. His hands are touching the floor. “So what happened?”

Bart directs the question downwards, and Phantom heaves a very dramatic sigh. Definitely a teenager. It does raise the question of who exactly this kid’s mentor is. Hopefully he does have one. Maybe he’s the Spectre’s kid?

Phantom phases through the arm holding him only to lay on top of Bart’s hair. “I accidentally called Richard dad. And then fled.”

Bart nods sagely. “Classic. One time I accidentally called Max dad, so I had to start a fire to distract him.”

Phantom sighs again, almost dreamily. “Genius.”

Wally doesn’t have time to unpack all of that. Well he does, but he’s not going to, because there’s really only one Richard that comes to mind that might have the heart to take in a dead kid, even if he doesn’t go by his full name.

But surely Dick would have told him, or any other Titan, if he had adopted a kid. Right?

But there’s still a little shadow of doubt. Maybe Dick wanted it to be a secret, or it was really new or had a rocky start. Phantom doesn’t seem to hold himself like a Bat, but it’s not a guarantee Dick would have trained him.

“The lodge looks nice,” Wally offers out loud, which Phantom shrugs at and wraps his tail around Bart’s head to keep secure. “Anyway, Impulse. The file on Myrg?”

“Oh yeah!” Again, Bart disappears then reappears a few seconds later with a paper file. They really need to start digitizing more of these things. “That’s the planet where we played baseball so that they wouldn’t destroy Earth!”

“You what.”

The prospect of Dick following in his dad’s footsteps is forgotten in the face of what the hell Young Justice got up to on Myrg.

Three

Tim may be in a…Predicament.

It’s not his fault. Really. He knew what he was doing. He couldn’t let a civilian fall for the trap. But they were already so close, so he just, kinda, pushed himself into the rope instead.

So there Robin is, tied upside down in a warehouse, with the Joker below next to an overly complicated control panel. The clown’s rambling about bombs hidden all over the city that Tim knows Batman is already tracking down with Batgirl.

Tim’s not really paying attention to the rant because of that, more focused on wiggling enough to get the spare mini-birdarang out of his glove to cut the rope without notifying the Joker.

“Yikes, bad time?” Asks Phantom’s voice beside him. Based on the source and accounting for the slight echo, he’s floating with his head near Tim’s, likely upside down. “Want some help?”

Tim gets the birdarang out and starts sawing at the thick rope. They should be fine anyway, but stalling the Joker for extra time would be helpful. “Can you possess the Joker? Just hold him still.”

“The correct term is overshadow, but sure.” The voice disappears, and a few seconds later the Joker freezes.

His body jerks forward, then backward, and a laugh chokes out of his throat. His hand claws over his mouth at the noise and he hunches over. All movement halts before he rights himself, shaking out his hands and rolling his shoulders. Phantom looks up at Tim and his eyes are glowing.

Tim cuts through the rope, kicking and using the momentum to right himself and land on his feet. He brushes past Phantom in Joker’s body to handle the control panel. He turns off the radio broadcast and dismantles the bomb strapped to the panel.

Threat handled, he turns to Phantom and holds up some handcuffs. “Let me arrest you?”

Phantom obliges, turning the Joker’s body around and putting his hands behind his back. Tim lets him walk by himself out of the warehouse and moves the handcuffs around a lamppost. The Joker’s body jerks again, then slumps forward, just as Phantom reappears next to him, scowling down at the unconscious body.

“That felt really slimy. Zero out of ten, would not do again,” Phantom grouches.

“Why’re you in Gotham?” Tim asks. It’s not like Phantom makes a habit of visiting. The last time he came into the city, he complained about feeling the dead under the streets. Fortunately, that let Tim uncover a few tunnels that Talons travel through. Phantom, however, was unnerved by the Talons and left quickly.

“Oh, Solomon Grundy’s back in our sewers. Richard said I should probably tell one of you Gotham heroes, since you keep track of those guys.” He shakes out his hands like they were cramped in the Joker.

They hadn’t seen Grundy in a while. Tim assumed he was currently in a less violent personality. “What’s he doing?”

Phantom shrugs. “Just chilling. Mostly underground. I tried to talk to him but he only grunted back at me. He also tried to pick me up, dunno what that was about.”

“Maybe because you’re both dead?” Tim guessed. That would be a surface level connection. Ivy and Woodrue have had more luck working with Grundy than anyone, and Phantom definitely doesn’t have the connection to the Green that’d help with that.

Police lights turn around the corner, and Tim shoots a grapple to get to the roof above them. Phantom follows, but disappears as soon as they’re on the roof. Going back home, probably.

Cass drops down from the roof she was listening on. “Richard?”

“Not the same one.”

They both stick around long enough to watch the Joker get put into the cop car.

Plus one

A spaceship landed in the forests of New York, and Cassie’s team was the first to respond to it. Technically not respond, but check it out, since there wasn’t any alert or anything.

Still, Wonder Girl has Empress, Robin, and Superboy on the other side of the ship, watching what looks like the back door, while she, Impulse, and Phantom watch the other door and main window. She has binoculars, but the windows are so tinted she can’t quite make anything out.

No aliens have come out yet, and she hesitates to have anyone go in, in case whoever inside does turn hostile.

Impulse has offered to run through a total of five times already, and it’s a testament to his restraint that he hasn’t, and a testament to Cassie’s that she hasn’t yelled at him yet. Phantom at least isn’t being annoying, but he’s not necessarily helpful, either. He’s not even watching the spaceship anymore. Now he’s trying to make a flower crown out of dandelions.

“Door’s opening on our side,” Robin says from the comms. “But no one’s coming out.”

“Alright, good enough to try to get in,” Cassie decides. She turns to Phantom, who’s closing off the circle of flowers. Beside him, Impulse has since pulled out a gameboy. “Phantom, go in invisibly through the open door and report back. Try to see what their plans are.”

“Oh, sure. One second.” Phantom finishes the crown and tries to put it on Bart’s head. It doesn’t quite fit over his mane of hair, but Phantom shrugs and leaves it sitting there anyway before going invisible.

“Maybe I should shave my head again,” Bart says as his game character dies.

He gets a resounding no in response.

Half an hour later they have a very annoyed Green Lantern lecturing them about league jurisdiction and knowing when to call someone else.

Apparently, the alien ship was just stopping to complete some maintenance, and did not appreciate any spying on them, and especially did not appreciate who did it. Green Lantern was more than happy to explain that Wonder Girl’s team is not really a part of the Justice League and he can help with their maintenance. They denied his help and left to find a place with less people in it.

“-and you!” Green Lantern rounds on Phantom next, but Cassie knows none of them are really listening. Sure, they messed up by freaking out the visiting aliens, and yeah maybe they should have contacted the league about it, but they’ve dealt with stuff worse than this! It’s not Cassie’s fault she thought that this would have stuck to the formula.

“Who even are you?” Green Lantern runs a hand through his black hair, stupid green gauntlets shining in the sunlight. “Do I need to call your mentor?” He frowns. “Or do they know you mess up alien technology by just being around it?”

Phantom scoffs and rolls his eyes. “How was I supposed to know their tech would go all fuzzy when I came in?”

“You wouldn’t have to know if you just stayed out of the spaceship!”

“Hey!” Cassie cuts in. “Technically that was my call. It’s not all on Phantom.”

“I still could've been more careful,” Phantom says to her, ignoring Green Lantern as they argue about blame.

“Cut it out for a second, okay?” Green Lantern puts a hand between them and they stop to glare at him. He pulls the hand back. “Look, can I just talk to one of your adults about this?”

Robin glares. “We don’t need an adult. We have this under control.”

“Only because I’m here now.”

“I’ll call my mentor,” Phantom says. Kon opens his mouth, most likely to offer to call Superman instead in hopes of a lighter sentence, but Bart covers his mouth, smiling like he knows something Cassie doesn’t. Tim and Anita share a look, and don’t intervene as Phantom pulls out a phone from his chest.

It rings once before it’s picked up. Cassie can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but Kon’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Hey, do you think you can pick me up? Green Lantern wants to talk to you.” Phantom looks Green Lantern up and down then says, “No, this one doesn’t have a cape.”

Phantom says goodbye after rattling off their coordinates, hangs up, and stares at Green Lantern in silence for a few seconds.

And then a swirling mass of black seeps into the space next to Phantom. The end of a cane steps out of it, followed by a leg, then the rest of the immaculately dressed man holding the handle of the cane that’s shaped like a bird’s head.

“Phantom,” The man says. His voice drips with condescension in only a way a british accent can, yet Phantom smiles up at him. The shadowy portal behind him disappears. “What, exactly, happened?”

“That’s the fucking Shade,” Anita hisses to Robin, who shrugs noncommittedly at her. Green Lantern seems to recognise him too, taking a step back and clenching his hand that holds his ring.

“Well, the team and I were staking out this spaceship–super cool, by the way–and I went inside to check it out, but my presence messed with their tech–which was an accident–and they freaked out, so I freaked out, and then we kinda got into a little fight until Green Lantern came to mediate.”

“Hm. Is that right?” The Shade asks Green Lantern, who nods slowly, still anticipating an attack. “It seems like the problem’s fixed, then.”

“Well, yes, but–”

“And it does seem about time for these kids to get home, doesn't it?” The Shade pulls out an actual pocket watch, chain and all, from his suit pocket and takes his time in checking it. “I’ll see them home.”

Shadows grow from behind the team, swirling until they become a giant, gaping maw that swallows them up and spits them out in a different forest, or maybe just a different part of the same forest.

Either way, Cassie has to take a moment to make sure she doesn’t throw up from the sudden vertigo the shadow portal caused.

The Shade looks at Phantom, and raises an eyebrow. “You can’t expect me to always bail you out.”

Phantom shrugs, looking guilty. “I know. Thanks, Richard.”

Oh, so that’s who Richard is. Annoyingly, neither Tim or Bart look surprised by this revelation.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #this post was brought to you by me recently finishing starman 1994 #which i totally recommend it was rlly good and im happy i was able to read the physical version because there are some double page spreads #that were beautiful and i just know the online ver would've butchered #this is also part of my put danny in opal agenda!!#come on guys!! partially if not all powered by cosmic energy #missing heroes other than like benetti and the shade as far as i know #and used to have a ghostly curse on it!!! perfect place #also it's no-pulse coded because im still rotating them in my head like a microwave #the gl is supposed to b Kyle but sry if he's off i only know him from his appearances in yj and hitman #and i tried to do a read more thingy because it got long i hope it works

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augustinewrites · 1 year ago

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“babe. baaaabe. babe!”

“what, satoru?” you ask sharply, looking up from your laptop to where your boyfriend has spread himself across your couch, his legs in shoko’s lap.

he lifts his shades to look at you. “was i your first crush?”

“yes,” you answer quickly.

you immediately return to the report you’re writing, missing the face shoko makes before she says, “that’s not true.”

“ieiri,” you whisper harshly, but it’s too late. your boyfriend’s already jumped off the couch to lean his palms against your desk.

“what? i wasn’t your first?!”

“you were,” you insist, glaring at your friend. “shoko is clearly misremembering things.”

“am i though?”

“you know what, it’s fine,” gojo sighs, slipping his shades back on and rolling the sleeve of his t-shirt up so he can flex. “obviously i’m way cooler than whatever lame schmuck high school you was crushing on.”

behind him, shoko’s scoff is the final nail in your coffin. “nanami is way cooler than you ever were.”

you slap your forehead, bracing yourself for gojo’s inevitable overreaction.

but he doesn’t get the chance, interrupted by a light knock against your doorframe from, you guessed it, nanami kento.

“yaga said you wanted to see me?”

cue overreaction.

“you had a crush on— on him?”

nanami swats gojo’s finger away from his cheek.

“oh my god,” your boyfriend breathes, currently experiencing a quarterlife crisis. “you liked this emo nemo?”

nanami ignores him, sending you a questioning look. “he doesn’t know?”

“what is it now?” satoru asks, slumping back into the couch. “did you guys go on a date or something?”

your lack of answer is enough for him to let his head fall back rather dramatically.

“can you blame her?” shoko asks. “he was sexy back then. in an edgy, mysterious kind of way. meanwhile, you were like…if a string bean made love to a cauliflower.”

even gojo doesn’t have a witty retort prepared for that.

you decide to clear this up once and for all. “it wasn’t just about looks. you were busy after— after riko. you didn’t have time for a relationship or…for me. you wanted to get stronger and i didn’t want to get in your way.”

“you wouldn’t have been—”

“i would have.” you shrug. because you know him, and you know what he was like. “and that’s okay because we were still kids, satoru. and it was only one date! no need to get so torn up about it!”

_____

“what is this?” you ask later that night, when you find satoru hauling a huge box into your apartment.

“it’s a bowflex!” gojo explains proudly, patting the unopened box. “shoko said that i was built like a string bean, so i’m gonna buff up like nanami! and when megumi moves out next year, i’m gonna turn his room into a gym.”

you lean in the doorway, amused. nanami also has a home gym. “is that why you’re also wearing a suit and tie instead of your usual uniform?”

he does a show spin, letting you take it all in. you don’t even want to know how much it must have cost. “do you like it?”

“you do look very handsome.”

“i know,” he winks, cocky as ever. “now watch this.”

he brushes a few strands of hair over his eyes, lowering his voice a few octaves as he says, “taxes. office work. satoru, i respect you so much!”

you walk up to him, brushing the hair back to press a kiss to his forehead. “nanami would never say that last thing, but i do like the effort.”

he loops his arms around your waist, returning the kiss and murmuring against your skin, “did it turn you on though? maybe i should get an office job—”

“satoru,” you whine, resting your forehead against his chest. “it was just a short-lived crush. and it was forever ago! i’m pretty sure you’ve had crushes that weren’t me.”

“nope,” he hums, resting his chin atop your head. “all i’ve ever wanted is you. all i’ve ever needed…is you.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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list4r · 4 months ago

Text

Deciding to have a family with you was the best thing Satoru ever done. At least that’s what he says every moment you two are alone.

The moment you came to him with that positive pregnancy test he did everything he could so he could be ready for when you brought that beautiful baby girl into the world. He signed you guys up for partnering classes, bought as many necessities as the nursery could fit, made sure to babyproof the house. He did everything he could to be ready. The only thing he wasn’t ready for though- his child growing up.

It was the classic night, his favourite kind of night. When the three of you are together at the dinner table. Satoru and your daughter were wearing matching hair clips as they sit at the table. Once food is served everything is well. Until your daughter speaks up.

“Papa are you gonna be sad when I grow up and leave you and mama?”

That causes Satoru to immediately choke on his food, turning to the five year old girl who was humming happily as she waits for his answer.

“What are you talking about sweetie, where’d that come from hm?” Satoru tries to keep the expression on his face neutral but you can tell he’s holding back.

“Well when I get older I will get married and have kids like mama and papa! Then I will move far away and you can’t visit, only mama can.”

That right there causes Satorus eye to twitch, gripping his fork before nodding and giving the girl a small smile. “I think you should just eat your dinner baby, it’s getting late.” In which she nods and continues to eat while rambling about what happened at school that day. Honestly you had to applaud Satoru for not freaking out then and there. It seemed like times were changing.

But you were wrong.

Now it was after dinner time and after you put your daughter down to sleep. And you thought that you would get a good nights sleep, but here you are… dealing with your husband.

“She hates me baby she hates me…” gojo muttered as he was sitting up while you were laying down. “I mean why would she even say that? That only you can visit her?” His hands are waving around dramatically. “Am I… I’m a bad father? That she’ll forget about me when she grows up…. Oh my god baby my heart- I think I might just die. Yep that’s it I’m gonna die and my own daughter probably won’t even care. I can’t believe I let her have candy when you say no and she said that. What’s the point of life anymore.”

“Satoru she’s literally five…. She doesn’t know what’s she’s saying. Go to bed.”

“How can I sleep when my precious little girl doesn’t even want me in her future life?”

“All kids say things they don’t mean. She’ll forget it about it in the morning. Just please… go to sleeep it’s late.”

Gojo sighs as he finally lays down. “Well I won’t forget.” A pause. “What do you have that I don’t? I think I’m a very fun guy.”

“Maybe she doesn’t like drama queens who don’t want to sleep.”

“If only she knew her mother was a rude woman, then she wouldn’t have said that.” Gojo huffs.

“Sleep.”

“Okayyyyy… good night.” He huffs and it’s like you can hear the pout on his face.

Let’s just say the both of them ended up forgetting the next morning anyway.

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clockwayswrites · 2 months ago

Text

A Bird and a Menace of Bats - Part 17

masterpost

“We could always look up where he lives,” Tim suggested.

Bruce gave his son a tired look, turning slowly that he was sure not to jostle the sleeping man on his shoulder. “No, we can’t.”

“Sure you can. WE has to have it on file.”

“That would be a gross misuse of my postilion and an invasion of privacy,” Bruce said. “As in something Danny could very well sue for as us taking him home has nothing to do with his work and why we would have his address on file.”

“What about his driver’s license?” Duke suggested.

“He doesn’t have one, or at least not on him,” Dick said. He had Danny’s jacket pulled open and was carefully feeling inside for pockets.

Next to him, Jason was going through the card pocket on the back of Danny’s cellphone case.

“He does have a rewards card for Lacey’s though, so good taste there.”

Bruce rubbed tiredly at his face. “Dick, stop looking for a wallet. Jason, put all the cards back where you found them, please, and no hacking the phone.”

“You’re no fun anymore,” Jason said in a mocking whine.

Stephanie stifled a snicker.

“Stephanie, stop stalking him on social media and Babara, stop using what she’s found to try and triangulate where he is from,” Bruce said.

“Jason’s right,” Stephanie said as she slumped dramatically back into the seat, “you’re no fun anymore.”

“Yes, how boring of me,” Bruce drawled, “not invading the privacy of a man so unwell that he fell asleep in a noisy limo full of near strangers.”

Cass leaned forward at that.

Bruce quickly shifted gears to try and reassure her. “He’ll be alright, Cass.”

“Breathing is shallow. Heart?”

Bruce nodded. “He said there was an accident when he was a child that affected his heart and pulse. It was very slow and weak early after he stood up from his seat and had to sit back down. But he also said that it wasn’t unexpected and that he’s been to his doctor recently.”

“He did take this week off.”

“Tim.”

“What?” Tim said defensively. “He befriended my sister, I had to check him out.”

At least that was a reasonable excuse in case Danny was hearing any of this.

“If he’s doing badly, he shouldn’t be home alone, right?” Stephanie asked far too innocently.

“Not that we even know where he lives without waking him. Shouldn’t we let him rest?” Tim added.

“I shall start to the Manor then,” Alfred said, bringing an abrupt end to the discussion so suddenly that was that.

For what felt like the millionth time that night, Bruce sighed heavily.

It rather said something about the family that they were both efficient and graceful in getting an unconscious body out of the car. Bruce, with Dick’s help, passed Danny to Jason who held him out of the way as the rest of the family climbed out. Bruce was surprised to have Danny passed to him the moment Jason was able, but Bruce was quickly distracted.

“Right?” Jason asked.

“Hn.”

“Hn? Hn what?” Steph asked, popping up at Bruce’s elbow.

“The guy’s too light,” Jason answered. “It’s like he’s got bird bones.”

Tim stifled a snicker. Bruce, once again, sighed.

“Tim, take Steph and go help Alfred make sure the room is ready,” Bruce instructed. “Dick, help wrangle. Cass, darling, go rest. Jason, manage the doors for me, please.”

There was a coarse of agreement and the children were off. Bruce and Jason followed more sedately to be gentle on Bruce’s sleeping cargo.

“Jokes aside, he’s too light,” Jason said, keeping his quiet words between them. “This might be more than just a weak pulse.”

What Jason didn’t say is that they knew it was more than just a weak pulse—or at least it had been that night. It was concerning to think what lingering effects the transformation might be having on Danny. Especially concerning because…

“Cass is already attached,” Jason said, as if finishing Bruce’s own thoughts.

“I know.”

“And now the others are curious. Well, more curious.”

“I don’t suppose I could pay you to keep them in line?”

Jason snorted. “Even you couldn’t afford that, old man.”

“I was afraid not,” Bruce said as he fought back a smile.

Despite Jason’s refusal, Bruce knew that his son would keep his eyes others. Jason wouldn’t likely stop them, but he would keep an eye on them. Danny was still enough of an unknown that Bruce couldn’t help but be wary of the man’s presence in the middle of the family.

At least the guest wing was on the other side of the Manor from the family wing. The spaced eased the anxiety, a little. Alfred was just finishing shoeing Stephanie and Tim from the guest room as they approached and Jason peeled off to take his leave with them. Bruce entered the room with Danny on his own.

And apparently it was going to stay that way as Alfred said, “I trust you to see our guest settled,” and closed the door.

Bruce resisted the urge to sigh one more time.

At least Alfred had already folded down the sheets.

Bruce laid Danny down and started with the dress shoes, mostly to delay having to decide just how much clothing was appropriate to strip a near stranger of. After all, Danny didn’t know that he had slept curled up with the whole family once before. Bruce was also aware that he had less propriety than most people, given his unusual night life.

By the time the shoes were off and set aside, Bruce decided that the bare minimum would likely be most comfortable for Danny in the morning. The tie and belt went onto the seat of the nearby arm chair while the suit jacket was draped over the back. Danny’s phone was set on the nightstand. Alfred, of course, already had clothing set out for Danny to change into in the morning, should he wish. Bruce left it at that and covered Danny lightly with the sheets before he took his leave.

#dp x dc #spirit halloween ship #Danny/bruce #birdritch

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maplesyrupsainz · 3 months ago

Text

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙new fav wag | LS2˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: logan sargeant x williams social media admin!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au

warnings: none jus fluff

summary: in which the internet knows you're in love before you do

a/n: I STARTED WRITING THIS BEFORE THE NEWS DROPPED SO LET'S JUST PRETEND NOTHING HAPPENED FOR NOW IM SO SORRY

request!!!: logan fic or smau where the reader is williams’ newest social media admin?? and logan immediately is crushing on her, and the fans are trying to speculate why logan is suddenly so smiley in a bunch of the clips and videos posted on the williams ig or doing a bunch of challenges on the williams tiktok page (and alex is totally laughing his ass off)

my masterlist

fc: annie.shr

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, yourbff, and others

yourusername bits & bobs 🫶

view all comments

user7 omg? how is she so gorgeous

user8 oh the garage pic lol so she's 100% the right girl

user9 wish i was her omg

user10 omgg. i'd be happy looking at her too 👀

user11 real. can u blame logan lollll

lilymhe prettiest girl!!

yourusername ilysm <3

yourbff im kissing you rn

yourusername i wish!!

user12 does she have a bf? second pic

user13 no one knows lol

user14 logan found dead

user15 logan in the likes too hehe he's down bad

user16 can u blame him

lilyzneimer miss you babe

yourusername miss u sm

user17 omgg she's friends w lily?!!

twitter ->

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by lilymhe, logansargeant, and others

yourbff YESSSS got you all to myself

yourusername hmm, almost

yourbff boo party pooper

lilymhe wow

yourusername oh stop it you

user23 omg ruff ruff ruff ....

user24 so stunning omg

user25 i wish i was u

user26 logan found dead

logansargeant cant wait to relax a bit!

yourusername well deserved 🩵!

logansargeant thanks :) would love to hang out sometime if your free?

yourusername for sure i could find some time!

logansargeant awesome!

yourusername posted a story

liked by yourbff, lilyzneimer, and others

user27 WOWWWW

user28 omg she's gorgeous

user29 wow wow wow

lilymhe omg wow. williams admin off duty is 🔥🔥🔥

yourusername HAHAH stop!!

yourbff meeeeowwww!!!!!

liked by yourusername

logansargeant wow. any chance we could turn that hang out into a date instead? 👀

yourusername HAHAH LOGAN

logansargeant ...well?

yourusername oh wow ur serious. well yes of course

logansargeant cool, cant wait.

twitter ->

messages ->

interview ->

transcript -> y/n (behind the camera): so how was your guys’ two weeks off? logan: good! the rest was really needed for me, and you, alex? alex: well, we can focus on you for a minute still, or both of you actually! *laughs* y/n: haha very funny alex, i dont think people want to hear about my break though

twitter ->

*accidentally messed up the user numbers lol but who rly cares*

instagram ->

logansargeant

liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and others

logansargeant lil update

view all comments

user39 second pic?????

user40 HELLOOOO

user41 soft launch...? 👀

user42 love when he hangs out w alex omg <3

user43 love youuu logan

user44 this is sooo bf

alex_albon my guyyy

liked by logansargeant

oscarpiastri great race this weekend 🤟

logansargeant 🔥

user45 there's no way the 3rd pic was logan alone

user46 legit it's too girly

user47 y/n was here? 👀

liked by alex_albon

user48 HAHA alex liking this comment 😭

user49 lol he ships them so hard

williamsracing love the first pic 😎

liked by logansargeant

user50 no rizz

user51 she's a professional let her live x

yourusername posted a story

liked by lilymhe, yourbff, and others

user52 OH MY GODDDD

user53 this is so logan

lilymhe why are you gatekeeping information from us

yourusername !!!!! dramatic. all in good time

user54 omg obsessed with this lil date

user55 love this sm

user56 soulmates a bit 👀

yourbff text us BACKKKK

liked by yourusername

messages ->

instagram ->

lilymhe posted a story

liked by alex_albon, lilyzneimer, and others

alex_albon just look at them!

lilymhe oh new love 🥰

oscarpiastri they gonna be mad at this

liked by lilymhe

user57 god.

user58 ME WHEN

user59 y/n & logan fr.

user69 confirmed much?

user70 if no one else got us i know lily muni he got us

liked by lilymhe

yourusername 📍 miami

liked by logansargeant, lilyzneimer, and others

yourusername usa usa usa usa usa usa usa usa

view all comments

user71 GIRL WE KNOW UR DATING

user72 obsessed with everything about this.

user73 on god i love them

user74 she's just too beautiful

yourbff i love u so much

yourusername love u w my whole entire heart 💓

user75 the second omg yeehaw much

logansargeant 🇺🇸

liked by yourusername

user76 okay.

user77 you alr know he was fighting back the urge to profess his love for her

user78 he looks so good in the third pic omg

user79 hottest blondies in the world fr

lilyzneimer out of this world beauty!!

yourusername dont be silly you angel

lilyzneimer 💓💓💓

twitter ->

instagram ->

f1wagupdates posted a story

liked by yourbff, lilymhe, and others

user83 NO. WAY.

user84 OH MY GOD FINALLY

user85 finally some proof

user86 ahh not them being caught red handed 😭

user87 obsessed w them omg

user88 CUTIESSS AHH

messages ->

instagram ->

logansargeant posted a story

liked by yourusername, yourbff, and others

user89 LOGOATTTT

user90 omg points & hard launch all in one weekend i feel dizzy

oscarpiastri eventful weekend for you!

logansargeant 🤔 just a bit

oscarpiastri congrats you deserve it 💙

user91 HARD LAUNCHHHH

user92 y/n lucky charm fr fr fr

user93 u will alwaysss be famous

user94 LOGOAT IN THE POINTS

user95 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

user96 🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and others

yourusername okay fine have the hard launch!! 🥰

view all comments

user97 what a rollercoaster it's been

user98 SO HONOURED TO HAVE BEEN APART OF THIS JOURNEY

user99 how did he do it fr

user100 literally. spill the secrets logan

lilyzneimer most gorgeous couple!!!

yourusername no u xxxx

lilymhe pair of stunners

yourusername ly <333

yourbff MY ANGELLL ILYSM

yourusername love you love you love you!!!

alex_albon wow finally. i was in the trenches for a minute there

yourusername dramatic much? 🤨

alex_albon no? why?

logansargeant no comment from me

user101 oh to be in their gc

user102 too beautiful

user103 wow thts williams admin fr...

logansargeant new fav wag!

yourusername 🤨🤨🤨🤨

logansargeant lol! i love you

yourusername love you unreal amounts 🥹

THE END 🩵

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motorsportbarbie13 · 1 month ago

Note

Hiiiii couldn’t help but see you do requests, could you do something where after a hard race reader placed on the podium but felt sick and Max catches her when she collapsed after getting out of the car? Maybe with the words "I can't... my legs... everything's tingling..." and him being super worried. Basically a little angsty with a fluffy end where he’s checking on her, can be established relationship or not.

OH ANON. this was so fun.

Enjoy!

Heatstroke In which, as it turns out, Max wasn't just 'Maxplaining' the difficulty of Singapore to you after all

Pairing: Max Verstappen X FerarriDriver!Reader Warnings: fainting, getting sick/weak, max being a knight in shining armor. Word count: 2.2k Masterlist

Max tried to warn you. Lando tried to warn you. Checo and Lewis had tried to warn you. Hell, the entire fucking grid had tried to warn you that Singapore was a different beast. You had thought they were just coddling you and being over dramatic, as the boys tended to be with you. It was a hazard of being the only woman on the grid, which frankly, drove you bat shit crazy because you had earned your way into the red Ferrari seat next to Charles on your own, thank you very much. You didn’t need to be coddled and you didn’t need to be warned off anything.

But they were right.

Singapore was a different beast.

The heat during the day was oppressive but at night? There wasn’t any relief once the intense sun went down either. You were from Michigan though, that midwestern state being famous for its hot and sticky summers so you had thought you’d been prepared.

As you claimed into your sleek red car, lining up P3 behind Max and Lando though you knew you were in trouble before the green flag waved. The thing about sweating in the humidity like this is that there’s no where for the moisture on your skin to go, the air already too heavy so that slick sweat sticks to you, making you even hotter than before.

“Fuck, this is going to be brutal.” You mumble, hoping that the braid you tied your hair in would stay for the entirety of the race. Suddenly, shaving your hair into a pixie cut like Fred had been suggesting (mostly jokingly) for weeks seemed like a good idea.

The formation lap is fine.

The first ten laps are fine, if not a little squirrely thanks to your car being wildly loose.

The first fifteen laps are fine, if not a bit hot.

But on lap 23? All hell breaks loose.

First, your hydration system fails and you’re completely unable to get any water through the tiny straw that you usually flip into your mouth on the straightaway, just like Danny taught you. You’re sweating up a storm with no way to replenish those valuable electrolytes.

Then, you’re so busy focusing on the fact that you’d give your first born child for a sip of water you nearly slam into the same exact wall that took George out on the last lap of last year’s race. You yank the steering wheel around so hard, you feel something in your wrist pop. The searing pain causes you to over correct and you nearly drive right into your own fucking teammate.

“Fuck. Tell Charlie I’m sorry.” You groan over the radio, telling your engineer to pass on the message to Charles.

“Focus on your race.” Your engineer tells you, voice obviously strained just as yours is. “Charles is fine.”

Well, I sure as fuck am not fine. You think as you fight the car down towards the starting line.

On lap 45, you’re granted a reprieve when a Sauber goes into the wall, bringing out a yellow flag. The leaders all duck into the pits, including yourself. There’s nothing anyone can do about your water situation and at this point, your instincts have kicked it.

Max was right and you knew it. Singapore was hell. He had tried to tell you last night, as you had been snuggled up in bed with him, a ritual that you both had become dependent on this season. It seemed cliche, you falling for one of your rivals. You hated it but there was no denying that there was a magnetic chemistry between the two of you that had started the moment you had met last year while you were still driving in F2.

You had resisted his charm for a while but things had taken a turn the night it was announced you’d be driving for Ferrari alongside Charles. Several of the drivers that lived in Monaco full time insisted on taking you to Jimmy Z’s to celebrate and who were you to say no to a bunch of handsome men paying for your drinks?

The night ended just as you might expect it: Max drunkenly confessing his year-long crush on you and you drunkenly kissing him in a dark alleyway as you waited for your Uber. What had started off as a drunken confession and your reckless response that wasn’t supposed to mean anything had turned into one of the greatest things that has ever happened to you. Max and you? The pair of you were endgame.

But none of that mattered now. Not here, in the raging heat and humidity of Singapore. You knew that Max was going to give you shit for not being better prepared the moment you got out of the car. You knew you were in for an ‘I told you so’ lecture on the plane ride back in the morning. You knew Max was right and you had been stupid to underestimate the power this track had over drivers.

Looking back on your first race in Singapore years later, you don’t quite know how you managed to finish those last laps. Pure determination and stubbornness, Max would insist later on that night. But before you’re able to fully wrap your head around how dangerous of a situation you’d gotten yourself into, the checkered flag is waving and you’ve crossed the finish line in P3, right behind Lando and Max.

Your third podium of the year. If you had been more coherent, you probably would have been elated. But all you could think about as you pulled your car into parc ferme, right behind that little cardboard 3 sign, was the ice bath you knew was waiting for you somewhere in the paddock.

Your red racing suit is soaked through and through, you can feel it before you even get out of the car. It takes a mammoth effort to pull the steering wheel out of it’s dock and for a moment, you worry you’re so weak you can’t even do that. In front of you, you see Lando pop out of the car in the P1 spot, elated to have won with a healthy margin of over 20 seconds for the second time that season.

Max is out of the car too, albeit a bit slower than Lando. There’s a distant buzzing in your ear that sounds eerily like your engineer’s voice asking if you’re okay. But you’re completely unable to focus on anything beyond the tingling sensation in your legs. This wasn’t something you’d ever felt inside a race car in all your years of driving. Everything stung, like a million little fire ants were making a meal out of your flesh. It took every ounce of strength, of which you didn’t have much, to hoist yourself up out of the car.

Your head swims the moment you stand up straight, and you feel your legs collapse under you. Somewhere off in the distance, you hear Max calling your name but you can’t look up, your helmet suddenly feeling like it weighs 300 pounds.

Crouching in your car, you desperately try to pull yourself together before anyone notices you’re struggling. You didn’t want to give the media the satisfaction of pulling another ‘look, another woman who thinks she can hang with the rest of the F1 drivers.’ Like they’ve been attempting to do all season.

Your eyes are closed but you still hear the faint call of Max’s voice somewhere off in the distance. The entire world is reduced down to a singular pin prick of light while you fight to stay conscious, the heat and humidity wrapping their ugly little fingers tightly around your throat.

Just as you’re about to surrender to the warm quiet of the darkness that seems to be calling out to you, a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, hauling you out of the car like you weigh less than a bag of potatoes. You go limp in the arms of whoever has come to your rescue, collapsing under the strain of what you just put your body though.

“Baby, please. Look at me.”

Somehow, your helmet has been removed and you find yourself blinking up at Max.

When did he get here? You wonder idly, not realizing it was him that pulled you out of the car.

Max had gone practically feral when GP told him that you’d gone nearly 3/4 of the race without water. He knew how brutal this race was, and the humidity was unusually high tonight. He had gotten out of the car fairly quickly but had panicked when he saw your helmet tipped forward, resting on the halo device and you not moving.

You lift your head, still wondering where your helmet was and instantly found yourself staring straight into the baby blue eyes of your boyfriend. “Maxie?” You croak, throat feeling like you just dined on a three course meal of sand and gravel.

“Hey…” He coos, bringing you closer to his chest. “There’s my girl. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” He rubs soothing circles over your back, not caring that the press is having a field day with this.

“I can’t…” You stutter, struggling to make the words in your head sound coherent when your mouth tries to form them. “My legs…everything is tingling.”

If you had been a bit more coherent, you would’ve seen the look of absolute panic cross Max’s face. He frantically looks around as he lifts you into his arms, one arm under your knees, the other cradling your back against his chest. He knew you were going to absolutely murder him when you come around and see the pictures. You hated being coddled and hated showing affection on the grid even more. You and Max weren’t really hiding the fact that you were together, most fans knew and it was common knowledge around the paddock but the causal fan might be surprised to find out the lore between the two of you. So this outright show of concern, affection, and panic over the state of you that Max was showing right now? It was absolutely not a common occurrence

“Interviews are going to have to wait.” Max barks at Jensen, this weeks post-race presenter. “She needs medical attention.”

Jensen simply nods, allowing you to pass.

Fred and Charles intercept you half way to the tent, insisting that getting you in the ice baths will be the thing to help you the most. Max, nearly delirious with worry because while your eyes were open and you were somewhat alert, follows their instructions and takes you back behind the garage area where the ice baths had been set up.

It’s all you can do to stand upright as Max unzips your race suit. It’s so heavy with your sweat that it practically peels off of you with no effort, gravity doing the work for Max. And then your left in just your fireproofs. If you hadn’t been in the middle of the paddock with thousands of people and cameras around, Max would have stripped you down to just your underwear, but that wasn’t an option.

WIth Max and Charles’ help, you’re able to hoist yourself into the waiting ice bath. The shock of the frigid water jolts some awareness back into you the moment your body is submerged in the glacial water.

“Holy fuck.” You grit out, eyes closing in pain.

“I know…I know, schatje. But it’ll get you feeling better so much quicker than anything else.

You nod, still not fully aware of how you got here but thankful for Max’s steadying presence beside you. He’s crouched down so he’s eye level with you as you ball yourself up to get as much heated skin under the cold water and the worry etched all over his face is enough to steal your breath.

“Max. Holy fuck. That was…you weren’t just Maxsplaining to me last night, were you?”

A chuckle finds its way out of his lips, despite the state of panic Max is in. “No, I was not just ‘Maxsplaining’ anything last night, silly girl.”

“Shut up.”

“You’ve got your fire back, I see. I think you’ll live.” Max leans in to press a kiss to the crown of your head before dropping another kiss on your temple, then your cheek, and finally his lips find their home on yours. Right where they belong. It’s not a lingering kiss, or a passionate one. No. This kiss is filled with gratitude and relief and sheer dumb realization of how much this man loves you.

Your eyes are open more now, a few minutes in the ice bath doing your heat stroke symptoms good. It takes you a few moments to really grasp the severity of what just happened. How close you came to passing out mid-race. How it was Max that got you out of that car and was at your side before anyone else.

All around you, the paddock is bustling to life. The scene Max created by hauling you over to Ferrari’s garages has somewhat dissipated. Only a few onlookers are stopped still, but your team remains solidly around you, faces a mask of concern. But the only person you see is Max.

“Thank you, baby.” You murmur when he leans in for another kiss.

“Anything for you, schatje.” He rasps, emotion clawing at his throat. “Anything.”

#max verstappen #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #MY FIRST REQUEST EVER omg #anon ask #one shot #angsty fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader

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