#you actually got under my skin enough for me to answer
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Around 8 months ago (I can't believe its been that long either) you answered an ask about what Arthur Lester and his 3 bf's ideal positions were (top/bottom/switch), and, just out of curiosity, have you changed your mind at all about your answers? Or is John still a top, Oscar still a bottom, and Noel & Arthur both switches?
ITS BEEN THAT LONG ?!?!!?! good god oufghc anyway anyway- I think that has changed a bit and I’ll put my ramblings under cut bc well. there’s probably a bit more detail than you want out on your tumblr dash
okay Arthur hasn’t changed, he’s still a switch in my heart. I think John is still mainly a top, but he dabbles in switching positions. Like if someone realllllyyyy wants to top he’ll be like “okay :)”
Noel is definitely just a top, and he tried being the bottom once and was content to not try it again (even if Oscar was patient and gentle). Although he does top, he’s not much for penetrative sex. He has some problems getting like, physically aroused (also aforementioned preferences- he’s a bit of a voyeur, he’s got those monsterfucker tendencies, whatever the fuck he and the butcher had going on) and therefore likes to get creative with it. He definitely likes to have a bit of control during sex, not being possessive but just being in the lead.
Oscar is mainly still a bottom but I think he can switch it up if he wants because he’s hot like that. Im pretty sure this might directly contradict my earlier statements, b u t- it took him a while to be comfortable being the top, because he’s had very negative connotations with that position. He didn’t like the idea of the power imbalance during sex it could make, and that he’d be the one creating it. With enough patience tho he was willing to give it go with someone he trusted (Noel probably, and although that didn’t do much for Noel he was still great at giving pointers). Annddd I think that’s why I like bottom John and top Oscar together bc they’re going against their usual preferences and trusting the other to give them something they don’t usually get.
I feel bad for writing whole paragraphs for Noel and Oscar and jarthur just gets to share a single sentence um OOPS- uhhh o k a y
John! a switch with top preferences! he gets really aggressive with Arthur but that’s just because Arthur matches his energy. I think he also talks a lot during sex, mainly giving affirmations and praise. With Noel tho- if he’s still human then they’re just having a teasing match. Noel likes to bring out the flirt and get under John’s skin, and John is trying so hard to keep up without just being an ass. Monster John and Noel tho? all bets are off and they’re getting real freaky with it. John still makes sure to be careful and check in often incase he does something that might hurt Noel. And Noel’s like sweetheart I don’t caarrrrreeee pleaassseeee get those tendrils around me. And with Oscar he’s verrrryyyyy careful. Like he could most definitely get more rough with him, but he doesn’t want to do something wrong and have Oscar never want to be near him again. So he’s real gentle, placing more emphasis on foreplay and closeness than actual sex.
and Arthur! the guy I think about the least somehow! sorry king! a switch that is a horny little freak at heart. He’s up for a lot of things and will be down to try anything if his partner thinks they’ll like it. He’s definitely got more of a dominant personality, and I think that’s verryyy evident with, surprise surprise, Parker! Those two had some wweiirrdddd dynamics going on and thought of flirting and sex like some kinda secret game they both wanted to win. Arthur gets manipulative sometimes, but only if he knows the other person would enjoy it. I think since he’s aro, he’s got less romantic attachment to sex, and thus just really likes having sex to unwind or have some fun.
OUG I RAMBLED TOO HARD SORRY I’ll leave
#ask#wough I think about them too hard#something something exploring a character and their dynamic with others thru sex etc etc#arthur lester and his three boyfriends
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More Than This 9
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader
Word Count: ~3k
Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.
Warnings: Angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, explicit language, references to childhood trauma, pregnancy, my own rampant abuse of italics and en dashes, the slooowest burn, - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
A/N: We've made it to brighter days, you guys!!! I won't lie to you and say there's no angst at all in this chapter, but we've definitely finally entered the next era of this story. Yay!
Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who fact-checked this for me, and in general is just always available to talk things through.
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too! As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
You were anxiously pacing around the lower floor when Ransom got home. He stopped in the entryway, watching you carefully. When you stopped moving around, making eye contact with him, he asked, “You ready to go?”
Instead of answering his question, you just said, “You don’t need to come with me. I– I can do this by myself.”
He scoffed. “Like I wouldn’t take advantage of a reason to leave work early.” He held a hand out to you. “Come on,” he said seriously. “Let’s go.”
You nodded silently and grabbed your handbag, letting him lead you out to the car.
“It’s going to be ok,” he murmured as he opened the car door for you. You couldn’t tell if he believed that or not, but you nodded anyway.
You were both silent for the whole drive, news radio murmuring quietly in the background. When he parked in front of the small, upscale clinic, you made no move to get out of the car. You just stared out the window at the building as it loomed in front of you. You took a deep breath, then another, the panic starting to claw its way up your throat. You weren’t ready. You weren’t ready. You weren’t ready. “I’m sorry!” you blurted out.
Ransom’s head whipped to you. “What?”
You shook your head. “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t– It was supposed to take a long time. I never thought it’d happen so fast. That’s why I pushed, I was so scared. But– But then it took no time at all. It was supposed to take a long time.”
Ransom placed a gentle hand on your wrist. “I–” he started then sighed. “We both knew what the goal was, okay? This isn’t anyone’s fault.” He paused and pursed his lips. “And that’s not even–” he sighed again and briefly moved his thumb in soothing circles on your skin. “Listen, we don’t– Let’s just go in and find out where we stand, okay? I’ll– I’ll be with you the whole time.”
He gently squeezed your wrist once and you were surprised by the way his touch grounded you. You took another deep breath and you actually felt the air fill your lungs this time. He came around and opened your door for you, then guided you inside with a hand on your back.
The sanitary paper crinkled under you as you tried to get comfortable on the examination table. You’d already gone through your medical history and how you’d been feeling the last few weeks. The obstetrician seemed nice enough. She was someone Ransom had discreetly gotten a recommendation for from an author he sometimes worked with. Neither of you had gone to your families for that. Steve was still the only one who knew.
“Alright, this might be a little cold,” Dr. Patel said as she squeezed gel over your stomach. You flinched a little as it hit you, and you saw Ransom fidget in his seat right next to the table, up by your head.
She was silent as she moved the wand around, eyes fixed on her screen. Then she paused and smiled. “There it is,” she said. The soft static that had filled the room suddenly switched to a gentle wooshing. “And there’s the heartbeat.”
The heartbeat. Your baby’s heartbeat. Alive inside of you. You jumped a little when you suddenly felt Ransom’s hand wrap around your own. You glanced over at him, But his attention was raptly focused on the screen in front of the doctor. He leaned forward a little. “Wait,” he said, his voice low. “Where is–”
The doctor pointed to a little black splotch on the screen. “Right there,” she said, warmly. “They’re still an embryo now, but they’ll become a fetus in a week or two. Judging by your last period and these measurements, I’d say you're seven weeks along.”
At some point, she turned the ultrasound off. She cleaned off your belly. You heard her talking to you. You heard Ransom respond. But you couldn’t process any of it. All you could focus on, all you could still hear was the steady, hummingbird fast woosh, woosh, woosh of your baby’s heartbeat.
The car ride back was completely silent. Ransom had turned off the radio as soon as he’d turned the key in the ignition. You couldn’t blame him. Your thoughts were loud enough. There was a baby inside of you. It was really happening. It’d been abstract before. A few little symbols on a plastic strip that didn’t actually mean anything. But now they did. Now there was a baby. You’d heard it. You turned your head to Ransom beside you. Now you truly were connected to this man for the rest of your life. The idea, while still a little terrifying, wasn’t nearly as awful now as it would have been just a few weeks before.
As he pulled up to a stop sign, he did more than pause. After a few moments of idling, you ventured a soft “Ransom?”
He turned to you from where he’d been staring unseeing through the windshield. His bright blue eyes pierced you. “We should go get dinner,” he said, out of absolutely nowhere.
“What?”
“Yeah,” he said, his fingers extending to flick on his turn signal. “Let’s go out to eat. I’m starving.”
“I– Okay? Where–”
“I know a great place,” he said, nodding to himself as he turned the car around.
The restaurant he brought you to small, intimate. After turning over the car to the valet, he ushered you inside with a warm hand on your back. The hostess led you to a quiet booth in the corner and you and Ransom settled in on opposite sides of the table.
The waiter appeared just a few moments later to tell you about the specials. Then, they asked, “Have you had a chance to look at the drink menu?”
As Ransom reached for it, you uttered a quiet, “Water’s fine for me, thank you.”
Ransom paused and looked at you. “Oh. Right.” He turned back to the waiter. “For me as well,” he said, and the waiter quickly left you both alone.
“You can drink. I’ll be fine.”
Ransom shrugged. “Who wants to drink alone?”
You didn’t really know what to say to that, so you turned your attention to the menu, which you each perused quietly.
After the waiter returned and you both ordered, Ransom cleared his throat awkwardly. “So,” he said, “we’re really having a baby.”
You choked a little on your water. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“I–” he started, then let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. After a weighted pause, he asked, “How are you feeling about it?”
You looked at him carefully. The last week and a half, after your fight then your detente, and then Steve’s visit, had been so different from the months that had preceded them. You both had been so different. It was very possible that he was becoming a person you could trust. You took a breath and decided to be honest. “I’m really scared. Kind of terrified.”
He just stared at you for a moment, then mumbled “Yeah,” with another head shake. He looked off to the side. “God, I hated being a kid.”
“Yeah?” you asked, so, so quietly.
He looked back at you. “Yeah. I mean, you’ve met my parents. They didn’t– They had me because they needed to. To further the lineage or whatever. But they didn’t really have much interest beyond that. So I was just kind of… there.”
You hated how much you understood that. “When we moved into Joseph’s house, I never felt comfortable there. I was always just an intruder or a nuisance.”
He nodded, then asked, “How old were you?”
“Six. Steve was the best. From the very beginning, he made it livable. But I never felt at home anywhere until I moved out on my own.”
He looked down a little as he hummed in acknowledgment. Then, hesitantly, “What happened to your dad?”
“He died,” you said, plainly. “A heart attack. When I was five.”
He swiped his hand over his mouth. “Shit. That must have been hard. I’m sorry.”
You shook your head. “I barely remember him. And what I do remember,” you shifted uncomfortably, “he was a very angry man I think. I was always a little scared of him. My mom was too, I know that. But when he died… I don’t remember any relief. Just a mad scramble to find someone else to take care of us, since she’d never given him an heir. So we ended up with Joseph. But… I don’t know. I don’t think I ever really stopped being scared.”
Ransom let out a long sigh. “Yeah,” he said, quietly. “I get that.” He leaned back in his chair. “Fuck. We’re setting quite the precedent, huh?”
Your hand drifted to cover your stomach. “I don’t want them to ever feel like that. Be that scared.”
Ransom’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed uncomfortably. “Me neither,” he said, very quietly.
You both just sat with that thought silently, until another thought jumped into your head. “Oh, god, what are we gonna do about Lola? She doesn’t share attention well.”
He surprised you by laughing. “I can imagine. We’ll figure it out,” he said with a smile. “Make sure she’s ready.”
You matched him with your own grin. “You like her,” you accused.
He rolled his eyes. “She’s alright, I guess.”
“Uh-huh. Sure, Mr. ‘I hate dogs.’”
“It’s possible that I had too small a sample size.” He rolled his eyes again. “Harlan has a couple german shepherds. They’re fucking assholes.”
You felt your eyes light up. “Are you afraid of big dogs, Ransom?” you teased.
“No!” he pointed at you. “No. I just don’t like it when they’re that size and they charge at me. Lola’s manageable. I don’t mind her.”
“Well,” you shrugged. “I’m just glad you never tried to make me get rid of her.”
His eyes softened and he almost looked regretful. “Hey,” he said, softly. “I never would have done that. I just,” he sighed, “say shit sometimes. I’m not used to anyone listening to me.”
He’d said that to you before, but it hadn’t occurred to you until that moment just how sad that was—that he’d always been comfortable saying whatever thought popped into his head because he knew that no matter what he said no one would ever take him seriously. You gave a helpless little shrug as you softly said, “I always listen to you.”
He fixed you with a look that almost took your breath away. Like he actually saw you. “Yeah,” he said quietly, “I know you do.”
That was the moment your food came. The waiter set your plate in front of you, blackened sea bass with a saffron asparagus risotto. You weren’t sure which element exactly was the culprit, but the moment the smell hit your nose, your stomach roiled dangerously. You’d been lucky, so far, that you hadn’t had many issues with morning sickness, but you immediately knew that if you didn’t get that plate away from you, there’d be a major problem. “Shit,” you muttered quietly.
Ransom’s attention snapped to you. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” you tried. “It’s just, the smell. I can’t–” You pushed the plate away from you.
“You’re nauseous?” Ransom clarified.
You nodded, breathing through your mouth.
Without another word, he picked up your plate and switched it with his own. “Is that good enough?” he asked. “Or do you need it gone completely?”
You took a few tentative, experimental sniffs. As your stomach seemed to calm, you sighed in relief. “I think I’m ok. Thank you.” But then you looked down at Ransom’s ribeye in front of you now. “Oh, that’s– No, this is what you wanted. I can’t–”
He interrupted you with your name, both fond and firm. “Shut up and eat your steak.”
You did as you were told, relieved to find that not only did it not upset your stomach, but it was delicious. You let out a little happy sigh and closed your eyes at how good it was, opening them as you swallowed to find Ransom watching you. Your face warmed in embarrassment as he quickly looked to his own plate, the tips of his ears turning red.
You searched blindly for something to talk about, anything to shift the focus from how ridiculous you were. “What was your grandmother like?” you blurted out. Just proving your own ridiculousness further, instead of distracting from it. But it was something you’d wondered about, what Harlan’s own marriage had been like, when he was so set on you being a good influence on his grandson.
Ransom looked at you, a little puzzled. “Uh, my grandma? I don’t know. I never really felt like I knew her that well. Harlan’s so big, you know? She always seemed small in comparison. Um,” he looked up thoughtfully, “I remember her caring a lot what other people were up to, like her neighbors or their friends, what they were buying, what their kids were achieving. She and Harlan, I don’t know, they seemed to get along? Better than my parents, at least, but that’s a low bar. Why on earth do you ask?”
“I don’t know. I…” you trailed off as you tried to pull your thoughts together. “He’s always talking about what our marriage should be and how good for you I’m going to be. And he’s kind to me. But the way he looks at me, and the way he talks about me… It makes me feel like me, who I am, doesn’t actually matter. Just the affect I have on you. And it just made me curious about what she was like. What their marriage was like.”
Ransom hummed a little. “Well,” he said. “The first thing you need to know about Harlan is that he’s full of shit. He thinks he’s the one who’s done everything right and he knows everything. I don’t know what their relationship was like, but my guess is that he knew the version of her that he wanted to know and didn’t bother to get to know her any further.”
You let out your own little hum and then asked the question that had been on your mind since that dinner at Harlan’s. “What’s the deal between the two of you, anyhow?”
Ransom sighed heavily. His gaze dropped as he played with the signet ring on his pinky. “When I was a kid, like really little, Harlan was the only person who gave a shit about me. I spent a lot of time at his house. He was safe and warm when home was cold and scary. People always said we were a lot alike. And I loved that. For a while. But when I got older, it turned into ‘You should be just like me.’ All of my choices were suddenly under a microscope and he’d get so disappointed in me if I did anything differently from what he would do. So then I went hard in the opposite direction. And that caused its own problems.” He paused for a moment, not quite meeting your eyes. “But still, when Neal died, Harlan named me as his heir instead of Walt. But that’s just made him more aggressive about letting me know how he thinks I should be living my life.” He let out a long breath. “I understand him making you feel like you who actually are doesn’t matter. That’s just what he does. There’s never any winning with him. He’s rigged the game.”
For the second time that night, you were overcome by just how sad you were for Ransom. He’d been all alone for so long. Impulsively, you reached out and grabbed his hand where it rested on the table across from you. “I’m sorry for both of us, then,” you said quietly.
He took a moment, just staring at the way your hand slotted into his. Then, finally, he brought his thumb up and brushed it across your knuckles. “Yeah, me too,” he whispered.
You got back to the house pleasantly full and much calmer than you’d been earlier in the day. Lola greeted you both like she hadn’t seen you in weeks. You smiled as Ransom immediately picked her up, carrying her to the back door indulgently. As he let her out, you got yourself some water from the fridge.
When they came back in, you smiled down at Lola as you said, “Tonight was really nice. Thank you. I haven’t had a dinner out like that in a long time.”
Ransom took a few steps toward you to close the distance between you. “We should do it more often,” he said lowly.
You weren’t sure what to say next. It almost felt like saying goodbye at the end of a first date, instead of an amicable good night to a man you’d been married to for months. You shook the thought away. You were being silly.
“I’m going to call Steve to tell him how it went today.” Then you added, with a slight grimace. “And then I might go to bed. I know it’s ridiculously early, but I’ve been so exhausted lately.”
He answered you with a soft smile. “That makes sense. You are growing a person inside you.”
You huffed out a small laugh. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
There was another slightly awkward pause. Then Ransom cleared his throat and said, “I’ll probably be in my room, but I’ll be up for a while, if you need anything.”
You smiled at the offer. “Thank you,” you said, and then after a quiet exchange of good nights, you went upstairs to call your step-brother.
#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale#ransom drysdale x female reader#ransom drysdale x you#knives out#ransom drysdale angst#chris evans fanfiction#fanfic#reader insert#arranged marriage au#more than this#kris wrote something
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How to Get the Girl Pt. 2 - Huening Kai



Synopsis: Overwhelmed Kai gets Y/N into a predicament.
pairing: Nerdy! Kai x Mentor! Y/N
warnings: cheesiness, some cursing I think? nothing crazy, bad writing. Mostly a chapter to move along and get to the good stuff >;3
WC: 3.6k
A/N: IM BACK AGAIN.... thanks for so much love on the first part :'3 I didn't expect it to get so much traction but it's got me motivated to write!! Updates might be slow but I will be continuing to write as much as I can!!
Part 1 | Part 2 |
“Okay, you said she was into popular, cool guys, right? Well what do cool and popular guys tend to have?” You were looking through the clothes on the racks, waiting for a response.
The week had passed by in a flash, you had just finished your last midterm before spring break, and were ready to dive into full coach mode. Kai had felt the same way, seemingly more interested and open than the week before. He had been asking questions all week after your first meeting, making him a bit more out of his shell since.
“Leather and stuff?” He stood awkwardly in front of the giant mirror, staring at you behind him rather than himself.
“Okay, yeah…”you shrug, “But think. What’s the thing that most girls find attractive?” He looks at the racks of clothes that surround you both, hoping to find the right answer within the stacks of jeans, before you answer yourself.
“Confidence! What makes a guy so hot and attractive, is when they are comfortable in their skin! So we want to make sure that whatever we pick out today, you feel hot in it!”
He cringes at the thought. And you're not entirely sure why. Kai was good looking, handsome enough to have heard some compliments about it. But insecurity was a disease, a bad habit that plagued the minds of an entire generation. Better to nip it now, you thought.
“Okay, first lesson!” Your loud vibrant voice fills the corner of the shop, circling around Kai, grabbing his shoulders gently, looking up at him in the eyes, “I want you to look into the mirror and say ‘Kai, you are hot.’” You circle him again, positioning yourself behind him. He looks around the store.
“L-like right now?”
“Yup.”
“In front of all these people?”
“Not asking for a speech, kai. One compliment.” You encouragingly tap his shoulder.
He sighs, looking at you and then himself through the mirror. You nod, egging him on.
“Kai…you're hot.” he mumbles.
“Say it just a little bit louder.”
“Were in a store…” You push him gently and he sighs before clearing his throat.
“Kai. Youre hot.”
“Yes you are… and with a new wardrobe, you'll be unstoppable.”
He scoffs, trying to force a smile down before you push him to the fitting rooms.
“Get undressed, I'm going to find something for you to try on.”
“Yes, maam.” You hear him mumble and it makes you smile before heading to the floor.
It had been an hour of trying to find something that called out to him, you would hold it up to him to get some type of agreement, but he practically hated most of the things you suggested.
The colors are too loud…
The jeans are too bright…
It took a lot out of you to not groan at the rejection. He wasn't wrong, he was just…very picky.
Your search had finally made it to the end of the store when Kai was finally dressed back in his regular plain white tee shirt and faded jeans. You stare at him for a moment, taking in his stature. The bagginess of his clothes hid any peek of his actual form under, yet you couldn’t necessarily ignore the big broad shoulders he wore, the way his baggy shirt still clung to his chest.
“Do you work out?” You asked abruptly, not trying to hide the confusion on your face as your head rests on the palm of your hand.
“Huh? Me?”
You nod, brows still furrowed.
“Oh, no!” He laughs nervously, waving his hands, “my job just involves a lot of heavy stuff. I'm a roadie? But like for local bands… in bars…”
“you into bands that much?”
“Yea…im in one…”
“YOU are in a band?” You ask, your eyes round.
“Why are you so surprised?” He raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips.
“I mean… you're asking for help talking to girls… Band guys usually have a whole roster, you know.”
“We're not all drowning in girls, you know, and besides I'm doing this to talk to ONE girl… I'm not really interested in having a “roster”.
“So…she's not into the whole band thing?”
“I dont know... but I think it's just that we've known each other since we were kids…. She probably still sees me as her dorky friend from high school…” he sighs, leaning against the nearby wall, crossing his arms, and you're not sure what causes you to watch the way his biceps slightly contract under the flowy fabric.
“And you play drums?” His eyes perk up.
“How did you know?” He cocks his head, a small smile settling on his face, and you have to look away. You feel incredibly small again, the way his gentle eyes look at you with curiosity. They were too honest, too open, they made your stomach flip, you had to turn away.
“Lucky guess?” you shrug, trying to make the blush on your cheeks less noticeable ,before continuing your rummage of folded sweaters. Your mind suddenly imagines him on stage, the sweat dripping from his forehead, and it's like the dam of ideas finally breaks.
“Follow me.”
After a couple of minutes of walking around aimlessly in the mall, Kai crashing into you every time you would abruptly stop to look into the mannequins that decorated the windows, you finally found the store you had been looking for.
“Tada! What do we think?” You say, once you've entered the store. The dark lighting fit the rest of the ambiance, with the dark clothes that hung on the wooden walls, loud music playing from the intercom, and chains that decorated the accessories section.
“If you're gonna be in a band, you gotta look like you're in a band. You know the drill.” You point over to the fitting rooms, as you start making your way around the tables of clothing. He smiles, rolling his eyes playfully before heading to the back.
Much to your excitement, Kai had stopped at a couple of articles of clothing that caught his eyes before heading in the small room, closing the black curtain behind him. You make a mental note at the ones he stopped to check before taking him a pile of clothes for him to try on. As much to his dismay, colors worked on him, maybe not as bright as the ones you chose for him at your typical shop but you hoped you guessed his style right, this time.
And right you were, when he finally stepped out. You don't expect yourself to be shocked at the change correct sized clothes can make, but in a blue striped short sleeve that hugged his upper arms instead of hiding them, his waist finally framed by the shirt, and a pair of black jeans that actually reached the top of the boots he wore, left you staring, frozen at the change in aura. He seemed to enjoy this reaction, pushing up the hair from his forehead, shaking it out and clears his throat, pushing his glasses up and his smile down.
“Im a genius.” you finally say and he laughs.
“You like it? I also um… added a necklace for an extra…like…whatever.”
“Kai… Youre hot.” You exclaim, walking up to him, him finally facing the mirror and his glasses fog up.
“Do you feel comfortable in it? Not too tight or anything right? We can always go up a size…change to another color…”
“No… I actually really like it.” He says softly, before smiling.
You look at him through the mirror. The small smile on his lips as he fixes the shirt, straightening it, before looking back at you, fills your heart with a sense of pride. It always did. This was always your favorite part of the course, having them find themselves, their respective styles that can make them feel like they stand out. Clothing was your favorite way to learn about your clients, how they express themselves, what they want the world to see.
“You know what you gotta do now right?” you raise your eyebrow motioning to the mirror. He groans looking around again.
“Y/N…theres actually a shit-ton of people in here…”
“Just say it quickly then, before someone walks by.”
“Kai, youre hot.” He says quickly.
“I didnt hear it well.”
“Okay, well why dont you do it, since youre so confident…” He scoffs, still monitoring the area.
“Y/N…” you say with exasperation, getting closer to your reflection in the mirror, “You are so hot. If I could clone you and marry myself, I would.” you finish by sending air kisses towards the mirror, catching glances from other shoppers. Kai watches too, his face bugged with a look of minor annoyance.
You sigh, “Your turn.” He sighs before nodding.
“Kai…” he starts and for a bit it looks like he’ll actually take it seriously, “...cant believe youre getting help from somebody so shameless…” He says quickly before running into the fitting room, “Okay! Next fit!”
“Hey!”
—-
The day begins to dwindle down, the lights of the mall turn on once the sun light no longer luminates up the building. Kai, unbeknownst to him, no longer sounded nervous or scared to say the wrong thing, as the day went by. You were surprised with how far you cracked him open in just two meetings, learning quite a lot about him in the last couple of hours, and for a second you forgot this was a job. You learned that the sweetness that came with him was actually genuine, not just because you were a stranger, that he had the sense of humor of a millennial, often cracking up at the small puns he would spit out, you would have cringed if it weren't for his loud infectious laugh, ripping through the light murmur of the mall, causing you to giggle with him. You watched him beam with pride at the talk of his band, how he hardly realized the bar's emptiness when he was up there, the therapeutic hits, were the reason for the callouses in his hands. You were so entranced by the conversation, you didn't pay any mind to the redness of your face, when he had you feel the callouses, your hands hovering lightly over his large hand.
“Well kai, i think it's safe to say we've had a successful day! New outfits! New found confidence, well atleast externally, we still gotta learn how to be nice to ourselves.”
You were passing the last couple of shops, Kai had bought quite a lot, seemingly a whole new wardrobe and thankfully was carrying most of the bags, you had helped with the smaller ones.
“I am nice! I'm just not conceited…”
“Well, hell! You should be! Everyone should be!” You smile confidently, while he rolls his eyes playfully chuckling. He seems fully comfortable and while you were enjoying this side of him, it was time for the second step of the course.
“Kai…” Your voice now softer, your eyes fluttering up at him, “I deserve a date, don't you think?”
He freezes, still staring at you, as his entire face and neck goes red. You motion for him to continue, but when his lips begin to move and nothing comes out, you decide to help.
“What would you say if I was Saeri?”
“I-I dont know…”
“Kai…” you whisper encouragingly, gaining his undivided attention, “Invite me for a drink.”
“W-would you like, to um, like um, go for a drink?”
“Yeah! Id love to! Where to?”
“Oh! Um… Oh okay. Come on.”
“No Kai, no girl is gonna go with you if you say come on…” you grab his hand pulling him back, laughing lightly, “tell me where we're going, tell me the place is cool and just be yourself! Be normal, like you're asking a friend.”
He breathes out, seemingly preparing himself, before nodding.
“Ima start over…” you nod, fixing your hair, starting over the scenario.
“Well todays been a successful day! I think I might get going its a little late…” You smile teasingly, before slowly walking away, “Wow, such a long day, Im just so thirsty…”
You're still walking ridiculously slow, waiting to be stopped, any moment now. But it never comes, and when you've realized you've gotten quite far, you roll your eyes and turn around, only to see Kai, speaking to an unfamiliar couple. He seems to be caught off guard, you can hear the echo of his stuttering and you take it as a sign to join the conversation.
“Hey…” You say trying to make eye contact with Kai, but his eyes are set on the couple and you dont ignore the glare he has fixed on the guy.
“Well, hello!” the guy says rather sarcastically, “Would you look at that…Little Kai has made a little friend… Youngsoo, Im Kai’s older cousin,” he earns a bump from the smaller figure’s shoulder, their hands intertwined,“this here is Saeri…and you are?”
The mention of the name has you whipping your head back to the frozen state of the tall man standing behind you, his stare flicking between the woman in question and the image of their hands locked.
“Hi…Im-um-Im Y/N… Nice to meet you both!” You extend your hand, shaking the tall stranger's big hand, taking in his appearance. He was incredibly handsome, almost intimidating so, with his black short hair slicked back, and black eyes sweeping a quick look of the entirety of you, making you feel the urge to cover yourself up. His physique though, took most of your attention, with his sweater clinging onto his entire torso. Saeri takes your hand next, her soft hand gently holding onto yours, as she shyly greets you. And wow. You understood the desire kai seemed to have for her, her breathtaking appearance had you quite noticeably entranced. Her soft brown hair reached her shoulders, eyes as brown as Kai’s, lips plump and soft, every feature perfectly fitting her face.
“Its nice to meet you, Y/N.” Her smile seemed mostly genuine and sweet, “And you know Kai…how?”
“Oh, we were just-”
“Ahh sorry, where are my manners…this is my girlfriend, Y/N.” You feel a hand slip through your hands, squeezing tightly, not enough to hurt but enough to feel the tension coursing through them. Your eyes widen, staring at the interlocked hands, and then back at the once stumbling character of Kai, no longer shy and nervous, but now full of anger.
Girlfriend!?
You wait for him to look back at you, to motion a ‘what the hell is going on?!’ look but the smug face on Youngsoo keeps his full attention, probably forgetting that the object of his desires is in front of him as well.
“This is your girlfriend? L-like she agreed to BE your girlfriend?”
You can't help but make a face at the comment, what the hell is this guys problem?
After a moment, he can only laugh in shock, seemingly unconvinced.
“Well, I mean, congratulations… thats like what? Your first girlfriend ever?”
“Youngsoo.” Saeri, who looked embarrassed and sorry, looked at Kai's face, which had been trying really hard to not drop in disappointment.
“Oh, come on…Just teasing… we're all friends here! Right kai?”
“Kai…I didn't know you had a girlfriend…H-How nice!” Her smile doesn't meet her eyes as the first one she offered, and yet you didn't read much into it, more distracted by one of your rules, officially breaking in front of you.
“Yeah. It just happened…r-really sudden..” You squeeze his hand, earning a groan from him, stopping him from cementing the lie further and further.
“Well! Um… Its a good thing you still have your plus one! Y/n, I'm sure he has told you about the trip this week?”
You turn to him, when he softly squeezes your hand, his eyes surprisingly vulnerable and desperate. You only nod begrudgingly.
“Um…yes! Right! The trip!��� You chuckle awkwardly.
“Great! So can you come?!”
“Oh I dont think-”
“Its so last-”
While you and Kai try to make some type of excuse, Youngsoo lets out a judgmental laugh.
“Oh come on, Saeri! Youre setting him up…Kai will probably bore her to death after a couple of hours…let alone for a week…No offense, lil cuz.”
“And I'm assuming you're the life of the party?” you ask, already growing tired of his sly comments.
He shrugs, a smile playing on his lips.
“We will be there, actually. Count us in!” Kai disrupts the tension, and you can't help but again, stare at him in shock. Saeri and Youngsoo dont seem to notice, as Saeri cheers lightly and Youngsoo rolls his eyes.
“Really?! That's great! The group is gonna be so happy to see you again Kai! Y/n, they're gonna love you! I'll have you guys added to the group chat, Kai I'll text the details, ‘kay?” She leans in to give him a kiss on the cheek, before making eye contact with you, and instead rubs his shoulder gently.
“See you there, little kai…” Youngsoo says, his smugness coming back, his smirk pissing you off.
Once they're gone, Kai and you stand in silence. Frozen by the absolute mess that is about to come. You quickly separate your hands.
“What the fuck, kai.”
“I'm so sorry.”
“You broke the rule, dude.”
“I just- he’s just...”
“No yeah, hes a fucking asshole. And Saeri?” He hasn't looked up, but you can see the frown fixed on his eyebrows.
“Oh… yeah that's, um, that's her.”
“You didn't tell me she was dating your cousin. I'm not exactly into the whole homewrecking.”
“I-” His face drops, “I didnt know either.” he puts his hand on his face, seemingly trying to wipe the look of betrayal. He sighs.
“Ill get you out of this okay… I just, in the heat of the moment…Im not boring.” his voice was no longer as excited and easy as they had been prior to the conversation. It was a nagging feeling knowing that the progress you had made with him had been deteriorating in front of you, from a relative at that.
You were starting to feel bad, watching him as he zoned out, probably thinking about the way Saeri’s thumb rubbed circles on Youngsoo’s hand, the way she would nudge him playfully, the look of pity in her eyes staring back at Kai. But you didnt know what was the best course of action, you were notorious for bad decisions according to your friends…this profession being a great example. So you stood and began to think, what do you do?
“Unless…” Kai says, focusing on the floor before looking back at you.
“Unless?”
“Y/N…double, Ill pay double.”
“Kai…what are you saying…”
“Come with me. Pretend to be my girlfriend.” His face is riddled with determination and pride, and you're once again shocked by the man standing in front of you.
“A-Are you insane?”
“Maybe. But I can't give up.”
“Kai, this is a terrible and I mean TERRIBLE idea. We're strangers, we hardly know anything about each other, and now you want me to pretend to know everything about you?”
“We can cosplay as a young couple, still feeling each other out, like we did today.”
You were staring at him in shock,not quite finding your words at the absolute ridiculousness that was spilling out of him. He's watching your eyes hopeful and you find it hard to be blunt.
You only knew one person that can lay it down thick, the only person who can handle this confrontation, with a firm stance.
—---
“So you want her,” Yunjin points at you, “to go on this friend reunion trip with you, pretending to be your girlfriend, so your cousin doesn't think you're a lying loser? ” Kai stands awkwardly, before nodding, and Yunjin stares between the two of you for a minute or two before shrugging.
“It wouldnt be a bad idea…”
“What?!”
“It would be like killing two birds with one stone… Kai doesnt look like a loser for lying about having a girlfriend and you get paid and a vacation! Aw lucky…”
“Are we forgetting the fact that the trip is THIS WEEKEND??? How the hell am I supposed to learn what a girlfriend knows in like 3 days?!”
“I-I can help you! Ill spill my guts, Ill tell you everything you need to know.”
“Kai… we can barely hold a conversation… how are we going to convince your entire friend group that we are not only compatible, but that we have feelings for each other?”
“I honestly don't know why you're so worried…you're literally in the business of cosplaying fake relationships.”
“Those are dates, not actual relationships, Yunjin.”
“Okay, so think of every day as a date?” Yunjin’s nonchalant attitude was starting to piss you off, yet you didn't know how to counter argue that, so you just sigh. You felt like you were losing a firm grip on this conversation.
“y/n, I-I know I broke the rule, and I-Im sorry, but I just really need your help…just this one week and you won't have to continue with the lessons after, I'll pay you the months worth for just this week. youngsoo…I'll just never live it down…please…I'll do anything.”
You watch him, those same unintentional puppy eyes never leaving yours, his hands intertwined together in a begging motion. You could just say no. no harm in just cutting off the deal now, telling him to get lost, you barely knew the guy, it shouldnt be that hard to do so. But having witness the small interaction and having spent all day with him and realizing that there was so much more that met the surface of him, it was hard to say no. Having this strange urge of protecting him, of helping him, it was making the rejection you had mustered up in you impossible. You finally roll your eyes.
“Dont make me regret this.”
A/N: YAYAYAY.... you made it to the end of the chapter! I had to make some type of movement in the story to get to the good stuff, perhaps next chapter we meet Kai's old friends >:3. Im excited! I hope you guys are too TEEHEE!! Anyways! tell me you love it, tell me you hate it, tell me it made your 15 min break go by slower or faster... TELL ME ANYTHING I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR IT!!
tag list ~
@imagine-this-motherfucker @winonnaa @xodidarks @taehyunluvrs
#txt x reader#txt fanfic#txt fluff#txt scenarios#txt imagines#txt x y/n#txt x you#txt imagine#hueningkai x reader#tomorrow x together#beomgyu x reader#soobin x reader#taehyun x reader#yeonjun x reader#txt post#txt drabbles#txt hard hours#txt reactions#txt smut
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love me do
summary: Logan likes to mark you.
word count: 1.6k+
pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader
notes: i don't know what came over me. i had a dream a few nights ago about logan marking you (me??) up during sex and i just couldn't get it out of my head so here ya go
warnings/tags: no use of y/n, porn with no plot, pet name (sweetheart), marking, bite marks, hickeys, lots of kissing, scent kink, fingering, slight praise kink, unprotected piv, creampie, not proofread
There was one thing that Logan did constantly: leaving marks. Whether it was hickeys or actual bite marks, your skin was constantly littered with dark marks along your neck, shoulders, chest, and even down to the plushness of your thighs.
Sometimes you wondered if he was really just teasing you or if he really enjoyed trailing his lips along your body; you got your answer fairly quickly when he plunged two fingers inside you all while kissing your jaw and down the side of your neck. His teeth grazed your skin as his lips moved lower, leaving behind more of those marks you’d come to expect.
“Logan,” you said, barely above a whisper, your hands gripping the edge of the bed beneath you.
“What?” he murmured against your neck, his voice low, almost rough. His thumb found that sensitive spot between your legs, pressing down in a way that made your breath hitch. “Can’t hear ya, sweetheart.”
You hated when he played dumb, but the heat pooling in your stomach made it hard to care. Your hips bucked slightly against his hand, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he kissed just under your ear.
“I said…” Your words were cut off by a sharp gasp as his fingers curled inside you, brushing a spot that sent a wave of pleasure through your whole body. “Oh, my God.”
“Not quite, but keep calling me that, and I might get used to it,” he teased, voice gravelly, his lips now trailing down to your collarbone.
You rolled your eyes even though they were fluttering shut. “You’re such an—”
“An what?” He pulled back just enough to look at you, raising an eyebrow. His fingers didn’t stop moving, though, and the smugness in his expression only grew when your body betrayed you, your thighs trembling around his hand.
“An asshole,” you managed to get out, though it lacked any real venom.
“Yeah? This asshole’s making you feel pretty good, though.”
You didn’t dignify that with an answer, biting your lip to stifle the noises threatening to spill out. He noticed, of course, and immediately decided to make it harder for you. His thumb circled over that sensitive spot again, this time more deliberately, and his free hand came up to hold your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“Don’t do that,” he said, his tone suddenly serious.
“Do what?”
“Hold back,” he said, his thumb pressing down a little harder as his fingers worked faster inside you. “I wanna hear you.”
The intensity in his eyes made you shiver, and any attempt at holding back crumbled. A moan slipped out, and his grin widened as he leaned in to kiss you again, this time on the lips. It was messy, all teeth and tongue, but you didn’t care.
“Good girl,” he muttered against your lips, his hand still working between your thighs.
“Logan,” you whimpered, your hands gripping his shoulders now, nails digging into his skin through his shirt.
“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice rougher now, almost like a growl.
“Logan,” you repeated, louder this time, your voice trembling as the tension in your body built to a breaking point.
“That’s it,” he said, his lips finding your neck again. “Let go for me, sweetheart.”
The way his voice dropped, combined with the relentless rhythm of his fingers, pushed you over the edge. Your whole body tensed, and a broken moan escaped your lips as the pleasure washed over you. He didn’t stop right away, working you through it until you were practically trembling beneath him.
When you finally came down, you let out a shaky breath, your forehead falling against his shoulder. His fingers slipped out of you, and he brought them to his mouth without hesitation, his eyes locked on yours as he sucked them clean.
“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, still trying to catch your breath.
“Unbelievable in a good way or a bad way?” he asked, his tone playful now as he reached up to brush a strand of hair out of your face.
“You know the answer to that,” you said, rolling your eyes.
“Do I?” He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Why don’t ya remind me?”
Before you could respond, he was pulling your legs around his waist, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you. The heat and hardness of him through his jeans made your breath hitch again, and the teasing smirk on his face told you he knew exactly what he was doing.
“Logan,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“You gonna keep teasing me, or are you gonna do something about it?”
His grin widened, and he leaned in to kiss you again, this time slower but just as intense. “Oh, I’m gonna do something about it,” he said against your lips, his hands sliding up your thighs.
Logan’s grip was firm, possessive, the rough pads of his fingers tracing up your skin like he was mapping you out. “You smell so fuckin’ good,” he murmured, his voice deep and low, the words almost growled into your ear. “Can’t get enough of you.” His lips grazed your jaw, then your neck, leaving soft kisses before his teeth nipped the sensitive skin just below your ear.
“Logan…” Your voice was shaky, breath catching in your throat when his hands hooked under your knees, spreading your legs further. You felt the heavy, warm press of him between your thighs, still confined by his jeans but unmistakably hard. The denim’s rough texture teased your skin, making you squirm beneath him.
“Patience, sweetheart,” he said, his lips quirking into a smirk as he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. He made quick work of unbuttoning his jeans, the metal clinking softly. When he shoved them down his hips, you caught sight of him—thick, hard, and already glistening at the tip.
Your breath hitched as he leaned back over you, one hand gripping your hip, the other guiding himself to your entrance. The anticipation made you ache, every nerve in your body on fire as you felt the blunt heat of him pressing against you.
“Look at me,” Logan said, his voice suddenly commanding. His fingers caught your chin, holding your face steady so your eyes stayed locked on his. “I wanna see you when I take you.”
You nodded, biting your lip as his hips shifted forward, the thick head of his cock pushing inside you slowly. The stretch was intense, almost overwhelming, but the heat in Logan’s eyes grounded you. His gaze never wavered, watching your every reaction with a mixture of hunger and something softer, deeper.
“Fuck,” he rasped, his teeth catching his bottom lip as he pushed in further. “You feel perfect.”
Your hands found his shoulders, nails digging in as he filled you inch by inch, the slow, deliberate pace making you gasp. Logan paused when he was buried fully inside, his breath heavy against your cheek. “You okay?” he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.
“Yeah,” you breathed, your voice barely audible. “Move, Logan.”
His smirk returned, but his movements stayed slow, deliberate. He pulled out almost completely before sliding back in, his hips rocking in a rhythm that had your toes curling. The drag of him against your inner walls was maddening, each stroke deliberate, like he was savoring every second.
“You like that?” he asked, his voice rough and low, his lips brushing against your ear. He didn’t wait for an answer, his teeth grazing your neck again as he set a steady pace, each thrust hitting deep and hard. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer with every movement.
“Logan—oh, God,” you gasped, your nails raking down his back. The tension in your core coiled tighter with each slow, deliberate thrust, the way his hips rolled driving you closer to the edge.
“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” Logan growled, his forehead pressing against yours. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. Fuck, I could stay buried in you forever.”
His words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, and your body arched into him, chasing every bit of contact you could get. Logan’s grip shifted, one hand sliding up to your jaw again, tilting your face toward his. His lips crashed against yours, the kiss messy and consuming, his teeth catching your bottom lip as he drove deeper into you.
“Logan,” you whimpered against his mouth, your hands gripping his shoulders, desperate for more.
“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice a rough growl. His thrusts grew harder, each one deliberate, his hips rolling in a way that had you seeing stars. “Lemme hear you.”
“Logan!” Your voice broke, your body trembling beneath him as the tension inside you snapped. The orgasm hit you like a wave, your walls clenching around him, pulling him even deeper as you cried out his name.
“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, his pace faltering as he chased his own release. “So good, sweetheart. So fuckin’ good.” His thrusts turned erratic, and with one final, deep stroke, he buried himself completely, his hips pressing flush against yours as he came with a guttural growl.
The two of you stayed like that for a moment, his body heavy on yours, his breath hot against your neck. Logan’s hand brushed against your cheek, his thumb tracing your jawline as he pulled back to look at you. “You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now.
You nodded, a tired but satisfied smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah.”
“Good,” he said, leaning down to kiss you again, this one slow and lingering, his hands never leaving your body.
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#james howlett x reader#james howlett x you#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett fic#logan howlett smut#logan howlett oneshot#wolverine smut
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Drunk Modern!Mizu with a Breeding Kink

(((Yup. I don't know what to title this short fic other than that. I let the demons win.)))
(((This turned out to have a bit of spice, a bit of fluff, a bit of my sense of humor. I will say it doesn't get smutty smutty but Mizu sure has a mouth on her. And she's determined.)))
You’re shooing Taigen and Akemi out of your apartment with a tipsy giggle at 2 am. Akemi turns and squeezes you in a warm hug. “Good night, doll! See you later!”
Taigen flashes you a peace sign before Akemi leads him, swaying and all, toward their Uber to take them away.
You watch them climb inside the car before closing the door and locking up for the night. You head into the kitchen, picking up the last of the beer bottles and tossing them in the trash.
You head into the living room where you last left Mizu, only to find her sprawled out on the floor with an arm thrown across her eyes. There’s a pink flush across the middle of her face.
“Too much whiskey, sweetheart?” you chuckle as you approach her.
“Fucking Taigen,” she mumbled, trying to angrily growl but it just sounds slurred and tired. “Fucking…drinking contest.”
You crawl over her, sitting on her hips. You do have to move carefully though, you’re just a wee bit unsteady from the amount of alcohol in your own system. “You could’ve just said no,” you hum.
Mizu remains silent. She’s probably telling herself she won’t grace your soft snark with an answer, but it’s actually cause she really doesn’t have a comeback for that.
Her arm lifts slightly higher, and she squints down at you. Her eyes drift to where you’re sitting atop her hips. Her legs shift under you.
She’s… really staring intensely at how you’re sitting on her.
You start to lift yourself up on your knees. “You good? Does it hurt?”
Mizu frowns as your weight leaves her. “No,” she says, and grabs your hips to pull you back down. “...It’s nothing.”
But you know that look. She gets it every time Taigen got under her skin about something.
“Nothing? Like a “just thinking” nothing or a “Taigen pissed in your metaphorical thinking cereal” nothing?”
Mizu’s nose scrunches up in disgust. “What?”
You press your hands to Mizu’s chest, bouncing a little for emphasis. “What. Did. He. Saaaaay?”
Your tone and actions were meant to be lighthearted, but something flashes in Mizu’s eyes when you bounce yourself on her hips. Her eyes flash back down to where you’re sitting. Her hands instinctively grab your hips to still your movement. The pink flush across her cheeks and nose seem to darken. “Fuck,” slips out from between her lips. She shakes her head. “S’ just being stupid and gross.”
You noted that little change in her voice. “Like what?”
Her thumbs run over the jut of your hips. “Some girl he hooked up with. Talking about how she had an IUD and let him cum inside.”
You sigh, “Jesus Christ, of course.”
“He’s gross.”
She keeps shifting her hips under you. “Are you sure you don’t need me to get up-?” You start lifting yourself again.
“Stop moving,” she says, and the flush on her cheeks doesn’t die down. She tries to look annoyed, but you can tell the minuscule differences in her expressions. That’s a pout more than a scowl.
You laugh breathlessly. “What’s got you so worked up?” You tap her totally not pouting lip.
She grunts, grumbling a little as her hands massage where they’re gripping your hips.
“Don’t be all huffy with me. Tell me,” you coax with a grin, your own tipsy flush complimenting your wide smile.
She rolls her head back against the carpet and is silent for a minute.
The amount of whiskey currently killing her liver is the only reason her inhibitions are loose enough to say it.
She mumbles something.
“Mizu-“
“I wanna do that.”
Your eyebrows raise into your hairline, lips parting with surprise. You need to clarify just in case you're misunderstanding. “You want to-?”
“I want to cum inside you.”
The raspiness of her voice is even grittier from the whiskey.
Holy shit.
Her irises are darker than normal, the bright blue having more the tint of stormy waters.
And whether it’s the liquid courage or Mizu’s determination to barrel through things to push through her fears, she keeps going.
Her hands are heavy as the slide up your sides. “I want to have something that I can slip inside you-“
Your heart is pounding harder in your chest from her words, her actions, the heat of her frustrated gaze. “You have several strap ons-“ you joke, but your voice is weak and airy.
“I want to feel you from the inside.” She makes a frustrated grunt, “I don’t want plastic. I want to feel you wrapped around something other than my fingers. I want to stretch you out-“
Her palms dig into your stomach. Her blue eyes flick up and meet yours, and you almost fall back away from her with how much unfiltered desire is in them. Her own breath is shallow, you can see how silently but rapidly her chest is rising and falling.
“I want there to be risk that I forget to pull out.”
Holy shIT-
“Mizu-MIZU-!”
Her hips bucked, throwing you higher up her waist with her strength. Your hands fly out to catch yourself, and your fingers hit her shoulders as she’s suddenly sitting up, face inches from yours. She’s supporting your weight in this position, hands and feet flat on the floor as you’re the unsteady one in so many ways. She looks irritated, like when she can’t bend something to her will no matter how much work she pours into it. But she also looks slightly mournful. Genuinely upset.
And very, VERY drunk.
She looks up at you with furrowed eyebrows. “I wanna see it dripping out.”
You gasp loudly as her teeth snap into your neck. It’s not a love bite, it’s possessive. It’s stinging.
But Mizu, being the complex and non one-note person she is, does let go and licks at the reddened skin in apology. “I want to leave myself behind. Inside you.” She nuzzles her nose below your ear, huffing.
Your brain is just on lag, taking several moments to catch up with each of her revealed desires. “And…” you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. “And if you got me knocked up on accident?”
Her arms squeeze tightly around you, burying her face in your shoulder. She’s silent for a heart pounding moment, you can actually FEEL her heart pounding with yours.
Her lips drag along the skin behind your ear. Her voice is low, dark. “Wouldn’t be an accident.”
Someone needs to take whiskey away from this woman. Or give it to her more. You’ll decide if you survive this encounter.
“Mizu-“ you don’t even know how to finish that sentence. You’re just… you don’t even know. You think you hear a faint ringing in your ears.
Her left hand dig into your side, gripping the fabric of your shirt. “Would you keep it?” she asks so softly.
“I-“ your brain is still on that fucking LAG.
Her breathing is slow, shuddering against your ear. “I wouldn’t make you, if you didn’t want to-“ she sounds so pained to say it your heart squeezes. You actually forget for a moment that that’s never gonna be an issue for you two.
Her grip on your shirt relaxes, before curling the fabric between her fingers tighter, clinging to you. “I’d just… beg for you to think about it,” she makes a wounded sound.
You swallow again, throat clicking. You’re becoming aware of a heat low in your abdomen growing warmer and warmer.
She holds you tighter against her, and her hips start rhythmically rolling up against yours like she’s mimicking how far she’d push inside to get what she wants. She’d work so hard for it, putting in all her time and energy and her unwavering determination-
“It’s selfish,” she’s murmuring against your skin, warm lips having traveling down to your neck. “But I’m selfish. I want it. I want it so much. I want to know there’s a little us-“ one hand goes between your bodies, fingertips pressed up under your naval like she’s obsessed. Her voice is strained. “I want to know it’s inside you. They’re inside you. I want to know they’re safe and warm. You’d keep them so warm. You’re always warm-“
You have never, in your life, ever heard Mizu babbling like this.
SHE’S STILL ROLLING HER HIPS UNDER YOU.
You finally grab her face with both hands in a rare moment of clarity to still her, forcing her head up to look at you in this haze of body heat radiating from her, from you, radiating everywhere between your bodies.
“Baby.”
Her head lolls back, looking up at you and oh my god. She is just gone. Her red cheek flush has spread to her whole face. Her lips are wet and parted, breath now audibly heavy. Her eyes, her eyes, her gorgeous blue eyes are now a storm. A dark, hot storm.
“Let me put a baby in you, dove,” her voice is strangled, slurred worse than you’ve ever heard as her half lidded eyes gaze at you.
Jesus, she’s bringing out the rare pet nickname she’s so desperate.
And just when you think Mizu is done shocking your system with this new side of her, her expression crumbles into the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.
“Please?”
She’s pleading.
What the fuck was in her whiskey?!
“I’ll-I’ll take care of the two of you. Keep you safe. Just let me- just let me-“ she lifts her hips up under you again, as if trying to tempt you into it. She hiccups. “Just spread your legs and I’ll do all the work.”
With strength she should not have while she’s absolutely smashed, she lunges forward, shoving you to the carpet with your legs spread around her waist. Her hot breath fans over your face, tinted with whiskey. She wets her lips. “Have my baby. Say yes.” Her hips press down into yours again. She whispers your name.
You’re tempted to say yes, despite still being sober enough to remember the logistics of this. She makes a very persuasive case. And it’s not just cause she’s grinding into you like she’s warming up to do it.
"Say yes..."
Click!
You both slowly look up (you more tilting your head back) as the front door opens and Mizu’s roommate Ringo comes in. He freezes in the doorway, seeing Mizu crouched over you in a very interesting position with your legs still spread by her thighs.
She scowls at him. “You said you weren’t coming back tonight!” She sways over you.
Ringo blinks. “Mom has Bingo in the morning,” he says innocently. “… did something happen?”
“She’s pregnant,” Mizu hiccups, before passing out atop you without warning, shoving a strangled noise out of your chest as you yell for Ringo’s help.
“Oh? Congratulations!”
“….Wait…?”
“RINGO HELP!”
In the morning, Mizu drags herself into the living room looking like she was just brought back from the dead, face drained of color and eyes squinting at the light behind her tinted glasses.
“Hi baby,” you greet her softly, cautiously as you watch her head to the kitchen, aiming for the coffee pot.
“Hi,” she groans. “I’m never fucking doing a drinking contest with that bastard again.”
You nod, “That sounds good."
You pause, "Do you remember anything from last night?”
She shrugs as she passes you. “Barely.” She disappears into the kitchen.
“Oh,” you turn toward her retreating back, propping your chin in your hand as you lean against the back of the couch. You wait until she’s out of sight to oh so innocent call out “I wanted to ask about how you were begging to impregnate me.”
Several loud crashes in the kitchen.
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LET THEM SEE - LN4

summary : The paparazzi can’t seem to stay away from Lando. He’s had enough after being caught with you on a balcony in paris.
listen up : no warnings!! pretty sweet and short <3 tiny amount of smau!
word count : 435
⋆。‧˚⋆
“Fuck- Lan.” I sigh, turning on the balcony and looking into our hotel room. “Forget you’re famous sometimes.” I wipe my mouth, Lando just kissed me and I know for sure the paparazzi got it.
I watch him confidently lean against the railing, in only a towel. I’m much more covered in a fluffy robe and a lush towel on my head. He just turns his head towards me, I roll my eyes at his look, “I thought you didn’t want to be seen with me. This is sort of ruining that.”
He mimics my eye roll, lazily moving closer to me and placing his hands on each side of me, leaning down, “Let them see us.”
“Lando.” I give a stern look, pretending my cheeks aren’t getting hot.
“We can go inside and it’ll be posted that I'm with some random girl. Or…” He leans in closer, a smirk playing at his lips.
“Let them see us.” I whisper and he scrunches his face again, I laugh but he’s already kissing me.
I hear the snaps of the cameras, hear Lando’s muffled chuckle against me.
He pushes his lips against me harder, his hand moving to my clothed waist.
I barely realize that he’s spinning me around and lifting me up, his arms around my waist as I scream at the sudden movement.
His face is buried in my neck, kissing it as I giggle and flip off the cameras. He backs up into our room, shutting the sliding door with more force than he intends and setting me now.
“You love stirring up shit.” I lay back on the back, unraveling the towel on my head.
He bites his lip, looking down at me like i’m a treat. “Maybe. But it’s my shit to stir.” He climbs over me, the towel on his waist loose so my eyes stray down.
“Yours?” I giggle as he continues to kiss my neck, he mumbles a yes into my skin, his hands slipping under my robe and getting lost on my body.
⋆。‧˚⋆
F1GOSSIPTODAY

liked by lanfan44 and 2,027 others… f1gossiptoday BREAKING!! Lando Norris has been seen around Paris with a mysterious second on his trip. Photos have confirmed his friend is up and coming model Y/n L/n after the two were seen kissing on their hotel balcony! The two were shown laughing and making a certain crude gesture to the cameras before going back to their hideaway. This has many people in an uproar but their shippers are definitely having a good day!
@Lanfan44 : HOLY SHIT
@ y/nforever : WHAT THE HELL ITS ACTUALLY REAL MY PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED
↳ @cheezeylan : BEST DAY OF MY LIFE ACTUALLY
@ maxfewtrell : @ landonorris THIS is how I find out?? jeez you’d think we’re not friends🙄
↳ @ formulag!rl : HAHHAHA
↳ @norstappenloser : LMAO CLOCK HIS TEA
@nickipia81 : okay why is this the first thing i see #imsosinglewtf
@f1maxanddanny : snooze who cares
↳ @ charlesleclerc : me
↳ @ maxverstappn : me
↳ @ alexalbon : me
↳ @ oscarpiastri : me
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#lando x reader#f1 fic#lando imagine#smau
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The Edge of Patience
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Synopsis: You’re no stranger to the overprotective nature of your boyfriend, Bucky Barnes. After a heated argument about wanting to join him and Sam on their missions, you knowingly push his buttons until his patience snaps. What starts as a battle of wills turns into a raw, unrestrained encounter—punishing, heated, and entirely irresistible.
Word Count: 1.8k
Author’s note: This is my first Bucky Barnes fanfic, so bear with me. If you have any requests or ideas, please send them my way - I’d be happy to get my Bucky obsession out into more fics! B xx
The argument was still fresh, the tension lingering in the room like static electricity. I could feel it in the way Bucky was moving—too stiff, too deliberate—as he paced back and forth. His shoulders were squared, his jaw set, and his hands, one flesh and one metal, flexed and curled at his sides.
“You’re not doing this, doll,” he said, voice low and clipped.
“Why not?” I crossed my arms and met his glare head-on. “I’m not fragile, Bucky. I can handle myself.”
“You don’t understand what you’re asking for,” he snapped, stopping mid-stride to pin me with his icy stare. “You think this is some kind of game? You want to be in the middle of a firefight with me? With Sam? You think that’s a good idea?”
“I think you’re underestimating me.” I knew I was pushing him, testing the limits of his patience. But part of me wanted this, craved this. The way he tensed, the way his control slipped just a little when I got under his skin—it was intoxicating.
His nostrils flared, his teeth grinding audibly as he stepped closer. “You don’t listen. You never fucking listen.”
“Maybe if you actually talked to me like a partner instead of some porcelain doll, I’d have a reason to.”
His glare sharpened, and for a moment, I thought he might lose it completely. But instead, he took a deep breath, his jaw working furiously as he fought to reel himself back in.
“I’m done arguing about this,” he said finally, his voice dangerously calm. “Drop it.”
But I didn’t. Not until I saw that last thread of his control snap.
It happened fast after that.
We didn’t even make it to the bed. Bucky had me against the wall, one hand curled around my neck, the other tearing at the waistband of my pants. His grip was firm, just shy of too tight, and his metal fingers pressed cool and unyielding against my skin.
“This what you wanted, doll?” His voice was a low growl, and his breath was hot against my ear. “Is this why you were being a little brat?”
I gasped as he pushed my legs apart, his knee driving between my thighs to hold me steady.
“Bucky—”
“No,” he bit out, his hand tightening around my neck just enough to make my words falter. “You don’t get to play innocent now.”
He thrust into me hard and fast, no warning, no hesitation. My head fell back against the wall, a cry spilling from my lips as he set a punishing rhythm.
“This what you wanted?” he snarled, his metal hand sliding down to grip my hip, holding me in place as he drove into me again and again. “Wanted me to lose my patience, huh? Wanted to see how far you could push me?”
I couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. Every thrust knocked the air from my lungs, the sheer force of him overwhelming in the best, most torturous way.
“Look at you,” he growled, his hand leaving my hip to grip the back of my thigh, pulling my leg higher to angle me even closer. “You’re so fucking needy. You piss me off, and now you’re begging for it.”
“I’m not—”
“Don’t lie to me.” His grip on my throat tightened just enough to cut me off, his lips curling into a wicked smirk as he watched my eyes flutter shut. “You like this. Don’t you, doll?”
I whimpered, my nails digging into his shoulders as I struggled to find any sort of control. But he wasn’t giving me an inch.
“Answer me,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding.
“Yes,” I gasped, the word barely audible.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, I like it.”
He rewarded me with a particularly brutal thrust, a sharp cry tearing from my throat. “That’s my girl,” he muttered darkly, his lips grazing the shell of my ear.
The edge of his control was razor-thin, and I could feel it in every rough touch, every growled word. He wasn’t holding back, wasn’t pretending to be gentle. And God, it was perfect.
He fucked me like he was trying to prove a point, like he needed me to understand the consequences of pushing him too far. And maybe I did. But I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t do it again in a heartbeat.
“Next time,” he said, his voice tight and low as he buried himself deep inside me, “think twice before you try to test me.”
I could only nod, my body trembling as he finally slowed, his forehead dropping to rest against mine.
But I knew better than to make promises I couldn’t keep.
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Please me, baby (l.hs)

You text Heeseung to come over after struggling to get him off your mind and not to your surprise, he shows up, fulfilling your fantasy.
PAIRINGS - brother's bsf!heeseung x fem!reader
GENRE - brother's best friend, smut
WARNINGS - smut (mdni), blowjob, handjob, deep throating, cum swallowing, dirty talking, pet names, Imk if i missed anything!
WC - 1.4k
A/N — hey guys! if this seems familiar, its another smut chapter to my wattpad series "My Secret Lover." if you wanna know what happens next, go check it out at lheesluv on wattpad.
© All rights reserved Iheesluv do not copy, repost, or translate.
You quickly ran downstairs without making a commotion and opened the door for Heeseung. "You came." you breathed out, looking up at him. He smirks and makes his way in.
You quietly closed the door, not wanting to reveal that Heeseung is here. You pulled Heeseung up to your room and shut your door. You turned around and you were surprised to see him so close to you.
You wanted to walk away but your back hit the door. He leaned close to your ear and whispered in the most alluring way, "You want me?"
You know you texted him to come here but you didn't think he actually would. All your confidence died down and you felt shy. You sent him that message without thinking.
"I— uhm... hey?" Heeseung chuckles at you and backs away. "Shy now, aren't you, darling." You only looked into his eyes feeling flustered. Your room was kind of dark. Only the dim light of the sun setting was shining through your window.
"What were you thinking about before you texted me that, hm?" You hesitated to answer him. "Nothing," you quickly said and broke eye contact with him. You heard him hum then felt his presence get closer to you.
"That doesn't sound so promising, darling."
Your eyes that were once focused on the floor looked up and saw his face centimeters away from mine. "Would you like to know what I was doing?" You asked him, suddenly feeling confident.
You got on your toes and whispered in his ear. "I was thinking about doing things with you." You saw his facial expression change once you got back on your feet.
His lips curved into a cocky smile. He placed his hands on your waist, keeping you close. He then leaned into the crook of your neck and started leaving kisses. Your hands naturally reached for his shoulder and held your grip there.
Your breathing got heavy when you felt him tease you. "What were you thinking about us specifically, Y/n." You didn't want to respond but the things he is doing to you right now persuaded you enough without you thinking.
"Giving you a blowjob," you blurt out, sighing at the feeling of his lips against your skin. He met eyes with yours as he softly caressed your waist. "Is that so? That sounded promising."
There was a moment of silence. It was just you two and your eyes talking to each other. Before you knew iit, your lips were on his. Your lips moved against each other with desperation.
He suddenly lifted you up and walked to your bed, not breaking the kiss. He drops you on your bed and hovers on top of you. One of his hands slips under your t-shirt and starts kneading your breast.
You gasped against his lips, giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue in. You kept on making out until you felt his boner against you. He pulled away and looked at you, panting.
"Are you going to fulfill your imagination, darling?"
And with that you pushed him off of you and had him sit on your bed. You got on your knees in front of him and impatiently pulled down his sweatpants — along with his boxers.
You hear him sigh in relief once his hard on is released free. You were frozen for a second. Your eyes never left his length. His chuckle set you back in reality. You looked up at him — who was now sitting on the edge of your bed and blinked a few times.
He stared down at you between his legs with lustful eyes. Your hand was hesitant at first, but eventually wrapped around his hard cock. You heard Heeseung inhale from the unknown touch in the quiet room.
From there, your hand started to pump up and down his length. You observed the head of his cock disappear in your hand every time your hand moved up and down his erection. The tip of his cock was leaking with precum and was red. Oddly enough, it turned you on.
Your eyes then looked up at him. His eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly opened, letting his heavy pants escape. In this quiet room, all you were able to hear was Heeseung's heavy breathing and the wet sound of his precum in your hand.
Your thumb brushed past his sticky tip as your eyes never left him. His jaw dropped when he felt your thumb brush past his sensitive spot. His eyebrows knitted in pleasure. "Don't fucking tease," Heeseung managed to say, tightening his jaw.
Having him feel vulnerable under your touch gave you a confidence boost. You giggled, "I'll suck you real good, pretty boy."
You stuck my tongue out and let the head of his cock settle on your tongue. You swirl your tongue around the tip, receiving a sigh of satisfaction from Heeseung.
You wanted to tease him more, but one of his hands moved to your head. In a gentle — yet forceful way, he pushed your head down, allowing you to take half of his cock in your mouth.
You heard him let out a shaky breath. You moved your head up and down his length, along with the guidance of his hand pushing your head. You took your hand to stroke the base of his cock, not able to take more of him in your mouth.
"Fuck, Y/n. Keep g-going," Heeseung stutters, his hips involuntarily bucking up. You hummed against his cock, sending vibrations that made him moan.
Hearing him let out such lewd sounds only made you want to satisfy him even more. So, you tried to take more of him. "Y/n— You don't have to— oh shit." And with that you felt the head of his cock hit the back of your throat.
Your gag reflex was triggered and tears welled up in your eyes. Your nails dug into his inner thigh at the feeling. Despite the feeling, Heeseung enjoyed the pleasure that came with it so you didn't care.
You looked up at him with his cock stuffed in your mouth with teary eyes. And honestly...he looked so damn hot right now. His hooded eyes looked down at you. His mouth parted with heavy breathing. His cheeks had a tint of redness. His raspy voice when he tried to speak. And, him. Everything about him just looked so attractive.
His eyes that were filled with lust became even more lustful, if that was even possible. "Fucking hell, you take me so well, baby," he confesses, gripping your hair. "You look so goddamn sexy with my cock stuffed in your mouth like that."
His praises made you moan against his length. You bobbed your head up and down faster until you heard him vocalize in ecstasy. Though you loved hearing him, he needed to be quiet. You pulled away, but kept on jerking him off.
"Shh. You don't want us to get caught, do you?" Heeseung then bites his bottom lip to suppress his moans. Your hand kept on moving up and down his length. It was sticky and wet with your saliva and his precum. The wet noise echoed in your room.
"H-holy shit." He brings his hand back to your head and pushes you down onto his cock. His hips started to fuck himself in your mouth and you felt him twitch. His breathing got inconsistent and faster. His grip on your hair got tighter.
He was getting closer and closer to his high and you wanted him to cum. Now. You sped up your movements that had him gasp with stuttered moans. "Want your cum," you mumbled against his cock and continued deep throating him.
"Oh fuck, pretty, I-I'm cumming," He sputters out in such a way it made your stomach turn and made you wet. You felt his warm cum fill your mouth full, fulfilling your needs. You swallowed his load and pulled away with a string of saliva connecting from the tip of his cock.
You kept on pumping him for a few more seconds to ride out his high. His hand wrapped around your hand that was jerking him off and squished it to stop you from moving. His heavy breathing soon returned to normal and the room was quiet once again.
Heeseung looked at you with tired eyes, but gave you a weak smile. "You look so sexy right now," you confessed and licked the corner of your lips to get the rest of his cum. He chuckled and pulled you on top of him into a hug.
"You did amazing, darling."
#enhypen imagines#enhypen smut#heeseung smut#heeseung imagines#heeseung hard thoughts#heeseung hard hours#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen x you#enhypen x reader#lee heeseung smut#heeseung x you#heeseung x reader#heeseung fanfic#heeseung au#enhypen au#enhypen heeseung smut#enhypen heeseung#enhypen fanfiction
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how about emo hot skater boy Jake with a massive dick energy and idk maybe like a kinda cocky reader who doesn't believe skater boy Jake is huge and he has to show the reader (who might be acting like a brat) what they're missing could be interesting
EMO SKATER!JAKE who's honestly kind of a loser when you really think about it. he's got his friend group and even if he's quite famous for his unconventional style, none of these people are really friends with him. he spends all his days either listening to music and trying to learn guitar, or skating and perfecting his tricks.
what is maddening is how hot he is despite all of that. you cannot help but stare at him every time you find yourself practicing at the skatepark at the same time as him. however, you don't want to let him know that you're kind of attracted to him. so instead, you always tease him about his style - even if it suits him perfectly - or the fact that he's probably still a virgin with a cocky smirk on your face.
jake usually puts up with your bratty attitude because he knows that what you say is not true, and because he's pretty sure you don't think a word of it. he might look like a loser but he's not an idiot - he can feel the way you're often staring at him. however the jokes about him being inexperienced are getting quite old.
"i'm probably the first girl you talked to in real life though, so i'm not surprised you're still a virgin." jake sighs as you grinned at him with a glint of mischief in your eyes, but he has had enough of your temperament. "actually, that's not what they all said when they saw how big i was baby." the pet name he always gives you and that made your skin hitch at the beginning is slowly growing on you, now making a shiver run down your spine. but you try to stay focused, even if the way jake is looking at you and licking his lips makes it hard to concentrate on forming coherent sentences. "pff ! you ? a big cock ? that's pretty hilarious at least, i have to give you that."
jake rolls his eyes at you, and you try not to move as he gets closer, but you still fall from your board. but the boy in front of you is quick to wrap an arm around your waist and save you from an unwanted meet up with the ground. jake takes this as an opportunity to let his lips brush against your cheek, his long, soft brown hair tickling your face he whispers in your ear : "maybe i should show you how huge i am if you still don't believe me. maybe you'll finally shut up once i got your tight pussy stretched open on my dick."
the air around you seems to thicken, and you cannot breathe properly anymore as jake starts to suck and lick your neck. heat rises to your face, both from his dirty proposal and his kisses that make arousal pool into your underwear. "so what now baby ? cat got your tongue ?" his condescending tone as he bites down on the flesh just under your jaw finally shakes you out of your slumber - even if you had to hold back a whimper the moment his teeth grazed your skin. "i bet you couldn't even make me cum, you're such a loser jake." - "bet darling."
that's how you found yourself in the backseat of his car, ass up in the air and face down buried into one of his sweater, his scent maybe driving even more insane than his actually very big cock thrusting into you at a rapid pace. "not so cocky now, uh ? all you needed was an inch of my dick to shut up." and you want to answer, you want to deny, but at this point, you're only able to moan and bite the inside of your cheeks to not let any more sounds slip past your lips. "fuck… you're such a whore y/n."
you feel jake leaning forward, one of his hands still gripping your hips tightly and the other clenching at the door of the car for some more leverage. his firm abs are pressed against the small of your back, and his hot stammered breath is crashing right against your ear - you feel overstimulated in the best way possible. "admit it now baby." - "n-no !" - "come on, you can feel how deep i am right ? you can feel how much i'm stretching out your tight little cunt, don't lie." but you still shake your head, choking on your words as you try to disagree again, instead cut by a loud moan when jake hits your sweet spot. you clench even tighter around him, and he cannot hold back the low, throaty groan slipping past his lips.
"you're so tight baby, must feel good to be this full." yes, it really does, but you don't want to admit it - as if the tears rolling down your cheeks and the way your lips are bleeding from biting them too much are not enough proof. "n-no, don't like it…" - "you're such a bad liar, y/n, it's pathetic." and then he resumes his rhythmic thrusts, hitting your sweet spot precisely each and every time, and it becomes way harder to hold back your noises. your fists close around the material of his hoodie, burying your face into his intoxicating scent in an attempt to drown out your whines. "j-jake… s-stop, i'm…" you have to mentally stop yourself from saying the words, but you can almost feel the way jake smirks against the skin of your neck that he's been biting and licking at. "what was that baby ? are you close ?" you shake your head no again, and jake's smirk is growing as he stops moving completely, cock sitting deep inside of you. "then i'll stop if you don't want to cum."
your reaction is immediate : you whine loudly when you feel him start to pull out, even more tears gathering in your eyes. "no, no, no, no ! jake, wait !" - "what is it now ?" your voice is quiet when you answer, but jake still hears it clearly : "wanna cum… please." the beg falling past your lips entices him into thrusting back into you full force and this time you don't even make an attempt at keeping your voice down, screaming out his name so loud that everyone in the parking lot must have heard you. "admit it, baby. say that i'm big and then i'll let you cum." you don't want to, but the way he's rutting his hips into you and driving you closer and closer to your orgasm is getting to your head, your mind fogged up by lust. "s-so big jake, so fucking big, feels so good… please, please…" - "now that's a good girl. cum."
the simple command is enough for you to let go, his name slipping past your lips again as you grip his cock even tighter, making it almost impossible for jake to move. but the way you become putty in his hands feels even better. what he loves the most though is the way you're too weak to push him away when he thrusts inside of you again, seeing your body visibly tremble as he starts to fuck you again. "i'm gonna give you my cum, make you even more full of me. maybe that'll keep your mouth shut a little longer baby." you hardly comprehend the meaning of his words, but you don't really care when jake is moaning about how good you're squeezing him, you don't really care when he quickly brings you to the brink of another orgasm. you don't really care because you know that you'll be teasing him again the next morning, hoping that he'll fuck you in the backseat of his car all over again.
#i went overboard with this one but the thought made me dizzy#thank you for your service anonie#eli answering your questions#eli's anonie#enhypen x reader#enhypen smut#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enha x reader#enha smut#enha hard hours#enha hard thoughts#jake x reader#sim jaeyun#jake smut#jake hard hours#jake hard thoughts
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ballin' pt.2 | p.b



"i just finished on you, i just did it on you"
paring: paige bueckers x fem!reader
warnings: smut, fluff, dom!paige, sex, strap usage, dirty talk, hair pulling, oral (both receiving.. partially), spanking, squirting, gets a little sappy at the end ofc, if i missed anything feel free to lmk!
word count: 2.5k
summary: your girlfriend reminds you just how much she loves you and only you.
author's note: pt.2 is here! i hope it ends up being everything y'all hoped for, if not more. feedback is appreciated as always and feel free to send asks with regards to this fic or maybe even something else you think i could write. alright, enough yapping from me..enjoy! x (once again if you hate it do NAWT fucking tell me)
read the first part here
“we’re not even close to done. strip.”
she looks up at you, demanding, anticipating. already ridding herself of the rest of her clothes.
reaching behind you undo the knot at the nape of your neck. your dress falls, finally revealing your top half completely. paige leans up to attach her mouth to one of your nipples, always quick to give them her undivided attention.
“every part of you is so perfect baby, fuck.” she moans, mouth open and her tongue out circling your hardened buds.
your hand holds the back of her head, pushing her farther into your cleavage. your head lulls back, mouth open in a silent moan at the feeling of her hot mouth on your skin and the cool air that follows when she switches from right to left.
paige slides to the edge of the bed, forcing you to stand so the rest of your dress could fall, pooling at your feet. she pulls her head back from your chest and her eyes are met with you fully naked for the first time tonight.
your heart hammers in your chest as she eyes from head to toe, her bottom lip between her teeth when she catches a glimpse of your folds. placing a hand under her chin you lean down to bring your lips to hers once more. almost as if for good measure, ensuring that this moment was real. when you stand again you already see her reaching towards your bedside table for a certain detachable piece of silicone.
“p, can i help you put it on?” you utter, voice lower than you realized.
with a slight nod she beckons you closer, but not before stopping you a few inches from her with an extended hand on your hip.
“on your knees.”
not even needing her to finish saying all three words you dropped down, eye to eye with the harness and strap in her hands. grabbing it from her you begin to secure it. stopping when it was on her, you trail languid kisses up and down her upper thighs and hips, hands sliding up her abs and resting just underneath the curve of her tits.
with a hand on the side of your face she forces you to look up at her.
“i’m getting impatient.”
“oh and you were talking about me earlier?” you asked, leaving another kiss on her lower stomach right above the strap harness.
“how about you put your mouth to work on my shit instead of running it so much, hmm?” paige grabs you by the crown of your head. not even waiting for an answer from you.
wetting your lips you wrap them around the tip, moaning at weight on your tongue. gradually taking more of “her” in your mouth you make the mistake of looking up to gauge any reactions she might be having. she’s already looking back at you.
forcing your head down until your nose meets her stomach and you’re gagging she begins to rut into your mouth a little, relishing in the gurgling noises coming from you.
“fuck, that’s right baby. get it wet.” she hisses, only throwing her head back momentarily before gazing down at you again.
paige and her strap were almost inseparable. any time she got the opportunity to fuck you with it, it became an extension of her. if you hadn’t known any better you’d think that she could actually feel it. that’s just how she was.
“hmm, i think that’s enough?” she questions, a smirk painting her lips. with her hand now on your ponytail she’s tugging you off of her cock. you whine a little as you feel drool slipping past your lips and dripping down your chin slightly.
“if this shit was really mine i’d cum all over your face right now,” paige starts.
she can see how you press your thighs together even tighter, your clit begging for some kind of attention.
“i know you’d look perfect. you’re already sucking me off like your life depends on it, imagine you covered in my cum.”
“p…baby please” you huff, already wet all over again and ready to be filled to the brim.
“you know i like it when you beg.” she says, roughly bringing you to your feet with that same hand holding onto your hair. as soon as you’re standing you're pushed on to the bed again. you don’t even need her to tell you before you’re on your hands and knees with your ass in the air.
you hear her take in a sharp breath before you feel her hand come down on your ass, the now lubricated tip teasingly rubbing up and down your sopping wet cunt. you almost fall right into your stomach at the contact, letting out a mix of a whine and a groan.
she leans down, her chest pressed against your back as she uses her hand to continue dragging the strap through your folds.
“c'mon baby, gotta tell me how bad you want it.” she whispers in your ear.
instinctively pushing back into her you huff a bit, knowing that you needed to say something because she absolutely would drag this out.
“paige, fuck– please i need it, i wanna feel you so bad, i need you inside me now.”
“more.”
oh my god.
“nobody fucks me like you do baby, i’ve been thinking about this all night, please”
“you sound so pretty like this princess.” you can almost hear the grin in her voice.
as your brain registers the praise you feel her roll her hips forward, immediately bottoming out.
your jaw goes slack and you feel like you could scream but the lack of air in your lungs from the sharp breath you’ve just taken in makes it a little hard.
“shit, look at how you’re sucking me in already.” she groans, eyes never leaving your pussy as it swallows her inch by inch.
it doesn’t even take her a few strokes before she has one hand gripping tightly onto your hip and another pressing down on your shoulder blades to keep your back arched. she’s plowing into you at this point.
you can’t control the noises that leave you. from the squelching of your pussy and whatever manages to come out of your mouth it's all extremely lewd, the thought of how loud you’re being never crosses your mind.
“tell me how it feels.” she demands.
you try to speak but the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a whine as you face plant into the mattress.
not going for that paige grabs onto your ponytail, yanking you back until your body is pressed against hers. her thrusts don’t still or slow.
“am i fucking you dumb baby? better say something or i’ll stop.” she pants into your ear, tonguing your earlobe.
“mmm– it feels so good p, please don’t stop!” you yelp, as she releases her hold on you pushing you down into the mattress, somehow pumping into you faster.
“i can’t. believe. you. think. i. would. ever. want. to. fuck. somebody. else.” she says, punctuating each word with a thrust into your leaking hole, each stroke surprisingly feeling deeper than the last.
she brings down a hand to your clit, making tight circles upon contact.
“paige!” you gasp, reaching back to attempt to get a hand on her stomach to disrupt her thrusts. she immediately moves it away, smacking her lips together.
“you wanted it, so take it. don’t ever try to push me away.” she mutters, one hand now holding yours behind your back.
your chest is burning from how hard you’re breathing, your throat dry because you can’t keep your mouth closed, drool pooling beneath you on the duvet.
paige uses her free hand to deliver a quick slap to your clit, causing you to produce a moan that’s borderline pornographic.
she watches you clench around her.
“you liked that?” she lets out almost mocking you.
“yes, oh my god–YES”
your feel her fingers on your clit again and you screw your eyes shut.
“p, you'resogood–shit please don’t stop, i’m gonna cum!” your words now slurred together.
“i bet you are. c’mon, give it to me.” she moans, getting off on the sight of you like this.
paige doesn’t let up and soon you’re panting ridiculously fast as you feel static from your head to your toes, creaming her strap.
“oh baby, look at you…so messy.” paige groans, slowing her thrusts to get you through your high but never coming to a complete stop. just milking you.
after a few more delicate thrusts paige pulls out of you and watches your hole clench and unclench, muttering a breathy “fuck” from behind you.
she helps you roll onto your side to catch your breath as you collapse. you can’t help but grin to yourself like an idiot. you feel her peppering feather light kisses all over your forehead, cheeks, and down your neck as you relish in the feeling of your orgasm.
“i do remember you sayin' sumn about how you wanted to fuck me until you pass out...” you hear from the foot of the bed.
lifting your head slightly you see her reaching out to grab your ankles and pull you towards the foot of the bed once more.
“what are you–“
“let me clean up the mess you made.”
your eyes go wide as paige spreads your legs rather gently placing kiss after kiss to both your inner thighs, her veiny hands firm in their hold on you to ensure that you can’t squirm out of her reach.
your breathing is airy and uneven again when you feel her getting closer and closer to your cunt, obviously still covered in cum.
“paige, i don’t know if i can–“
“you can. and you will. one more and then i’m done with you…for tonight.” she responds, not entertaining the idea of you getting out of this.
her breath is hot, hovering over you. you weakly lift yourself only your elbows to watch as her tongue wets her bottom lip and juts out once more to lick up your pussy from your leaking hole to your clit.
you gasp loudly, your head falling to one shoulder. paige’s eyes are low as she holds eye contact with you for a second. she moans and they immediately shut when she tastes you.
she sucks your clit between her lips before circling her tongue around it a few times, you moan and your legs threaten to clamp shut around her head but her hands are there to pry them wide open again.
you let yourself fall off of your elbows, chest heaving and you let out a whimper when she pumps her tongue into your hole.
you’re so sensitive this brings tears to your eye. you reach down and tangle your hands in her hair that’s a mess now, vastly contrasting how it looked earlier in the night. you think about pushing her head away but as much as it hurts it feels so good.
you feel greedy almost. already chasing your third orgasm of the night.
pulling back from her assault on your clit paige uses two fingers to circle your hole teasingly and then spread your folds. she gathers all of the saliva in her mouth before pursing her lips and spitting onto your cunt, connecting her mouth to you again shaking her head from side to side.
your eyes roll back into your head and a noise leaves your mouth, half a moan and half a sob.
“shit–baby i’m close please don’t stop”
using the same hand that was just in you, paige reaches up to pinch one of your nipples. her mouth never faltering in motion.
this sends you over the edge. covering her hand with yours you’re screaming her name as tears roll down your cheeks. your back arches off of the bed as paige’s tight grip holds you down.
your eyes are so far into the back of your head that you think you see white for a second. then your stomach is tight and you get a sudden and overwhelming urge to pee.
that’s not what’s happening.
paige’s mouth is wide open as you squirt, covering her chin, her chest, and the sheets beneath you. if you had the mental capacity to give a fuck you’d be a little shocked but right now it didn’t matter.
you can’t help but sob uncontrollably now, your pussy worn out and the rest of your body exhausted as well. paige disconnects herself from your lower half and is quick to hover over you kissing away any tears that continue to fall. she’s cooing in your ear in admiration, still a bit in awe herself.
“shh, it’s okay. you did so good for me baby, took it like a fucking champ.” she whispers, laying beside you whilst laying an arm over your midsection as you begin to calm down.
you’re nothing but a sniffling mess but you try to pry your eyes open and you get a slight glimpse into the same blue ones that got you in this position.
leaning in paige places the softest kiss possible on your lips. you kiss back with the last bit of energy you have left before taking a deep breath as everything around you fades.
you don’t know how much time passes but when you blink back to consciousness you’ve been wiped down and you’re wearing clean clothes. your head rests on paige’s chest and her fingers trace shapes into the skin that’s exposed at your hip with your shirt ridden up.
turning your head slightly, careful not to disturb paige as you can tell she’s in and out of sleep herself.
“look who finally decided to wake up,” she teases, “i got a little scared when your eyes closed and didn’t open again but when i realized you actually did pass out i had to stop myself from laughing.”
in disbelief you smack your lips and push at her chest, “you’re fucking ridiculous.” you say before also letting out a chuckle of your own at the irony of the situation.
“no, it seems like i…fuck ridiculous.”
“there’s no way you’re dead ass right now.”
“oh but i am.”
ignoring the way you roll your eyes she pulls you closer to her with the same hand that was already on your hip. kissing your forehead and resting her head atop yours.
“thank you for tonight,” she whispers, grinning when you instinctively lift one leg to wrap around her waist, getting as close and comfortable as possible.
“i should be thanking you,” you begin to respond before yawning and burying your head into the crook of her neck. “tonight was perfect, i don't think i've ever cum that hard in my life.”
"you're welcome, you know i'm always at your service."
chuckling again in disbelief you gaze up at her one more time.
“i love you.”
"and i love you. only you, forever and always you. never forget it.”
you both finally shut your eyes and the night ends somehow better than you could’ve possibly imagined. you’re fed, fucked out, and quite literally wrapped in love.
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers smut#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers x fem!reader#paige x reader#paige bueckers fic#wlw fiction#wcbb x reader#wcbb smut#bdbueckers🍓#namz🍓
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brother's prejudice — max fewtrell
pairings. max fewtrell x norris!fem!reader, lando norris x twin!fem!reader
summary. you have always been happy to support lando in any way you can but when he can't give that same support back when your relationship with his best friend is revealed, you're left wondering if your relationship with your twin brother will ever be the same. 4.2k, 18+
playlist. "idfc" by blackbear, "the heart wants what it wants" by selena gomez, "our song" by taylor swift, "it will come back" by hozier, "make me like you" by gwen stefani
warnings. lando's a bit of a dick but he makes up for it, censored oral (male receiving)
masterlist.
. . .
"Do you want me to suck your dick or do you want to watch Markiplier?"
"Do you want an honest answer?"
You huffed, and started to get out of bed. "I'm going to take a shower."
"No, baby, I'm just kidding."
Max grabbed hold of your hand before you even fully got to your feet. He tugged you back onto the mattress, pushed you down and hovered over you.
"You're too late. The moment is gone," you said.
"I'm sorry."
He tried to kiss you but only got your cheek when you turned your head to the side.
"Baby, don't be like that. C'mon."
He kissed your neck and your breath caught in your throat because you were just a girl. You were just a weak girl when it came to Max.
"I love you," he said into the skin of your neck.
"Hm," you pretended to consider it, "Apology accepted. Lay down, drama queen."
You pushed at Max's shoulder and he let you get on top of him. You grabbed a hair tie from the nightstand to pull your hair back with.
Max let his hands slide under your shirt—which was actually his shirt, which was why he was only in his sleep shorts at the moment. He freely let himself feel you up as you tied your hair up, squeezing your thighs and hips, your ass and up to your boobs.
"You've got to stop groping me if you want me to give you a blowjob."
"But you know how much I love groping you."
You laughed and pulled his hands out of your shirt. You intertwined your fingers with his, leaned down to kiss his nose.
"You're really making it seem like you don't want me to suck you off."
"I never said that."
You kissed the knuckles on each of Max's hands before shimmying further down the bed, pulling the blankets with you. Soon, the only sounds in the room were Max's sighs of pleasure and the lewd, wet noises coming from your mouth.
Then, someone with the spare keycard to Max's hotel room unlocked the door and entered without knocking.
"Max, mate, the plane's leaving at ten, not eleven, apparently. I tried texting you in the group chat but—what. The. Fuck."
Thank god Lando was a naturally loud individual, giving just enough time for you to sit up and wipe your mouth, for Max to pull his shorts back up. You both faced Lando with similar caught expressions, still tangled up in bed together but thankfully without your lips currently around Max’s dick.
"Are you actually kidding me? My sister? What the fuck, mate?"
You jumped in to try and defuse the situation before it escalated. "Lando, just wait a second. Let me explain—"
Lando cut you a harsh glare. "I'm not fucking talking to you. We can talk about you acting like a slag later."
You drew back, more than a little hurt at your twin's words and the tone in which he said them.
"Don't talk to her like that," Max stood up for you.
"That's really what you're worried about right now?"
"That you're calling your sister a slag? Yeah, it is."
"What the fuck is going on? You get busy with the one girl that has always been off limits and you think you're some sort of knight in shining armor?"
"Let's just all wait a second. Yeah? Let's just take a breath."
“Shut up, Y/N.”
“Lando, if you think—“
“Please don’t argue, Max—“
“He’s being a fucking dick to you, Y/N—“
“I’m being the dick? You’re shagging my sister—“
“That’s no excuse to talk to her like that—“
“It’s not like that—“
“How long has this been going on?”
“Lando, just listen—“
“Ten months.”
You close your eyes.
“TEN MONTHS!”
The flight back home was going to be a long one.
.
“You really don’t have to come.”
“Do you not want me to?”
“No, I do but… Lando is going to be there.”
“And you don’t trust him not to cause a scene?”
“I don’t know if I trust either of you not to get into a shouting match in front of our parents.”
You were already dressed and ready to go to your parents for dinner. You sat on the bathroom counter as Max finished getting ready. He was fixing his hair, the last step before he would be done, also.
You watched as the gentle, concentrated furrow in his brow deepened to one of anger. “He called you a slag, Y/N. I don’t care if he’s your brother; that’s not okay.”
“He said I was acting like a slag—“
“Same difference.”
“—and he didn’t mean it. He was just caught off guard. I did go behind his back…”
“Don’t paint him as the victim. Admittedly, we probably should have told him sooner but that doesn’t mean he gets it be a dick about it.”
Max momentarily abandoned his hair to squeeze your knee.
“You have to stop making excuses for him.”
“He’s my brother.”
“And he has always walked all over you. When was the last time he properly apologized to you for anything?"
“Max…”
This wasn’t the first time Max had brought this up and every time, you deflected or excused everything Max tried to shine a light on. Lando was Max’s best friend but he was your brother, your twin brother. You had never not known him.
Lando was integral in who you were as a person. You were made as a pair. You grew up as a pair. You had always had each other. He was your built in best friend. You always had his back, no matter what.
If you were a pushover, if you let Lando tease you and speak to you in ways you’d never let anyone else, if you tolerated things from him you that you shouldn’t, then that was your decision.
Max didn’t understand that. He didn’t seem capable of understanding the complex workings of your relationship with your twin. You would do anything for Lando, regardless of what it would mean for you, and you were fine with that.
That was how it had always been: Lando, the showman, and you, the supportive sister. Even back when you were karting together, Lando was out front and you were playing defense to protect his position.
You celebrated his victories more than you ever celebrated your own but that was fine. He was your brother and you loved him.
“Okay, fine. Whatever,” Max relented on that front. “But this is a step too far. He doesn’t get to act like a petulant little kid because I’m dating you. Calling you names and running away to Monaco when he’s meant to be filming with Quadrant. He’s being ridiculous.”
Some part of you knew the punishment of Lando ignoring you for the past month didn’t fit the crime of not telling him you were dating Max. The bigger, more conscious part of you felt like carving “traitor” into your forearm with a steak knife and hoping the pain would make your brother forgive you.
Your messages to Lando had become a wall of blue, full of apologies, begging to let you explain, attempts at striking up a conversation like normal, asking if he had meant to cancel your plane ticket to the Azerbaijan Grand Prix followed by even more apologies and then congratulations on a race well done.
You played with your fingers the whole car ride. Max reached over at one point after you had started picking at your cuticles to kiss the back of your hand and hold it the rest of the way, making idle talk that did nothing to distract you from what you were headed towards.
After Lando found you two in Max’s hotel room and the ensuing argument got heated on both of the boys’ sides, Max stayed with you for a few days. When he finally went back to his and Lando’s London flat hoping to talk things out before filming for Quadrant, Lando had cleared out.
He posted a rather passive aggressive Instagram story a few days later about “real friends” featuring some other F1 drivers all holding padel rackets. Max had not been happy when he found you torn up over it, shedding tears over the fear that you had lost your brother.
You had always been sensitive. Quick to cry, quick to care, quick to get attached, quick to get hurt. Lando poked fun at you for it your entire lives but he was also the first to jump in and defend you whenever anyone else said anything to you.
Lando’s distance over the last few weeks hurt. Like, physically hurt. You would see something that you thought he would find funny and go to text him about it just to remember he was giving you the silent treatment and your chest would hurt for the next several hours as you waited on a reply that never came.
Despite it all, when you saw Lando stood in the kitchen with your mom, the first time you had seen him in over three weeks, you couldn't help but smile.
He was halfway to returning it, as if on instinct alone. Then, he noticed Max at your back and his face fell devoid of any sort of pleased emotion. Your own smile fell, chest starting to ache again.
“Y/N darling, there you are.” Your mom came over to hug you and kiss your cheek, then did the same to Max. “And Max! Your best be treating my girl right.”
"Of course, Mrs Norris."
"Stop it with that; I've told you to call me Cisca."
"Mum knows?" Lando said. "You already told mum? Did she know before I did?"
You drew a sharp breath. It was difficult to talk to Lando when his tone was both wounded and accusatory.
"She called me not long after you boys had your spat," your mom explained, "Told me all about her and Max and I couldn't be more pleased. I always knew you fancied him, Y/N, even back in your karting days."
"Muuuum," you groaned, embarrassed even if Max already knew how long you had been crushing on him.
Max laughed and kissed your cheek. "The Shield fancied me."
"Shut up."
“The Shield” was the cringe-worthy nickname that karting media outlets had given you back in the day on account of how difficult it was to overtake you. So much of your karting career had been defense for Lando but you always felt a little victorious whenever you made a boy mad about getting beat by you simply because he couldn't get around you.
You could have gone far in racing if you hadn't quit after a single season of F4.
Lando gagged at Max's display of affection.
Max zeroed in on him, eyes sharp and mouth opening to call him out. You caught his shirt between your fingers, silently reminding him that he had promised not to start a fight. He looked mighty unhappy about it, but Max let his chest deflate and followed you into the dining room to help your other siblings set the table.
Ten minutes later, you all sat down to eat.
This was not the first time Max had dinner with your family. It had become such a common occurrence that it didn't cross any of your minds that your typical seating arrangement had your dad at one head of the table, your mom at the other, your older brother and sisters on one side, and you, Lando, and Max on the other, in that order, always with Lando between you.
Even dating Max, you didn’t think to sit next to him because that was Lando’s seat. It didn’t even cross your mind that it might not have been the best decision to sit your twin next to his best friend who had gone behind his back to date you for months without telling him but it was too late for that.
Lando was the last to sit down after going to retrieve the forgotten napkins. You considered swapping seats last minute as he hesitated over the dining room threshold, then thought better of making a scene and resigned yourself to a torturous dinner without being able to hold Max's hand through it all.
After getting caught by Lando, you had told your mom about you and Max. She had obviously clued your father in but you weren't sure which of your siblings knew the full extent of what went down when Lando found out.
Oliver and Cisca seemed oblivious enough, even if they were casting confused glances at you, Lando and, Max, trying to figure out why the three of you weren't speaking to each other. However, Flo was keeping an awfully watchful eye on your twin and boyfriend, as though waiting for the show to begin.
Table talk was casual and nearly pleasant. With Lando uncharacteristically silent beside you, and Max refusing to so much as look at his best friend, you couldn't fully enjoy spending time with your family while they were all together.
Max caught your eye behind Lando. He gave you a smile, one you couldn't quite return. Lando leaned back and got in the way of your eyeline to Max. You turned back to your food, continuing to pick at the delicious pork your mom had cooked but not able to enjoy it.
"Max, what of you?"
"Sorry?" Max was about as clueless to the conversation at hand as you were.
"Do you have plans to visit Monaco any more this year?"
They must have been talking about the trip your parents and youngest sister would be taking to Monaco during Cisca's summer break. You had planned on taking time off work to go with them, as well as with Max later in the year, closer to the end of the F1 season to attend a few races and help film some Quadrant content.
"Are you and Y/N going sometime together, possibly?"
It was a harmless enough suggestion from your mother. She probably only wanted to try and get Lando and Max to say a word to each other.
Then, despite having already agreed to house both of you later in the year, Lando said, "They haven't mentioned anything."
You really were not enjoying this dinner.
It was getting harder and harder to have all your siblings in the same place as you all got older. Only Cisca lived at home now and she was going off to uni in Manchester next year.
You missed when being with your family was easy, when you didn't even have to think about it. You missed your childhood bedroom that was now the second guest bedroom, your and Lando's bunk beds long gone.
You missed your brother terribly, even if it had only been about three and a half weeks since contact was cut. You didn't want to lose him to something like this but at the same time, you couldn't imagine letting Max go.
Max made you so happy. Couldn't Lando see that? Couldn't he see how in love you were? Couldn't he accept your and Max's relationship for the sake of not wanting to lose his twin sister and best friend?
You would do anything for Lando. You had given up so much for him. You supported him at every twist and turn of your lives. You just wanted things to be okay again.
"Y/N darling, what’s wrong?"
Your mom’s question was quiet, meant to not attract anyone’s attention. But Lando and Max were both quiet, too, in unsettling amounts from the two of them. They both looked at you just in time to see you wiping at your cheek.
"I'm fine."
Except you weren't fine. You were sad and nostalgic and sick of feeling that way and now you were all teary. You just wanted a nice dinner with your family where the two men you loved most in the world acted normal and you didn't start randomly crying at the dining table.
Lando put his hand on your arm. "Y/N/N, are you alright?"
Like his touch finally shook loose something inside you that you had been holding back since the hotel argument or maybe even longer, you rounded on your twin brother.
"No, I'm not alright! How could I be alright when you're acting like this?"
Lando immediately threw his walls back up, going on defense. "You and Max went behind my back."
"And that means you get to throw a month long hissy fit over it?"
"You've been dating for ten months!"
"It's actually eleven, now, mate."
Lando turned to shoot a glare at your boyfriend. "Shut up, Max."
"Stop being a dick, Lando! Just stop! Yes, we should have told you sooner. Yes, I'm sorry you found out like you did. But that doesn't mean you get to treat me, treat us like this."
"How am I supposed to react?"
"You're supposed to get over the initial shock and be happy that two of the people you care about are happy together."
(On the other side of the table, Cisca leaned closer to Oliver. "When did Y/N and Max start dating?"
"I think he said eleven months ago."
"That long and they haven't told us?"
Flo shushed them both. "Shut up; I'm trying to watch.")
"How am I meant to be happy about you two lying to me for the last year?" Lando demanded.
"I have been trying to apologize and talk to you about that for the last month and you haven't let me! You ran off to Monaco, ditched your Quadrant responsibilities, and left me thinking that I'd ruined things forever. That's such a dick move, Lando! Fuck—"
You were crying again. You wiped angrily at your cheeks, wanting to be taken seriously and get your point across but it was difficult when you had tears running down your face.
"You can't just ditch me like that when things get rough. It's not fair when I've been there with you through everything. I have never not supported you. I have always been there for you. I quit racing so that you wouldn't get passed over. But the second I do something you don't like, you can't give me even an ounce of support in return."
"What do you mean you quit racing so I wouldn't get passed over?"
Your chest went still, blood running cold. Shit. Shit shit shit, Lando was never meant to know about that. You had never planned on telling him. Never ever. Not even when you were old and saggy and there would be no consequences. You were meant to take that secret to the grave.
"That's not what's important. I don't understand—"
"What did you mean, Y/N?"
You gulped. "It's nothing. It was a long time ago, anyway. It doesn't matter."
"Y/N."
.
"Me? You want to sign me?"
The Josef Kaufmann Racing representative grinned at your bewilderment. "Yes, you."
"No way. Are you serious?"
"Completely. It obviously won't be set in stone today and we'll need to speak with your parent or guardian but Carlin would be lucky to have you on our roster next season."
"Oh my god. No way!"
You had been worried about next season as all the 2015 series were nearing their ends and you had yet to have been scouted by any teams. Your contract with Mücke Motorsport was coming to an end after this season but now you had been offered a seat in the next level of racing, at the same team your brother was in talks with, no less.
"Oh, this is great! Lando and I will still be on the same team. You know, my brother and I have always walked about being on the same F1 team. That would be crazy, obviously, but this is just like that but on a smaller scale."
"We'd not be giving your brother a seat."
Your excitement was gone in an instant. "Sorry?"
"Lando wouldn't have the seat in Formula Renault. It would be yours, instead."
"You're offering me... my brother's seat."
"That is correct."
Just like that, you let your career die. "I don't want it, then."
The rep blinked at you. "What?"
"Give the seat to Lando. He's who you want. He's the better driver. He has always finished before me."
"He would not have if you were not defending his position. Josef Kaufmann would rather have you driving for them next year."
"I don't want the seat. Give it to Lando. I was planning on quitting racing, anyway. Sign Lando for next year. He'll do well for you."
.
"Y/N, what the actual fuck?"
You ducked your head. "Don't blow it out of proportion."
"You gave away you entire racing career at the drop of a hat because you didn't want to take a seat that I hadn't even been signed for yet? You— Why would you do that?"
"Because you're my brother."
Behind Lando, Max was staring at you, wide-eyed. All around the table, your family openly stared at you in shock, not quite able to believe the real reason you had suddenly dropped out of racing.
The reason you had given was that you had gotten bored of it. That you had only ever gotten into it because of Lando. That you didn’t want to constantly be in competition with your brother. That when Lando got famous, you didn’t want to be his lesser racing counterpart.
There may have been some truth in those excuses but the whole truth was this: you had been offered the seat Lando was negotiating for and you would not take it from him. You loved racing; you did not love it more than you loved your brother.
“Y/N, I… I honestly don’t even know what to say.”
“You could start with an apology,” Max offered.
“To both of us,” you added.
Max leaned back in his chair. “I’m good back here. Worry about me later.”
“No, she’s right,” Lando said. “I’ve been a real dick to both of you over the last few weeks. You guys didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve always had Max as my chosen best friend and you, Y/N, as my built in best friend but then you guys started getting closer. Then, I found out you’re together and it’s like, what do you need me for if you have each other?”
Any anger you may have been holding onto melted into sympathy. “Aw, Lando—“
“You are so fucking thick, mate,” Max cut in. “You think I’m going to treat my girlfriend the same way I treat your dumbass? I need a platonic best friend just as much as I need a romantic one.”
You laughed at the face Lando pulled.
“If you start referring to us as your platonic and romantic best friends, I’m fleeing to Monaco again.”
“It’s too late. It’s already started, platonic best friend.”
“Eugh, this is terrible. Go back to being awkward acquaintances, please.”
“I love her, mate. There’s no going back from that.”
You loved Max. Wholly and truly you did. How well he got along with Lando was just the icing on the cake, another thing to add onto the list of reasons you were stupidly in love with him.
Your lovesick expression must have been quite obvious because suddenly Lando was shoving your head to the side with a hand over your face.
“Oh my god, don’t look at him like that—I’m gonna barf.”
(Oliver had gone back to his food.
Cisca was still watching, confused. “Wait, so Y/N and Max have been dating for eleven months and not even Lando knew? Why?”
“Apparently, it was an oversight.”
Flo speared an asparagus. “This is better than any TV show I’ve watched all year.”
“You’re enjoying this too much,” Oliver said.
“I’m the only one enjoying this the correct amount. I’ve been waiting for Lando to stop cockblocking Y/N and Max since 2014. I am allowed to be entertained by their drama.”)
“Can we circle back to the whole quit racing because of Lando thing?” Max asked, “Because what the fuck, babe?”
“You quit racing, too!”
“Because I was burnt out, not because I would rather throw my entire career away than make my brother momentarily unhappy while other teams jumped at the opportunity to sign him up.”
“It’s fine! I mean, look at where Lando is now. Season number five of Formula One! It all worked out in the end.”
.
“Are you really okay with us being together?”
You stood outside with Lando and Max after dinner had finished up. Your parents were loading the dishwasher, Oliver was driving off down the street, and Flo was finishing up doing something with Cisca inside. The three of you were finally able to talk privately.
Lando was quiet for a while after your question. He still seemed a little hesitant but it wasn’t anywhere near how he had reacted in the hotel. He glanced down at where you were holding Max’s hand, then looked away, still thinking.
“You’re not allowed to have sex while I’m in the flat,” is what Lando eventually decided on saying.
Max, unimpressed, said, “It’s a bit late for that, mate.”
“Oh my god,” you muttered, covering your face with your hands.
Lando yelled his displeasure quite loudly. Max just laughed at him, not at all apologetic.
Even if your face was burning, at least you knew things would be okay. You had your brother back. Max had his best friend back. And Lando had both of you back.
The three of you were messy and intertwined but you would be okay.
#half.writes#max fewtrell#max fewtrell x reader#max fewtrell fic#max fewtrell fanfic#max fewtrell fanfiction#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris fic#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fanfiction#formula one#formula 1#f1#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#f1 x you#quadrant#quadrant fic#quadrant fanfic#quadrant fanfiction
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soft-hearted jealousy
#author's note ... i love wonwoo so fucking much did i ever guys tell u that. anywho this one is for zanzan bc i got inspired when we watched the kode ep <//3 and big big biiiig shout out to my beloved @l3visbby for proofreading <3 love u mother
#summary ... you're a little jealous of wonwoo n kerias frienship<//3
#word count ... 986
pssst the fic is referencing this cute vid:( wonwoo looked so good in it btw like what the actual fuck. also keria is my height and i fainted when i saw them hug bye



the door opened with a soft click and then all you could hear was soft patting of wonwoo’s footsteps against the wooden floor.
sighing, you switched youtube to instagram and tried to act unbothered. but how could you? a reel of a new video featuring your fiancé popped out. a video you have just watched and it made you… a little jealous.
“bedroom?” wonwoo called, trying to locate you.
“yea” you hummed back, loudly enough for him to hear you. scrolling down, you noticed another reel.
the love of your life with a cute, gamer boy.
puffing your cheeks, you decided to exit instagram as well and check if you had any mails or texts.
wonwoo entered the room, a small crease between his brows.
“is everything alright, darling?” he asked, voice smooth as honey. which pissed you off even more. how dares he sound so attractive when you’re mad at him?
“yes” you grunted a little too sulkily, drawing his attention.
“oh really? because you didn’t run up to me once i entered the house” wonwoo teased and walked up to the bed, stretching his arms. you lost the battle with yourself and watched him, biting the inside of your cheek. how could one look so good in a plain white t-shirt and jeans?
“yeah, im fine. how was your day?” you sighed and looked away once you saw he noticed your gaze. with a small smirk, he laid down next to you. the mattress dipped under his weight but that restored the balance – it somehow felt empty when he wasn’t there before.
“it was good. me and mingyu did a live… i talked to my new friend… we might play a bit today” he answered, eyes tracing your face “oh, the video is out! did you see it?”
you hated how excited he was. and how much you liked it. keria is…
“cute. i liked it” you mumbled and turned his back to him, fighting a smile. this is ridiculous.
but it’s just not fair that wonwoo looked so handsome in that video and threw some flirty comments. he was so cocky in it too…
“cute? yeah, keria is so adorable” wonwoo chuckled and you looked at him through your arm, shooting him a glare “what? what is it?”
“nothing” you grunted. wonwoo’s lips broke into a grin, finally figuring you out.
“something is clearly wrong. come on, talk to me” he purred, his hand sneaking its way under your t-shirt.
“you looked good in the vid” grunting, you tried to surpass a smile. the warmth of his skin on yours sent shivers down your spine but your tried to remain calm. and not fold.
“really? thank you, darling. keria said he liked my jacket” your fiancé hummed and leaned a bit closer, fingers tapping gently against your ribs.
you couldn’t control the huff that left your lips.
“we got along really well, i like his company. he’s so sweet” wonwoo continued to tease you and apparently that did the trick.
“if he’s so sweet why don’t you date him, hm?” murmuring, you tried to hide your face in the pillow. wonwoo’s fingers ghosting over your skin in a circular motion made you melt, making it impossible not to crack.
“oh?”
“forget it. go play your stupid games” you scoffed and wanted to move further away from him but wonwoo was quicker. he pulled you closer, calloused hands resting on your hips.
“are you, perhaps… and i might be wrong here… jealous?” wonwoo’s cat-like adorned his features and you turned around, finally facing him. ebony eyes looking at you with amusement but also love, so much love, in them.
“yes, you’re wrong” you finally broke and cracked a smile, poking his buff chest. wonwoo tenderly grabbed your hand, placing it flat against his chest. his heartbeat softly drummed beneath your palm, making heat rise to your cheeks.
“come on, you know i would never…” he started and you shook your head.
“it’s stupid and not that serious” you whined, covering your face with your other hand “it’s not the way you were… so flirty… and charming…”
“oh, pretty” wonwoo laughed wholeheartedly, the warm sound of his laughter bouncing off the walls of your shared bedroom.
you leaned closer and hid your face in his chest, the smell of cologne filling your nostrils. his tender hands moved to the back of your neck, massaging it gently.
“i made my angel jealous… by talking to my friend?” wonwoo sighed dramatically and you could hear the smile blooming on his lips.
“it wasn’t just talking! you were so flirty…” your voice was a bit muffled by the material of his t-shirt “or i just… don’t know. you were really something that day, you know? so what if i’m a little jealous, i just don’t want to share you with the world… that much”
wonwoo’s heart skipped a beat and he observed how you raised your head up. eyes meeting his, cheeks dusted with pink. you were so cute like that… cuter than keria.
“can i make it up to you?” he hummed, hands trailing to cup your face.
“a kiss. and no flirting with others, even if it’s a cute guy” you pouted and wonwoo leaned, capturing your soft lips in a sweet kiss.
before you had a chance to deepen the kiss, he leaned away with a small frown.
“but you do admit he’s cute, right?” your fiancé asked and you smacked his chest lightly.
“i wish we could adopt him” you laughed, and a grin formed on wonwoo’s face.
“i’m afraid he’s a little too old for that…'' hiding his face in your hair, you decided to wrap your arms around his waist.
“he’s 21… still a baby…” you huffed and shortly after, the sound of your laughs mixed in harmony. you guessed you might forgive him, it wasn’t really serious in the first place.
masterlist <3
taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @mon2sunjinsuver,, @eternalgyu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,,@mine-gyu ,, @nonononranghaee
#seventeen#svt#seventeen drabbles#seventeen oneshot#seventeen fluff#wonwoo#seventeen imagines#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo seventeen#wonwoo imagines#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo x reader#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo fanfic#wonwoo oneshot#seventeen fanfic#svt scenarios#wonwoo fic#seventeen wonwoo#wonwoo svt#seventeen x you#svt fluff
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up against the wall
୨ৎ MDNI. this is the first fic i've really posted that's come with a caution sign, but dark content ahead, you have been warned ♡ this was originally an oc x dazai but i converted into dazai x fem!reader for all of you who wanted to read it ♡ a bit yandere on both dazai and reader's part. full submission. degradation and praise. gunplay. dom!dazai ((fucking yum)). lemme know whatcha think, luv you ♡୨ৎ
take me, take me back to your bed i love you so much that it hurts my head. say I don't mind you under my skin i'll let the bad parts in, the bad parts in... ─★ now playing: degausser
You had always known what and who Osamu Dazai was. The parts of him that he’d given you and the parts of him that he tried to hide– they were both engrained into your mind. Clawed and carved into your heart no matter how much he attempted to conceal off pieces of himself that he didn’t want you to have access to.
He'd learned pretty early on in your relationship that there was no such thing as avoiding you, not just because of your Mind Glimpse, but because of who you were as a person. The sheer lengths that you'd go just to get to him were hopeless and absolutely devoid of all logic.
At 16, you'd tattooed his initial on your forearm when Mori tried to put an end to your relationship. Nearly killed yourself a couple of years later when you somehow managed to teleport all the way from Port Mafia to his apartment, collapsing in his living room from overusing your ability all because he wouldn't answer your calls. There was no obstacle or barrier strong enough to stop you from gravitating towards him the way you did and the worst part was, Osamu... liked your earth-shattering devotion to him.
He'd never experienced love before and he'd certainly never experienced… whatever it was between the two of you before either, but there was something about your raw and unapologetic honesty that captivated him. He’d spent so much of his life being conditioned to lie and manipulate to get others to bend to his will and yet, you... would happily break yourself for him just because.
You'd do anything, really. Any request, no matter the cost. Any command, no matter the risk. Any hoop, no matter the height– you'd always find a way, finishing the task with with wide eyes and a smile. “Like that? Was that good?” You might as well have been a puppy with how you obeyed him so thoroughly. It was equal parts amusing and… something else entirely. Something that Dazai wasn't quite ready to face.
The nickname “little ghost” that he'd gifted you expanded well beyond your ability to vanish, it rang true in all aspects of your relationship. You were his shadow. His mirror. Your curiosity just as relentless and unwavering as his own. Your determination and shamelessness just as dangerous when it came to getting the things you wanted and he was always the thing you wanted most.
You saw him, even when he didn’t think you did. Not just the flippant exterior that he presented to the outside world. Not the hollow cut-out version of himself that he used to blend into crowds. No, you saw him– the full scope of who he was and who he pretended not to be, and you still clung onto him like your life depended on it. Craved him. Haunted him. Trusted him. And worst of all, loved him. Really, sincerely, desperately loved him.
In your first year at Port Mafia, Dazai had written you off as entertainment. A fun, fragile little toy that he could pick up and dissect whenever he got bored and he got bored a lot. But you were happy to oblige, often catching him off guard with how excitedly you would offer parts of yourself up to him without him even having to ask.
You were an enigma in your own right. Something he’d never really seen before. So starved for attention but so infuriatingly stubborn when it came to letting yourself receive it. So obsessed with the idea of love but so tragically clueless when it came to actually being able to identify it. So in-tune with the emotions of everyone else around you but so completely unaware of your own. You were dangerous– Mori’s worst migraine and Dazai’s best asset with the way your ability would spiral out of control when your feelings became too much for you to bear.
Dazai was hardly solid, made up of nothing more than loose-leaf ideas and questionable personality traits that he’d stolen from others and pieced together for himself over the years. But to you, he was so much more. He was the very foundation beneath your feet, the gravity that kept you standing and upright most days, never letting you float too far into your mind. He was the only thing that could stabilize you and not just from his nullification, but from simply being there. As Chuuya had pointed out so many times, the two of you were “a match made in hell”, but you both seemed to find more comfort than threat in the flames you created together.
Four years ago, if you would’ve asked Dazai how it happened– how your relationship with him had morphed into something that bared such an eerie resemblance to that of trust and understanding, he would’ve dismissed it, but now…
His eyes narrowed, amusement flickering across his face as you circled him in your makeshift training room. “Careful. I told you I’m not gonna let you win this time.”
A spark of silver and blue electricity cracked into the air, your small frame vanishing from where you had been standing across from him, only to reappear right beside him. Your breath hot and tantalizing against the shell of his ear, “Be rough with me then, I can take it.” The smile in your voice was palpable and then– gone.
Now… there was no denying how much he loved chasing and breaking you, his favorite little toy.
He let you have your fun for a few more minutes, folding his arms over his chest with a smirk as you teleported across the abandoned warehouse with precision, pressing soft kisses against his cheek before disappearing into a snap of iridescent energy.
You hid behind a crate, concentrating as your gaze locked onto one of the heavy industrial light fixtures before pulling it down from the rafters, letting it crash next to where Dazai was standing.
"Wow," he mused, giving you a fake clap. "Had I been 12 feet closer, you might've actually gotten me."
He didn't have to know where you were hiding to know that he'd struck a nerve, a smaller lightbulb bursting in one of the overhead lights indicated that you heard him.
"Come here," he said, his voice softening a bit as he rolled his shoulders and shifted his weight. He barely had to side-step to dodge the tire that had been hurled his way. Your emotions were erratic but always predictable.
"Baby, c'mon. It's not my fault you have terrible aim. That's why we're here anyway, remember?"
There was a crackle of energy, another flash of steel blue before you finally reappeared in front of him, a pout that he was all-too familiar with looking back at him.
He bit back a laugh watching you sink into yourself.
"Look, it's about focus, okay?" His tone transitioned into something more serious as he took a slow step towards you. "As long as Mori sees you as his own personal project, I need you to be prepared for anything. You're gonna start getting sent on higher ranking missions sooner than later and I need to know that you're ready for that."
There was something about the way he said it– about the genuine concern coating his words that made your chest tighten.
You let your eyes meet his again as you nodded. "Okay," you breathed, the bratty rebuttal you had lined up promptly dying on the tip of your tongue as you took in his features. "What do you want me to do?"
"Teleport to me, we're going to go over intuition and reflexes."
You drew in a sharp breath before closing your eyes, electricity dancing along your skin as you accidentally snapped yourself directly in front of him so that you were chest to chest.
"Surely you wouldn't get this close to an enemy," he smirked, "but for argument's sake, let's say you did. Let's say you landed right in front of them, just like this and they –"
Without any time to think, Dazai had already reached into the inside of his coat pocket, the cold metal of his Beretta suddenly resting easily against your temple. “What now?” He whispered, looking down at you with provoking curiosity. "What are your instincts telling you to do?"
It wasn't the first time you'd had a gun drawn on you, but it was definitely the first time you'd had a gun drawn on you this... intimately. Your body betrayed you, displaced warmth migrating to your cheeks as you blinked back at him through heavy lashes. Your instincts were certainly there, they were just... all wrong.
Dazai caught your reaction immediately, the fleeting but unmistakable flicker of lust that washed over you.
"Oh?" He quipped, leaning down while pressing the barrel further into your delicate skin. "What’s this, huh?" His stare was equal parts predatory and incredulous as his eyes trailed over you, zeroing in on every small, subtle shift you made. The way your breathing had slowed, the goosebumps that decorated your arms, the way your hips couldn't help but tilt towards his ever-so slightly. "You like it, don't you? Like the way it feels when your life’s in my hands?”
"No, I'm–" You faltered, your words completely stolen by the knowing smirk that had cut across his face. "I'm just– thinking, is all."
"Thinking” he echoed, his other hand gently cradling your jawline as he forced you to keep your eyes locked with his. “And what exactly are you thinking about? Please, enlighten me.”
You had to bite back a smile, trying your best to mask your flimsy composure though you knew he could already see straight through it. "Strategy." You lied, jutting your bottom lip back out in faux innocence.
Dazai couldn't help the laugh that escaped him as he tilted his head towards yours, closing the already small gap between you. "Is that right?" He mused, his lips just barely grazing yours. "My diligent little ghost, always so focused."
You nodded back at him helplessly, his grin razor sharp as his hand trailed from your jaw to the back of your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcefully cocking your head to the side.
It earned him a yelp as he continued to hold his weapon to you. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?" His breath fanned across your skin, leaving a delirious static in its wake while his body pressed against yours, pinning you between him and a metal crate. "Your eyes give you away every time."
"Dazai..." It wasn't quite a moan, but alarmingly close to one as his lips found the nape of your neck, his teeth lightly sinking into you.
"This opens up all sorts of doors for us though, doesn't it?" His curiosity was reaching new heights, dangerous ones that he'd always tried to keep at bay, but now... the glazed over eyes staring back at him were giving him all the confirmation he never needed to keep going.
You nearly moaned into his mouth when he finally kissed you, your hands desperately tangling into the collar of his shirt as you pulled him in closer. Your movements urgent and beyond your control.
"Spread for me." He said between breaths, using his leg to coax yours apart. "I wanna see something."
You were so lost, so needy and overtaken by the feeling of him that you merely whimpered in response, not caring about anything else except for the feeling of his lips back on yours.
"Good girl," he exhaled, hiking your skirt up as he slowly began to slide his gun down along your face. "You trust me, don't you?"
“Always.” You said despite the way your legs were trembling, your nerves dancing with a vicious mix of excitement and fear as he traced the barrel of the gun over your puffy lips.
He angled his knee just right, giving your clit a much-needed brush of friction while you gradually parted your lips for him, welcoming the cold metal into your mouth.
Dazai had never been one for big acts of commitment, but watching you moan into his loaded Beretta made him realize that maybe he did need to know your ring size after all. Just in case.
"Look at you," he groaned, nearly losing himself to the sight of it. "So fucking gorgeous when you're at my mercy like this."
The praise went straight to your center, your body humming with dizzy want and unrelenting need as he carefully retracted it, his mouth dropping open watching the trail of spit that connected you to it break and drip graciously down your chin.
You were fulfilling fantasies of his that he thought he'd only ever get to dream of as he leaned into you again, letting you cling onto him tighter. The two of you worked in perfect feral synchronicity, him pulling the thin fabric of your underwear down over your thighs to help you step out of them before you kicked them out of reach.
"Osamu..." Your voice had been reduced down to a heady plea, one that he'd do anything in his power to satisfy.
"I’m right here.” He lulled, his grip tangled straight back into your hair while his mouth returned to yours, his other hand working on something much more... nefarious.
"Relax for me,” his voice was soft but commanding, laced with something that made you trust him though you knew you shouldn’t. “That's right. Just like that.”
Your pupils doubled in size as you felt the harsh metal begin to slip between your sensitive folds, your words suddenly eviscerated by the way he was staring down at you through dark, clouded eyes. How completely and utterly lost he looked as he spread you apart, a sense of desperation that you'd never quite seen from him before radiating off of each move he made.
"Oh...my god," Every last bit of logical thinking you had was gone, your mind and body both succumbing to the foreign sensation as he kept up a firm but gentle pace, running it uppp and dowwnnn in a way that made yours legs threaten to buckle.
"Dazai," you whined, your nails tearing into his shoulder for support as the motion became more fluid, your arousal acting as a shameful lubricant. You were almost embarrassed by how noticeable it was, how easy it was for him to glide it across you and how loud you’d gotten as you tried to bury your face into his chest.
Dazai, on the other hand, was on cloud nine. Only ascending further into the heavens with each lewd, begging little whimper that spilled out of you. "Do you have any idea how perfect you are?" He soothed, kissing and nipping at your collarbone while you started to find a rhythm, the steel still sending chills down your spine each time it brushed across your overstimulated clit. "I don't think you do," he groaned, "I really don't think you fucking understand what you do to me."
Getting praised by him to any degree always had a way of bringing you to the edge, but this... this was a type of euphoria that you didn't even know existed.
“You know the safety’s off?” He purred against your neck, his heart slamming into his chest as he watched the pouty, pleading look that had taken over you. The same one he’d seen so many times before but never quite like this.
Your slick was practically dripping onto his fingers the more he taunted you, your center greedily searching for release as your hips rocked up towards him.
“All it would take is one little slip, you know.” He was tortuously intoxicating, bringing you to your breaking point by whispering the most infernal little nothings. “With how soaked my fingers are, it’s almost like you want me to. Like you’re just begging for me to-”
Your entire body shook by his last threat, your brows knitting together while you frantically pulled him closer, repeating his name like a prayer in the small space between you. In all his time with you, he'd never seen you this undone before, this fucking beautiful and pathetic. There was something about it, about knowing that he was the only one who would ever get this type of blind obedience out of you that made something inside him ache.
“Dazai ~!”
The whine you let out was so heavy your eyes nearly crossed, more incoherent obscenities bouncing off the concrete floors.
Your cunt was pulsating, absolutely desperate for something to fill it as the orgasm hit you in waves, the rigidness of his gun still sending shockwaves through your thighs. There was a sense of pride and awe that crept over him at how well you responded to him, how overwhelmingly easy it was to break you.
"You're so pretty." He whispered, pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead as he meticulously drifted the weapon back up over your stomach with a small grin. "Fucking insane, but so, so pretty."
You smiled breathlessly back at him, the loaded gun against your body completely forgotten by the weight of his compliment. “You think so?"
“Oh, I know so,” he smirked against your neck, freeing himself from his pants as his teeth sank into your skin. "You just came to the idea of me killing you and now you're all heart-eyed asking me if I really think you're pretty or not." He let out a semblance of a laugh, propping you up to wedge you against the crate again while your legs wrapped around him for support, his Beretta now resting tenderly under your chin. "My sweet girl... you're almost as deranged as I am."
The pink that swept across your face only added to the long list of reasons you were able to hold his attention. You were innocence mixed with sin. Naivety mixed with lust. He was holding a loaded gun to your head and you were all but saying “thank you.”
Your blush deepened as he prodded at your entrance, your eyes glazing over at how thoroughly his tip stretched you. “Dazai –” you whined, both of you reeling from how faithfully your walls sucked him in.
“What is it, angel?” His tone was thick with mockery, his finger resting lazily on the trigger as your nails met his back again. “Feel good?"
You nodded back at him, lips parting the deeper he went. “So good,” you exhaled, your back arching to invite him in more as he thrusted into you. “So fucking good.”
He watched you intently, his dark eyes nearly burning holes into your skin with how fervent his movements had become.
He was drowning in you, both physically and mentally– sinking further and further into the way you welcomed every part of him, both the good and bad. Even with the possibility of death looming over you, your only focus was him. The rest of the world, the threat of your life ending with one easy slip of a finger– none of it mattered as long as it was him that pulled the trigger.
"You'd let me, wouldn't you?" His voice was venomous, gentle enough to subdue you but still poisonous enough to seep into your veins without detection. "You'd let me be the one that to make that fragile heart of yours stop beating."
The answer was written all over of your face, evident in the way your core clenched around him the further he pushed.
You were soaking him, letting out the most gorgeous fucked-out noises he'd ever heard as he continued to wrap around your mind like the serpent that he was, robbing you of the last bit of dignity you had left.
"Say it." Dazai commanded, his thrusts becoming more punishing. "Let me fucking hear, it baby." He was just as lost as you were, riding a high he'd never experienced before as his hips met yours with untamed urgency.
"I –" Your vision blurred, your thighs trembling while his tip relentlessly slammed into your sweet spot. You could barely form a thought, let alone a sentence, his dark stare the only thing keeping you tethered to the room. "I– would." you finally choked out, almost drooling from how deep he suddenly was. "Dazai please, I'd– let you. I'd let you do anything, any... thing."
It wasn't the first time that he'd had someone beg while under the scope of his gun– some had begged him to spare their lives. Some had begged for him to just end it altogether. But no one had ever begged out of... love.
The noise he made was guttural, primal as his lips crashed into yours, his resolve crumbling entirely. His forehead pressed against yours while your walls spasmed around him like a vice, your core unravelling in a way that made him forget all of his senses.
You were smothering him, your nails tearing into his skin as your broken voice sang out his name like he'd trained you to do.
"There it is," he almost wasn't sure if it was you or himself he was saying it to as he began to twitch inside you. "There it– is, baby. Keep going. Don't stop." He was falling straight into the same abyss you were, the two of you tumbling hand in hand into a seemingly never-ending void of bliss.
"You're mine," he promised, letting his body seal the vow he was creating as he watched a desperate kind of sincerity settle over your features.
"Yours." you repeated softly, eyes full of conviction.
His chest heaved as he buried the last of his logical thinking and carnal desires into you at once. A damning warmth suddenly coating your walls while he slowly retracted the gun away from you and replaced it something much more sinister– affection.
His fingers gently traced over the side of your cheek as your uneven breathing mingled together. "Deranged." He panted with a faint smirk, "Certifiably insane."
You merely smiled as he pulled out of you, carefully getting you back to your feet. "And yours." You reminded him.
"Yeah, yeah," he teased, kneeling down to grab your discarded underwear. "Just stay still for me." He was tentative as he helped you redress, adjusting and smoothing down your skirt while stealing proud glances at the mess he'd left dripping down your leg.
You quietly admired him, noting the tenderness in the way he handled you as you stood perfectly still, only moving when he’d guide you.
Your brows furrowed slightly when he stood back up and pulled his Beretta out of his pocket again, opening the chamber to let a bullet fall into his hand. "Here," he said, offering it to you, "a little keepsake. Maybe you can turn it into a necklace or something."
You held it up to the light like it was a precious stone, your jewelry box back at Port Mafia suddenly calling your name as your brain danced with ideas of how to turn it into something even more beautiful.
Dazai couldn't help but grin as he watched you twirl it between your fingers with all of the delicacy in the world, your eyes wide with wonder.
It was fitting, he thought, the way you were able to make art out of even the most broken things.
⋆.𐙚˚
#rem writes#bsd fanfic#osamu x reader#dazai osamu#bsd smut#dazai smut#dazai x reader#bsd dazai#bungou stray dogs smut#bungou stray dogs x reader#dazai x fem reader#soukoku
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who’d believe? | dean winchester
summary. dean finds you six years after you ‘died’. tags. wc 2.3k, car sex (just fingering), angst, mentions soulless sam. lailas notes. this is for my ‘stuck on you’ by meiko square for @jacklesversebingo + actually got inspired by @little-diable ‘s not a ghost fic. so so beautiful and i think everyone should go read it! ++ for my 500 celebration, so happy i got to it so quickly && the title is the translation of the song title. and most importantly, beta’d by the incredible @copperboom82 who made it much more readable and enjoyable.
You were never really a bar type of person, mostly because of the loud noise and smell, other than that, you liked a good party. But you decided you needed to celebrate getting your dream job, or, okay, whatever, your friend is forcing you to.
"I'm not taking no for an answer," she said, handed you your outfit and went outside to get the car started, not even giving you time to reject the idea. Though the second you stepped foot in the lively place, you were glad you came.
The drinks and music were exactly what you needed; a nice night out with no responsibilities. And especially no men (at least none like those you work with, you're honestly over them).
An hour into dancing with your friend, two more strangers join you. When the last song ends and another less 'pop' and more 'rock' one starts, they suggest going out to smoke for a second. Despite not once in your life trying it, you agree.
You should really work on saying no.
Thankfully you're sensible enough to refuse when they try to hand you one, just standing next to them, linking your arm with your friend's. "Where do you work?" You ask one of the girls. She has shorter red hair that almost reaches her shoulders, black eyeliner and a septum piercing. In other words? Fucking sexy.
"Police." Your eyes widen and you stand up straighter. "Oh, stop it! You're fine."
You laugh but shake your head, "No, no, that's not what I meant, you're just so— cute, I guess. Wouldn't have taken you for the assertive cop type."
"Yeah, well," she shrugs, dismissing the thought. It's obvious she gets it a lot. "Saw the hottest guys today, by the way—"
Her friend interrupts, beautiful brown pin-straight hair, pale skin, a gorgeous smile; "God, he was pretty. And his brother too…”
"Oh yeah. Agent something and Agent whatever, I don't remember, I was too busy looking through the shorter one’s shirt." You all laugh, a sway in your demeanor. You're pretty sure it's the alcohol that's got them saying all this but it's funny either way.
"Yeah, he was amazing. Like, those green eyes, honestly—" Your smile drops fast. Green eyes had always been somewhat of a trigger for you ever since Dean, especially that specific beautiful shade. Then again honestly everything's been a trigger: hunting, black cars, vintage cars, food, pie— you could go on.
"Oh and the way he walks? The little outward bounce of his leg, so cute!"
You shift, a little uncomfortable. How many guys do you know with bow legs, green eyes and are cops? They're probably not allowed to tell you he's FBI.
The red-haired girl touches your arm making you jump. "Shit, you okay, honey? You seemed out of it."
"Oh, no, I'm sorry, just reminded me of someone. Old…" Dean.
There he is. Alive and in the flesh. You don't become a hunter and not hear about the Winchesters, you, on the other hand, fly under the radar. Especially since you try to stay away from any and all hunters.
But you heard nothing of how gorgeous he has grown up.
The girls catch your drift mid-sentence and look back to see what you're staring at. A dumb-struck Dean. "Oh! Agent…" Her friend elbows her stomach and Dean doesn’t peel his eyes off of you to speak.
"Right, yes. Hi, Officer."
She blushes under the dim light but Dean apologizes before breezing past them and holding your arm roughly to drag you away behind the bar. Your friend makes sure to motion to you if you need help before you let her know she should just get back inside. It’s pretty damn obvious you know the guy.
"Are you fucking serious?"
You let out a shy smile, "Dean, hey, how are you?"
"'How are you?'" He mocks, letting go of your arm aggressively, "'how are you?'"
"Is that not what they say anymore?"
"Are you serious?" He seems to enjoy repeating sentences much more than when you last saw him. "I looked for you, I mourned you." You mourned him too, in a way.
You and Dean were acquaintances, occasionally hunting together until you stayed at Bobby's place for a week and he came to visit coincidentally. You both started talking more that night, exchanged phone numbers and became somewhat friends.
Sam left for Stanford and you guys stayed together more frequently. Sam came back and you 'died'. Not on purpose, obviously, but Dean thought you died. You did, for a second, before you were brought back for some twisted, fucked up reason. Not that you knew it but if you did you're sure it would be fucked up.
By the time you woke up Sam and Dean had been long gone and your body had been buried. Didn’t burn your bones like he should’ve, no. He buried you. You're not sure which is worse.
"Look, I don't know what happened—"
"What does that even mean? You magically come back to life; you fucking call me! Ever thought of that?" A thousand times.
But Sam had finally decided to come back and hunt with Dean, Dean buried you, and so, you'd reasoned he was fine. You knew that if you were Sam, your body would've been preserved in the Impala for months before he'd ever allow himself to do that, to put you six feet under. The fact that he didn’t hold on to you had to mean he was okay.
But neither of you deserve more guilt. "I'm sorry, Dean."
"That's really rich. Real rich comin' from you. Grieved you for goddamn years. Six." Huh, that's a lot longer than you’d have thought. You were sure it would be six minutes. You knew he cared about you, but Deans also a 'what's done is done' kind of man.
"I'm—"
"If you apologize, I'll kill you. Again." You're about to crack a joke but his glare sets you off. Oookay, tough crowd, whatever.
"I wanted to call, I swear I did," how do you explain to the king of 'I don't deserve good' that you don't deserve him. He'll think it's a cruel joke. "I didn't know if you'd want me to reach out, I thought you were moving on with Sammy, okay? Going on with finding John. Me calling wouldn't have made a difference."
He scoffs, shaking his head. "I went to hell." You bite your bottom lip between your teeth. He sighs, a mix of emotions on his face. "You knew?" Your nod makes him turn around in anger (disappointment? hurt?), kicking the cardboard box as far as it'll go, another plastic one breaks and you flinch at that one.
In your defense, everyone knows.
"I couldn't do that to you and Sam, you moved on, Dean, I heard about you and Lisa and Ben—"
"Where the hell did you hear that?" Hunters talk. And he knows it. He turns around in an angry haze. "I didn't fuckin' move on, alright? I did what Sam wanted me to do when I didn't have you. Because my goddamn brother was in a cage with Lucifer, and now he's walking around without a soul!" He raises his voice until it gives out and so does his breath. You can't help the way your heart clenches, not even because of the words, but the tired look behind Dean's eyes.
Subconsciously, you move forward until you can hug him, and like he always used to: Dean throws himself into it, his head in your neck as he breathes you in. "I missed you." He whispers.
You don't believe how easily he's adjusted to this. If you were in his place you wouldn't hesitate to kill him, thinking he's a demon or a shifter.
He chuckles, his whole body rubbing against you. "Haven't hugged anyone like this in— ever. Was waiting for you."
He's never been safe, always made everyone else feel protected, you could only hope you built a safe place within yourself for him. You're at least close.
"I missed you too, De. Every single day, I swear."
You don't know what about the sentence sparks anything in him, but it does. He pulls away to smirk and push you against the hard wall. You gasp, doing nothing but turning him on more and giving him an entrance to your mouth.
He kisses you like he's lost his mind. He has.
His touch is electric as he pulls you closer, the heat of his body searing your skin, the raw intensity of desire saying more than words ever could. The kiss evolves, turning feral, almost carnal. He holds you, firm but tender, and rediscovers your mouth like a starving man. He is, he hasn't tasted you in… ever.
This is your first kiss with Dean, but the explosive chemistry between you makes the blood scream in your ears. It was never a secret that you and Dean were more than just hunters to each other, and it seems you dying was his last straw.
"We— Dean, can't here—"
He agrees. Or he doesn't. He's still kissing you and you're not sure if either of you are breathing.
Eventually he lets go. "Yeah," he whispers against your lips, moving for another kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, leaving a peck and panting out, "right."
"'M sorry." God, why are you apologizing? Why are your bodies so far away?
He shakes his head, moves away (even if it looks like he's struggling to do so), "it's fine, what— you were here with friends? Are you staying?"
"Are you asking me to not stay?"
He smiles, leans down for another kiss and you decide to say goodbye to your friends now or else you're never getting the chance.
"De, someone can see—"
"Don't overthink it." He says, burying his head between your breasts, kissing, biting, licking and loving all the noises you're making. He groans into your skin, nipping at a particularly sensitive spot that has you moaning out loud. "God, sweetheart, love that sound."
He moves his hands to your waist, thrusts his hips once, checking your reaction. A little tremor passes through you. Eyes hood over.
"Can't believe you're here, and all for me."
"Yes," you breathe, resting your forehead against Dean's, overwhelmed by his words and how close his hand is to your inner thigh. "Please."
"If I slide my hand up your skirt, will I find you dripping wet for me?" Another shudder shakes you gently.
"Yes."
When he grips your knee and your neck, closing your lips with a kiss while his other hand travels higher, you start feeling your pulse hammering in your ears. The windows start misting over, giving you privacy— not that you particularly believe Dean cares.
Dean moves his seat back, then pushes you until your shoulder blades hit the steering wheel so you're more comfortable, your legs bent on either side of him, hands braced against the door and his chest.
"Dreamed about this," He says, his voice low and husky. The way his eyes are raking over your body, you're not even sure you're supposed to hear him. "Thought about this everyday for six years, sweetheart. Now I get to have you."
He glides one finger between your lips, sliding up and down slowly. “Such a pretty pussy,” he groans, eyes focused between your legs and you fall over, your head on his chest, before he pushes you back against the steering wheel, "nu-uh, wanna see it. Wanna see how wet you are for me, baby."
You have so much to say— a lot of apologies and 'I miss you's’ and so many more beautiful words and kisses and you want to tell Dean that you care about him as much as he does you and why you left—
He dips two fingers inside you. Curls them immediately, and just like that, he finds your most sensitive spot.
You half pant, half moan, the words 'Dean, oh my god, please' a jumbled drowned-out mishmash because he starts torturing your clit, his thumb rubbing perfect circles, hard and fast, reducing your bones to liquid. But when you're right there, he eases away, lazily pumping two fingers in and out.
He smiles, exhaling a content breath as his gaze zeroes between your thighs, ignoring your pleas. "Yeah? you wanna come, darlin’?" the pet name and the question both bring out a loud moan you didn’t know you were holding, your hips involuntarily moving against his fingers until he stops you. you’re about to whine again but he increases the pace, crooking his fingers inside you while his thumb rubs your clit, and that’s all it takes.
The orgasm rips through you, powerful, relentless, so intense you think you might just black out. You’ve never felt so boneless in someone's arms, until your head falls right into his chest as he works your pussy, the sensation easing off and then coming again like waves crashing against the shore.
Dean doesn't stop. His fingers are rough, his thumb still being put to good use, and the release lasts so long. So fucking long you think you have an out-of-body experience.
It takes a minute until you're able to breathe anything but his cologne. When you can, you sit up slightly and move into the seat next to him, thankful for the lack of a console to separate you since you don't get very far, just lay your head on his chest.
He kisses your head. You can even feel his smile against the kiss until you notice the bulge of his pants and frown. You quickly get up and Dean's entire face falls. "I'm sorry, I didn't think—"
Dean grabs your wrist before it makes it halfway to his dick. "This isn't an exchange, sweetheart." Your entire body is like jelly, you can't move and you're pretty sure if you try sucking Dean off, you’ll pass out. But it feels… rude. "You're spent. I'll get you home so you can take a hot shower, and we'll pick this up again when you're ready. How about that?"
You can't fucking believe your luck. Dean wants an 'again'.
#Dean winchester x reader#laila’s 500 celebration#Dean winchester fluff#Dean winchester x fem!reader#Dean winchester x you#Dean winchester#supernatural angst#Dean winchester angst#Dean winchester fanfiction#supernatural fluff#Deam winchester headcanon#dean winchester#Dean winchester fic#supernatural fanfiction#Dean winchester series#spn fanfiction#supernatural oneshot#Dean winchester scenarios#supernatural scenarios#Dean winchester imagine#supernatural dean winchester#spn dean winchester#supernatural#Dean winchester supernatural#supernatural x reader#spn fanfic#laila writes !#dean winchester smut#spn smut
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ STRAWBERRY FLAVORED — GETO SUGURU.
contents. here is a lil prequel to this btw, basically this is suguru’s shower scene but if he actually had someone to take care of him, reverse comfort, aka my extremely self indulgent drabble of fixing suguru before he turns into a mass murderer <3
it’s been a while—suguru has been in that shower for long enough that you’re starting to grow concerned. you contemplate for a bit, whether it’s a good idea or not to enter the boys shower, weighing the possibilities of being caught.
satoru’s not here, you reason, nanami and haibara are gone too, and yaga shouldn’t notice either—so, with a heavy sigh, you walk up to the door, opening it slowly. you can see him, standing as the water pours over his body, not even moving a little when you enter.
suguru is not the same—not after everything that’s happened. you can tell, you can see it under his eyes from the lack of sleep, you can see it in his cheekbones as they show a bit more from the lost weight, you can see it in the stiffness of his body when you’re around him. he’s not the same, and no one’s seem to have noticed, but you have. you always have.
you slowly strip from your clothing, walking up to him quietly until your arms circle his waist and your cheek rests against his bare back.
“baby,” you hum, “you’re turning into a prune. look at your skin,” you grab his hand, running a thumb over the tips of his fingers, wrinkly from the water.
he gives you an empty chuckle—you don’t think you’ve heard a real laugh from suguru since that day. “but aren’t i a handsome prune?” he mumbles.
“of course,” you kiss his shoulder, “the handsomest.”
“that’s a relief,” he says playfully—there’s nothing playful about his tone, though. it’s numb, automatic, like he’s trained himself to respond to you the way he always does. but you can feel it. he’s not the same.
“you’ve been in here a while. i got tired of waiting.”
“sorry,” he drops his hand from yours, falling limply to his side, “lost track of time, i guess.”
“suguru,” you say softly, “what’s wrong?”
he’s quiet, probably contemplating his answer. no one else might’ve noticed, but you have. you always do—he knows you always will. finally, he decides to answer, “are you really asking me that?”
“yes,” you say firmly, “i want to hear it. i want you to hear it. stop pushing it down.”
“i’m fine,” he mutters, “just tired.”
“i know,” you say softly, “i know you’re tired. what’s got you so tired?”
gently, your arms twist his body—he doesn’t put up a fight, just spins to face you until his face is digging into your neck on instinct. he can smell your body wash, can inhale the familiar scent of you from here. there are no curses to consume and no people to save at the risk of himself here, just the soft feeling of your skin and the warm press of your lips on his head.
riko would’ve liked you, he thinks. he can’t help it.
for a fleeting moment, when his hand was outstretched to her, he’d wondered if you’d like her too. he’d decided you would—you’re kind, you always have enough love for one more person. you’ll like riko, he’d thought. and then just like that, she’d been on the floor, dark pool of blood under her head.
you never got to meet her, and he never got to introduce you.
“what’s wrong, sugu?” you ask again, voice more delicate this time.
“everything,” he whispers.
he’s tired, so incredibly tired. suguru is exhausted. so for today, he’ll let you pick up the pieces. he doesn’t want to worry about you right now, doesn’t want to think about whether or not the edges will be sharp enough to slice your fingertips. suguru is exhausted—so for once, he lets you worry about him instead.
“i see,” you nod, letting your fingers trail to his head, stroking the wet strands gently as he trembles against your body, “everything is a lot. let’s start with just one, yeah?”
“i hate the taste of curses,” he spits, “it tastes like vomit.”
“that’s no good,” you agree, and then you’re pulling his head out of your neck—he wants to protest, wants to stay right where he is so he doesn’t have to face you, or anything. but you’re insistent, gentle as you are firm, cupping his cheeks as you force him to look at you. “can you still taste it?”
“yeah,” he nods. it’s true, he can’t forget the taste even if he tries. it’s like a phantom pain—but it resides on his tongue, haunting him long after it’s gone, even as he breathes and swallows and talks. “i hate it.”
your lips are on his after that, soft and sweet against his mouth. he can taste the strawberry of your chapstick, the familiar taste of you that he also could never forget. it washes down the vile taste of curses easily, so he leans in for more. and more. and more. he needs more.
“what about that?” you ask, stroking his cheek when you pull away, “how does that taste?”
“good,” he says shakily, “i…i like that.”
“i know you do,” you smile, pecking the corner of his mouth, “i can’t change how curses taste. but if i could, i’d make them strawberry flavored for you.”
he chuckles at that—it’s small, but it’s real. for the first time in a long time. it’s real.
suguru hates how curses taste, and you can’t change that, but you can help make swallowing become easier. he’ll take it—he’ll take anything you give.
“that might make the job easier,” he says, burying his face back into your neck, “they’d taste like you.”
“i’ll kiss you then,” you stroke his hair, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his head. his lips wobble, vision turning blurry. suguru is tired—he doesn’t want to hold it in anymore. “after every curse you swallow, i’ll kiss you. it’ll make it easier.”
“i don’t know if it will,” he admits, “this….what do we do it for? none of it is easy.”
he used to think it was. fighting curses was easy—satoru and him were the strongest. fighting curses was like stepping on ants as they walk on the concrete, crushing them before they can bite anyone. but he starts to wonder if people deserve to be bitten, if the people who kick at ant piles mindlessly for fun deserve to be saved from themselves.
you think for a bit, contemplating his question as the water runs over both of your bodies, slipping into the thin crevices between your skin and his.
“it’s not,” you agree, “it’s not easy. i would’ve loved to meet riko. i know you wanted me to. i’m sorry, suguru.”
somewhere along with the water on your shoulder mixes his tears, and his body shakes against yours. suguru is tired. he’s tired of swallowing curses and tasting bile. he’s tired of pretending the weak are innocent. he’s tired of carrying so much weight on his young, innocent shoulders. they deserve to be free.
“is it worth saving them?” he asks as he sniffles, “if they clap over people like us dying?”
“people like us aren’t always so different,” you point out.
people like us don’t need saving, he wants to argue—but you don’t give him a chance to, turning the water off behind him as you stand there holding him as he leans into you.
“there will always be someone who needs to be saved,” you murmur, “and there will always be something they need to be saved from. it’s not always as simple as curses and exorcisms, though.”
“that doesn’t make any sense,” he frowns, “that’s the whole point of jujutsu. to exorcise curses.”
“and if we exorcised them all? would that make everyone safe?”
“maybe not,” he furrows his eyebrows, “but at least we wouldn’t be dying for them.”
“you never know,” you reach for the towel, slowly pulling away and patting his skin gently as you dry his dripping skin, “maybe you’d die from something worse.”
“what could be worse?” he asks bitterly. he doesn’t understand. but you smile, pressing a kiss to his jaw as you brush his bangs from his face.
“i don’t know,” you shrug, “but i’m sure there’s something. there’s always something worse. but there’s always something better too.”
he still doesn’t completely understand. but the weight on his shoulder doesn’t feel as heavy when you lean and kiss it again—he feels like at least some of his youth is still his, still yours.
“you make no sense,” he grunts, scowling when you ruffle his hair obnoxiously with a giggle.
“well, maybe you’ll make sense of things after a nap,” you poke his chest accusingly, “you really need one. and then you’ll eat something. c’mon.”
“i don’t sleep with wet hair,” he reminds you as you tug him along, stopping where his clothes hang. you gesture at him to hold his arms up, grabbing his shirt. he rolls his eyes and indulges you, letting you dress him.
“i’ll dry it for you,” you chuckle, “my sugu is so high maintenance.”
and then, before you can turn to grab your own clothes, he tugs your wrist and pulls you in, kissing you hard, kissing you hungrily, kissing you like you’re all he has. just because he can. he can taste the last bits of your chapstick—he wants to keep tasting it forever. it’s strawberry, his favorite.
“i like strawberries,” he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes, “so don’t change the flavor.”
“okay,” you grin, cupping his cheeks, “i’ll always get strawberry for my sugu.”

he just needed a few kissies and he would’ve been fine. i guess i’ll take one for the team and kiss him a few times 😔 i guess i can take the responsibility of loving him 😔 i’ll be fine guys no need to worry about me 😔
#operation: heal suguru!#teepods.writings#drabbles.#geto x reader#geto x you#geto angst#geto fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru fluff#geto suguru x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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On the Rocks
Pairing: Bartender!Ari Levinson x Female Reader
Summary: You're not sure why Ari doesn't seem to like you, but you two have to work together.
Word Count: Over 2.4k
Warnings: Tension, coworkers, bit of grumpy and sunshine, misunderstanding, future smut, Ari Levinson and he's slightly rude at first (he's a warning, okay?)
A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy this intro to my Gin and Bear It AU. @spectre-posts requested bartender!Ari to Go for a Swim (smut) with prompt #13 in bold. TECHNICALLY not smut, but there will be smut in future parts. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren't one to brag, but you were good at your job. You showed up on time and stayed late if necessary. Never dropped a tray or drink. Didn't skip out on cleaning or any other tasks. And not only were you attentive with your customers, you showed just enough skin to keep it professional and never went home with anyone at the end of the night. Your work ethic helped you earn the respect of just about everyone at the establishment.
Except for Ari Levinson.
You eyed the gorgeous bearded man behind the bar, your blood rushing faster through your veins. He didn't spare you a glance. He hardly ever did. Everyone else who worked there got a smile from him. Even a smirk. But you? An unimpressed look was what you got on a good day. You chalked it up to you being a new member of the staff, until the barback who started after you received kinder treatment from him.
To be fair, it wasn't like Ari hated you. He didn't seem to particularly like you either. For the life of you, you couldn't figure out why. Maybe there wasn't a specific reason. Some people just didn't mesh well. It didn't stop you from treating him like every other coworker. The two of you had to work together whether he liked it or not.
“Hey,” you smiled as you stopped at the bar and set your tray down. You waited a second for him to acknowledge you, but he kept drying glasses. “Three Jack and Cokes, please.”
That got Ari's attention. He didn't have to greet you, but you both had a job to do. You waited in silence while he made the drinks. He didn't look at you, but you looked at him.
He was in good shape. Great shape, in fact. With his large and somewhat intimidating size, you were surprised he wasn't a bouncer. He was a good bartender though. He wouldn't have a job there if he wasn't.
It wasn't right how attracted you were to him since he never seemed to give you the time of day.
“Thanks,” you said when he set the drinks on the tray for you.
He grunted and turned to put the bottle back.
“You know, we’ve been working together for almost three months. One of these days you may actually carry on a conversation with me instead of answering me with random sounds,” you teased.
“I'm here to work, not chat,” he said over his shoulder, his deep voice sending a wonderful shiver down your spine despite his statement. “You should do the same.”
You sighed when you picked up the tray. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”
Like always.
“Don't need friends.”
It was a bit of an odd statement. You said friendly, not friends specifically. “Aren't Steve and Bucky your friends?” You asked. They were two of the other bartenders. Best friends and good to the rest of the staff. Protective, too, always quick to jump in if a customer got mouthy or handsy.
Ari’s jaw clenched as he faced you, but you didn't cower. “Yeah, they are.”
You may not have cowered under his gaze, but you sure as hell felt small the longer he looked at you. “But you don't want to be my friend,” you said.
“I don't need more friends,” he said dismissively as your stomach dropped. You wished it didn't hurt to hear that and you had to blink rapidly when you felt a familiar telltale burning in your eyes. “Anything else?”
Plastering a smile back on your face that didn't quite reach your eyes, you straightened up. “Noted. We aren't and won't be friends,” you said before you added with more bite than you intended, “And don't worry, Ari. I don't need anything from you.”
He must've noticed the shift in your tone, too, since his jaw clenched harder than before. You walked off before he had a chance to say anything, cursing yourself inwardly at your tone. You shouldn't have let his dismissal get under your skin. Besides, he was right. You were there to work and your customers needed their drinks.
So, why did it bother you so much that Ari didn't want to be your friend? It shouldn't matter. There were lots of people who worked together who never talked or saw each other outside of their jobs. You wished he would've given you a chance, but you’d respect his decision.
For the rest of the night though, you planned to avoid him like the plague.
As your shift went on, you felt Ari’s eyes on you. Instead of looking back at him or giving him a smile like usual, you ignored him or acted like he wasn't there. You didn't stop at his end of the bar, going instead to Steve to get your drinks. For the first time since you started working there, you had Ari's full attention.
And for once, you didn't want it.
By the end of your shift once you wrapped up just about all of your tasks, you were ready to get out of there. “Any plans after closing?” You asked Steve, counting out tips for him.
“I might be seeing someone,” he smiled gently, his gaze flickering to a woman sitting alone at a table.
You raised an eyebrow. Patrons hit on the guys all the time, but it was rare for them to take anyone home. “Well, I hope you have a good time,” you said before nodding over to Bucky who was sitting at the bar, too. “Isn't it your night off?”
Bucky smiled softly. “It is, but my girl should be here in a few minutes. We won't stay long.” His girl had gone through some heartbreak before she rolled into town and the brunette quickly became her knight in shining armor.
“You have fun, too,” you said, sliding off the stool with a sigh.
Steve’s brows pinched. “You okay?”
“I will be,” you said, not wanting to lie to him and pretend you were fine. You also didn't want to get into what was going on. Feeling sorry for yourself didn't do you any good and everything would be okay tomorrow.
“You sure?” Steve swung his head toward Ari. “You think I didn't notice that you haven't been back to that end of the bar?”
You glanced in that direction, inhaling sharply as you met Ari’s gaze. He crossed his arms as he stared you down, tension as thick as fog. All you could see were the blue of his eyes and you had to look away so you didn't lose yourself.
“Just an off night. Nothing to worry about,” you said, pushing over Steve’s cut. “And I’m out for the night unless you need anything else.”
Bucky and Steve exchanged a look. “Need one of us to walk you out?” Bucky offered.
“No, I’m good,” you said, sighing again when you realized you’d have to pass by Ari to leave. You also had to give him his tips. “Enjoy the rest of the night.”
Ari stood in the same spot as you walked toward him, your heart beating erratically. One day he may not make your heart race like that. “Night,” you smiled sadly, setting his tips down on the bar and walking on.
You grabbed your bag from the backroom and headed out for the evening with your keys in hand, shivering at the slight chill in the air. It wasn't until you were about halfway to your car that you heard footsteps behind you, making you tense up. Maybe you should've had someone walk you out.
“Hey.” It was Ari. “Wait up.”
You stopped and turned to face him with a quizzical look. “Why? Do you need something?”
Ari looked up at the night sky and ran a hand through his long hair, but didn't reply. You were two seconds away from walking to your car when you heard above a whisper, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” You asked when he met your eye. “Sorry for what exactly?”
“I was an asshole to you earlier,” he replied, surprising you as he took a step forward. “Been kind of an asshole to you since day one when you've been nothing but friendly.”
“Yeah, I know,” you said. Why did it matter now?
A stricken look crossed his features before he put up his mask again. “Why were you so nice to me then when I was an asshole to you?”
You shrugged, trying to convey that it wasn't a big deal. “Because I had no reason to be rude to you, Ari,” you replied. It was that simple. “I was upset earlier though and I did avoid your side of the bar, but it’ll be fine tomorrow.”
“But-”
“You don't have to like me. You really don't,” you told him, the words bittersweet. “But we do have to work together. So as long as we’re civil to each other, it’s fine.”
You fought the urge to step back when Ari took another step forward. There was usually a bar between the two of you when you stood near him. Up close with nothing between you showed just how large he was. And he smelled good, too, because of course he did. “I never said I didn't like you.”
“Maybe not with words, but your actions kind of said it for you. Seriously, there’s an obvious difference in your demeanor with me versus everyone else,” you pointed out.
“Yeah, there is,” he agreed, his blue eyes full of regret. At least he acknowledged that.
“Not to mention, you just said tonight that you didn't need more friends. Between that and your attitude, the natural assumption is that you don't like me,” you said. What else were you meant to think?
He nodded. “I can see why you’d think that, but I'm sorry.”
Both of you stayed quiet for a moment. You weren't exactly sure what to say. “Okay, well. Apology accepted, I guess. Good night.”
“Wait,” he said when you began to turn away. “Do you really wanna know what I thought about you when you started working here?”
The skeptical look was back on your face. “I’ll admit I'm curious, but I won't just stand here if you’ll continue to be an asshole to me.”
He chuckled. Did you actually make him laugh? “I wouldn't expect you to,” he said, taking a breath. “This might get me fired if you complain.”
“Just say it, please,” you half begged. “Whatever it is, it can't be-”
“I wanted to bend you over the bar and fuck you ‘til you screamed my name.”
You sputtered, an embarrassing sort of sound. It wasn't what you expected to hear. Ari Levinson wanted to fuck you? Since the moment you met?
“You what?” You asked, wanting to hear him say it again.
“I want you and I’ve imagined fucking you all over the bar every day since you started working here. The tables, the booths, the office, against the wall, even in the bathroom stalls,” he spoke, his voice deep and confident as you tried not to whimper. How were you already wet? “But not just that.”
You bit your lip. “What else?”
His gaze softened. “I think about your smile. You have such a beautiful smile.” You did whimper this time. Since when was praise so important? “And how you giggle at bad jokes. And how you sway your hips to the songs you like. And how you're just so fucking kind, even to those who don't deserve it.”
“You like me?” You asked.
“Yeah,” he whispered.
You held up a hand, your head spinning from his confession. “Wait. Hold on,” you said, trying to get your bearings and not throw yourself into his arms. You needed to have some self respect. “You’ve been an asshole to me because you like me?”
Why do men do dumb things?
Ari winced. “Not my smartest plan, I’ll admit, but I thought pushing you away before anything happened was the best move.”
“Why though? Why push me away?” You asked.
He clenched and unclenched his fists. “I don't like to mix business with pleasure. Been there, done that.” It wasn't a secret that Ari was single, but there was a story there. “But that doesn't excuse being cold toward you. And if you’re willing, I’d like to start over.”
You searched his gaze for sincerity and found it. “So would I.”
His expression softened more, relieved. The fact that he wanted to try gave you hope for things moving forward. “And maybe we can grab a coffee at the diner? Just talk?”
Your eyes rounded. Was Ari asking you out? “When? Now?” You asked.
He smiled. “If you’re free.”
You smiled back and shook your head. “Nope. Sorry, Ari.”
Ari's smile fell immediately. “No?” He repeated the word in disbelief. You were in disbelief yourself. “No you aren't free or no you don't want to hang out with me?”
“Any other day, I’d love to have a coffee with you and talk or for you to make good on that promise of bending me over the bar and making me scream your name. But tonight?” You batted your eyes for good measure. “No, I don't.”
“Oh.” Ari blinked and cleared his throat. “I guess that makes sense after how I acted.”
“It makes perfect sense. A quick apology doesn't get you off scott free for how you treated me,” you told him, taking a step closer yourself this time. “So change my mind.”
“Change your mind?”
“Yeah. Let's start over like you suggested and you find a way to change my mind. I'm not saying you have to be overly friendly during our shifts, but treat me a little better. Show me why I should give you a chance and ask me again later,” you answered, gliding your fingers along his forearm once you were close enough. “And I'll still be nice to you. I promise.”
“So, you want me to woo you?” He smirked after a moment, one that nearly made your panties melt. “I can do that.”
You giggled. “I think I deserve it.”
“You do. And my first step in mending things,” he said, offering his arm as he stepped back. “How about I walk you to your car?”
“You may,” you smiled, linking your arm with his. You felt him flex a bit and you almost giggled again, a spring in your step as you walked. One day you’d feel him pin you down with that strength. You’d be patient though.
After all, he promised to woo you first.
How do we think he'll make it up to you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
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