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theosbaby · 4 months

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birthday princess

stepbro!draco malfoy x fem!reader

masterlist

part one ;; off-limits

summary; it's your nineteenth birthday and your stepbrother gives his favorite girl a very special birthday present.

warnings; college!au, innocent!reader, dom!draco, sub!reader, stepcest, SMUT, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v, lots of praising and (shitty) dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it up everybody!)

author's note; english isn't my first language, so you might find mistakes. i'm kinda obsessed with stepbrother!draco lately, so i'm gonna make this a series... hope you like it!

you were back in college, the new semester had just started after christmas break and you were forced to return to your usual rutine; which you didn't want to, because that meant draco and you would have to be apart for months till you both came back home for summer break; drawbacks of going to separate schools, miles away from each other.

today, it was friday, and it was your birthday. your roommate had tried to convince you, very insistently, to go with her to a frat party to celebrate, allegating that "it was supposed to be fun turning nineteen", but you were far too depressed to party, so she ended up going alone; you just missed draco very much. you knew that what you guys had was very wrong, but you couldn't stop thinking about that night in his bedroom. the way he had touched you, the way he had kissed you, the way he had made you feel...

gods, now you were depressed and horny.

a soft knocking on your door brought you back to reality and you sighed, rolling your eyes. you got up from your bed, thinking it was just your roommate again —she tended to forget her keys very frequently. but when you opened the door and saw draco standing there, you almost cried.

"happy birthday, princess," he said with that sultry voice of his that you had missed so much.

he was carrying a huge flowers bouquet on one hand and a white paper bag on the other. he was looking at you with the biggest smile on his face, and you didn't hesitate to throw yourself at him to hug him tightly.

"draco!" you shouted, your voice muted by his flesh as you buried your face on the crook of his neck, inhaling his expensive cologne.

draco chuckled, returning the hug instantly. "missed me that much?" he teased, kissing your temple softly.

"yeah, i did," you muttered as you nodded. you pulled back slightly to look up at him with a cute blush and bright eyes, "can't believe you came all the way here just to see me! you didn't have to..."

"well, i couldn't let my favorite birthday girl spend her day alone now, could i?" draco asked with a smirk, placing another kiss on your forehead that time.

he stepped into your dormroom slowly, picking you up with one arm as if you were nothing to carry you inside. then, he closed the door behind him using his foot.

"i love you."

you smiled big, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a chaste peck on the lips; you couldn't help but blush as you did so.

"i love you more," he whispered against your mouth, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

he then set you down gently, careful not to crush the bouquet between your two bodies; you quickly grabbed it, smelling the fresh scent of the flowers. you did not have a proper vase to put the bouquet in, so you just settled it carefully on top of your desk.

"these are beautiful," you said; the bouquet was made of pink tulips, your favourites.

"i bought you a little present too, wanna open it?" he asked, giving you the white bag.

"yes!" you giggled as you took it and ran excitedly towards your bed.

you sat down on it while draco stared at you adoringly. with shaky hands, you took a little box out of the bag; it was covered in a pretty silver wrapping paper that you quickly ripped open. inside the box, you found a gold necklace with a heart pendant; on the backside of it, it could be read: "draco's little princess".

you smiled big when you saw it. "it's so pretty, i love it!"

"i knew you would." draco smirked, walking over to you and taking the necklace from your hands. he sat behind you on the bed, saying, "let me put it on for you."

he gently pushed your long hair aside to place the necklace around your neck. after that, he leaned in, planting a tender kiss on your soft skin. you turned around to face him, kneeling on the bed while you pushed your hair backwards again to show him how the necklace looked on you, your thin and tiny white singlet doing nothing to cover your body.

"perfect," he breathed out, looking at you with such intensity that it made your heart skip a beat.

his eyes traveled down to your lips as his fingers traced the outline of the pendant resting on your chest. you blushed, averting his gaze, as a smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

"don't look at me like that." you chuckled shyly, covering your flushed face.

"like what?"

he smirked cupping your face to force you to look at him, he was still gazing at you like he wanted to devour you. you swallowed hard as the butterflies in your stomach fluttered about crazily. you let out a breathy sigh, your lips parting slightly.

"like you wanna eat me up..." you answered timidly, your voice was merely above a whisper as you did so.

"you have no idea how much I want to," he admitted, a small growl rumbling from his chest. he brushed his thumb over your full bottom lip, causing you to gasp softly, then he added, "been dying to taste that sweet pussy of yours, princess."

you were a lost for words as his blunt statement made your heart race like crazy, you could feel your face and ears heating up from embarrassment but also from arousal.

"don't be shy, baby," he purred, leaning in closer until his breath fanned across your neck and he peppered your skin with little kisses, "would you let me eat your beautiful pussy? wanna make my girl feel good on her special day..." he asked with a soft voice.

you squirmed and let out a little whimper as you felt his hands moving down to grasp at your creamy thighs, pulling you onto his lap. your head tilted to the side, giving him full access to your neck. all that attention he was giving to your body was making you really wet, your pussy aching to be touched, so you nodded in response.

"yes, princess?" he whispered against your skin, nipping at it gently.

he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, seeing the need and desire there.

"you want me to eat your pussy? use your words, baby," he questioned again, his voice husky with lust.

"yeah... want you to eat my pussy, dray," you muttered shyly, blushing at the dirty words that came out of your mouth.

"good girl," he praised you.

he gave you a small kiss on the lips before standing up with you in his arms to place you on your back on top of the bed.

"now, spread those beautiful legs wide for me," he commanded, gently caressing the back of your knees.

you obeyed instantly, looking up at him with big innocent eyes. your tiny shorts hiked up, barely covering your skin. he eased himself between your spread thighs, his hands trailing up your legs tenderly in search for the waistband of your pijama bottoms.

his fingers tugged at it to start pulling them down alongside your cotton panties. you lifted your hips to allow him to take off your clothes easily, and both items of clothing got stuck at your left ankle, but you just left them there, too eager to feel his touch to care.

now, you laid completely bare and vulnerable in front of him, your body shivering in anticipation.

"gods, you're so fucking gorgeous," he muttered, his voice low and husky.

he lowered his face to kiss your stomach, trailing hot kisses all the way down to your mound as his hands gripped your hips tightly. you whimpered at his compliment, your hand reaching to grasp at his blonde hair.

"draco, don't tease." you pouted, running your fingers through his soft strands.

"ask nicely," he purred, nipping at your inner thigh playfully, while he groaned in pleasure as you continued to tug on his hair, encouraging him.

"dray, please, need you so bad," you pleaded, your hips jerking forward; your clit was throbbing with need.

"very well, princess," he cooed, kissing his way up your inner thigh towards your sensitive pussy.

his tongue flicked out to tease your little bud before he sucked it into his mouth, groaning against your skin as he tasted you for the first time. you moaned in delight, pulling gently at his hair to push him closer to your cunt. the new sensation made your toes curl; you had never had your pussy eaten, and gods, it felt so fucking good.

"mhmm, you taste so fucking sweet, baby," he hummed against your cunt.

his tongue kept tracing slow circles around your swollen clit before he sucked it into his mouth, causing you to gasp and buck your hips. you cried out so softly, your pretty voice echoing in the silence of your dormroom, while your back arched from the bed.

"love those pretty sounds you make for me, princess," he praised between licks and sucks.

his hands gripped your hips tightly to hold you still as he continued to worship your pussy. you felt one of them sliding up and underneath your singlet to cup one of your breaths. you panted when his fingers toyed with your perky little nipple, that hardened instantly beneath his touch.

"draco," you moaned, grinding your pussy against his face.

"so fucking desperate for your stepbrother, huh?" he teased, "you gonna cum on my face, baby?"

he switched his attention to your other nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers as he continued to eat you out. he lifted his eyes to look at you, his lips curling up into a predatory smile as his tongue flicked against your clit faster now, knowing that you were close.

"yeah," you muttered in response between needy whimpers.

you breathed out, your chest raising and falling rapidly as you felt your pussy clenching and pulsing around nothing; the coil in your belly tightened, announcing your upcoming orgasm.

"come for me, princess," he growled against your pussy before taking your clit into his mouth and sucking hard. you moaned, your hips jerking up as he worked to pull your orgasm from you.

letting out a cry of pleasure, you came on his face while your whole body trembled. you couldn't help but arch your back from the mattress as you gasped for air. the feeling was so good that your vision went blank for a second. when you finally came down from your high, he slowly pulled away.

"that's my good girl," he purred, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

he stood up and helped you remove the last of your clothes before starting to unbutton his own shirt. panting, you reached to unbuckle his belt eagerly while he got rid of his dress shirt. your skin was flushed and your body still flustered from your recent orgasm.

"so impatient," he chuckled, pulling his trousers and boxers down before climbing on top of you.

he grabbed his hard cock to press the tip against your slick pussy, rubbing it teasingly as he leaned down to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. you moaned into the kiss, your hips bucking against him while he teased your clit with his cockhead.

"you want this cock, baby?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble against your lips as he continued to tease you. "want me to fuck you?"

"yes, please..." you answered, wrapping your legs around his hips to urge him.

with a smirk, he thrust forward, burying his cock deep inside you in one swift motion.

"fuck," he groaned, feeling your tight pussy clamp down around him. "you're so fucking tight."

your eyes rolled back at the feeling, his cock obviously too big for your tiny cunt, but somehow he managed to make it fit like he did the first time. he started to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm as he fucked you hard. you gasped out his name with each deep thrust, your nails digging into his back as you tried to get closer to him.

"you like that, huh?" he whispered, "you like your stepbrother's cock stretching your tight little pussy?"

your cunt tightened in response to his words, your face scrunching in pleasure while you nodded, unable to form any coherent sentence. your face was flushed as you heard the creaking from the bed and the filthy wet sounds of his skin slapping against yours.

"look at you, all fucked out on my cock," he growled lowly.

you truly were a sight for sore eyes; you looked so innocent, but at the same time you were taking his dick like a total slut, making him go bloody crazy. he grabbed your legs to pull them up so he could fuck you deeper. you cried out, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he went balls deep.

"you're such a dirty little thing." his dirty talk was making you so wet that you were dripping onto your bedding.

"oh, draco," you moaned loudly

your hands reached to grasp at your own thighs as he pushed your legs onto your chest; the new angle had your toes curling and your legs shaking. he was holding onto your calves, gently kissing your ankles. his grey eyes glazed with lust as he continued to pound into you, hitting that spot inside you that had you squirming under him.

"fuck, feels so good," he groaned, his teeth nipping at his bottom lip.

you let out a breathy whimper as you clenched around his thick shaft, saying, "i'm so close."

"let go, princess," he commanded sweetly, "cum on my cock."

he gave you one last hard thrust, sending you over the edge. your orgasm crashed down on you and you cried out in pleasure, your body writhing beneath him as your cunt engulfed his dick harshly. his eyes fluttered closed when he felt you pulsing around him, his whole body shuddering while you milked his cock, making him cum inside you with a low groan.

"happy fucking birthday, baby."

fuck you if that hadn't been the happiest birthday of your entire life.

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miguelsslvt · 9 months

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friends- chase atlantic

nerd! ex! miguel o’hara x popular! reader college au

word count: 1335

TW: mild smut under cut, overstimulation, smoking, drvg use, manipulative friends.

A/N: so basically, this is my interpretation of a scenario that happened in the nerd! miguel lore!! obviously this isn't 'canon', this is just my interpretation of the wonderful storyline by @nymphomatique !! always go check her out, her stories are honestly the best <33 hope you all enjoy and welcome to the club!!^^

'he's not good for you y/n!' 'he's a freak y/n!' 'he's such a weirdo compared to you y/n!' 'get rid of him y/n!' 'get rid of his ass y/n!'

that's all your 'friends' ever said to you about miguel o'hara. they hated your relationship with him. he was a nerd sure, but all your 'best friends' were adamant that he was no good for you. or your name, for that matter

he was a bit of an outcast and nerd, sure, he used to sit alone at lunch, he would get bullied by the football team, he never got invited to parties, and don't even get started on his glasses.

but, no matter what, you wanted him. you had a reputation of popularity and cockiness sure, but you wanted to introverted freak nonetheless. he was just so.. sweet. and no matter what, you wanted him.

eventually you listened to your friends, cutting off everything you had with miguel so you could stop hearing the constant nagging of 'when are you gonna get rid of him?'

miguel being miguel, he was heartbroken. he cried for days, while you were enjoying your free time partying or sleeping with randomers.

a few weeks swings by, and parker's usual summer party is just tonight. he has one every year, and without a doubt they're the best parties of the whole school year. you were obviously first invite, and you happily agreed. but what you didn't expect, was the conversation in chemistry class that parker and his other 'popular' football friends were saying.

'yeah i invited that o'hara kid, it's gonna be so funny!' peter said, as one of the boys joined in. 'i say we throw him into the pool!' he said, as you chimed in. 'don't be dicks you think you're all so cool and popular bullying a kid? grow up.' you snapped.

peter smirked. 'aw, is little y/n getting possessive over her little ex fuck toy? i swear if you two are gonna fuck in my bed-' 'even if we do i'm sure it'll be better then having another night with your 2 incher. at least he knows where the clit is.' you replied snarkily, the boys laughing as peter went red in the face in anger.

'you're such a slut!' he snapped, you smiled. 'yeah well at least i didn't fuck mandy simpson in the back of english lit last semester.' you said, as peter was livid. he turned around, as you and your friends laughed.

the party arrived, and you wore your favourite black tight dress. it was a spaghetti strap, paired with gold hoop earrings, a gold necklace and some black strap heels. you packed a black and gold bikini just in case the boys decided their usual 2am pool dip.

you grabbed a bottle of vodka, pouring 50% in, mixing it with some coca cola. you noticed the usual hockey boys sniffing some sort of substance you didn't really care, you then saw the pick me girls all over peter and his friends. your friends were smoking back in the garden, beside the pool. you decided to walk over to them.

'hey girl! you want a smoke?' gracie asked, as you smiled and lit a cigarette, smoking it with your friends.

'hey, is that.. o'hara?' kate said, pointing to a corner. you turned around quickly, seeing the boy you oh so fondly missed (but you would never tell anyone that).

he looked more ripped. he had been going to the gym, you noticed that when you stalked his instagram story last week. he wore a pair of black jeans, and a polo shirt that was a little too tight for him. his hair was slicked back, and his glasses were a little crooked as usual.

'what a nerd, who invited him?' grace whispered. 'i heard peter invited him just to take the piss outta him. a little far fetched if you ask me.' maddy said, as abbie chimed in. 'well after making y/n look like an absolute freak for dating him, i'm sure the nicest thing o'hara could do is at least look popular so y/n doesn't look like a complete moron.'

'say that again?' you swung your head to abbie, who immediately shut her mouth. 'you can't talk abbie. i swear you fucked hobie brown during spring break?' you replied, as your friends laughed, abbie nodding. 'i deserved that.'

a few hours rolled by, and you were.. tipsy. your friends were either dancing, drinking or making out with one of the hockey dudes. you however, was searching for miguel. and when you found him, your heart boiled.

'cmon o'hara! we so kindly invited you to our party, why don't you just take a little swim with us?!' peter said, pinning miguel up to a wall. miguel was a shaking mess. you sighed, walking up to peter. 'hands off him.' you said, sternly.

'cmon y/n, you two ain't even together anymore. let's just show this little freak what parties are really about hm?' peter replied, as you smacked him swiftly, causing peter to lose his grip on miguel.

'WHAT THE FUCK?!' he snapped. 'touch my boy again, and i'll fucking end your career. you hear me?! one snapchat story and you could lose everything parker, you hear me?! now fuck off, enjoy your little party, and leave me and MY man alone!' you yelled, as peter's friends were awe-struck. they knew you were mouthy, but jeez.

'stupid bitch!' peter yelled, before walking away. tears welled miguel's eyes, as y/n grabbed his hand, taking him into her car.

she started the car, as the two were silent on the way home. 'w..where are we going?' miguel asked. 'my dorm.' you said in reply. '..i'm not your boy y'know. not anymore.' miguel mumbled. that made you raise a brow. 'i'm sorry, what?'

'you said i was 'yours' earlier, a-and..' tears fell down miguel's face. 'i'm not. n-not adfter y-you dumped me.' he said, as you sighed.

'..you're supposed to be smart, o'hara. why the fuck can't you see why i dumped you?' you said, as miguel looked away. 'i do know. i- i know it's because your friends said so. th-they didn't want you to be unpopular and weird.' he said.

'..i'm.. fuck man.' you mumbled, sighing. 'you know me, miguel. you know i hate saying this. but.. i'm sorry.' you said, that made his heart stop. you're.. sorry?

'i do want you. i've always fucking wanted you. but my friends they.. they just- they were in my ear for so long i-' 'tell me.' he cut you off. 'what?' you asked. 'what were we? we weren't exactly together, b-but we weren't not? i.. all i know is that we weren't just friends.' miguel stated.

he had a point. technically speaking, you two were just fuck buddies. 'we.. we were just fuck buddies.' you said honestly. 'and i stopped that because of my.. stupid fucking friends.' you parked outside the dorm. 'and y'know? i don't give two shits what anyone thinks about us.' you said, looking at miguel. he wiped his tears.

'do-does that make us.. something again?' he asked. '..get out.' you stated, as you got out the car, grabbing his hand and dragging him into the dorm.

---------------------------------------

'm..mistress p-please..' he begged, his legs shaking. you had been sucking him off for about an hour now, not stopping. it was his nth orgasm, and he couldn't feel anything.tears were streaming down his face, but you weren't done. not yet.

'let your mistress please you, yeah baby? i've been neglecting you for so long..' you cooed, stroking his cock as his eyes rolled back. you tutted. 'aww, so sensitive.. is my little dweeb tapping out before even touching mistress?' you teased, as he shook his head.

'n..no.. w-want to feel y-you mistress.. p-lease..' he whimpered, as you let go, moving to sit on his lap.

'trust me baby, we aren't stopping until i say so.'

1K notes · View notes

kyunzin · 4 months

Note

Hey my love, I absolutely love your writing especially with the JJK men. But spinning off of that and only if you have time, could you write a fic where each of them (whom ever you chose) react to chubby y/n wearing a brand new dress they got?

𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲

character; 𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

cw; the price doesn’t matter as long as you’re happy (f!reader)

tags; chubby reader, public sex, slight voyerism (people can hear what’s going on), body worship/ oral mentioned (f!receivng), fingering, standing sex

a/n: thanks ☺️ and I’m always happy to make time for requests

✰ so what if he went a bit overboard in buying dresses.

✰ so what if it may have drained the money he just earned from his recent mission.

✰ why should it matter if he gets to see your bright smile as you walk out of the changing room with the the tightest dress that leaves nothing to the imagination.

he sits there in front of your stall watching as you walk out in a crimson off the shoulders short dress that barely covers your ass and outlines your figure perfectly. a pait of stilettos, a small shoulder purse and a thin black neck scarf to tie the outfit together.

“fuck me”

his hand is covering his mouth so you just barely catch the end of his sentence but you can still see the beaming smile from under his hand. this is your favourite one out of all the ones you’ve tried on so far so you hope he likes it too. “what did you say baby, and also what do you think of this one”

“dont worry about what i said, i think this is the best one you’ve tried on all day”

he stands up, rubbing his hands together as he walks over to you. you turn back around looking at the way it fits on you with a conflicted look on your face. “you really thinks so, I thinks it’s a little bit tight” not a moment later you feel his arm wrap around you as he leans down to press a kiss into the crook of your neck.

“it looks perfect on you baby, I promise”

it’s only a second later that you feel something poking into your back and you have half a mind to know that it’s not his belt and you’re sure he’s doing it on purpose to get your attention pressing into you further. upon realising you let out a shocked gasp “really ‘toru, we’re in public”

“cant help it baby, wanna help me out?”

you can hear the smile in his voice as he rubs up your sides and you cant say that you’re against the idea, but you’re a little nervous about being caught. “we have yo be really quite ‘toru or they’ll hear us.

he doesn’t wait a second before turning you around and picking you up, causing the bag to slip from your shoulders, bringing you back inside the small dressing room closing the door behind the two of you and you let out a surprised yelp when he pushes you against the cold surface of the mirror.

he holds you up by your plush thighs and even with your weight you have no doubt that he won’t drop you as he has proved multiple times that he’s able to hold you.

he long since got rid of your insecurities even though it may have taken hours of him spent down between you plush thighs eating you out and worshipping every inch of you body kissing and licking away any doubts of his desire for you.

your hand reaches to grip his hair as his mouth latches onto yours. after a moment his tongue darts across your lips pushing it’s way into your mouth, which you accept and moan into the kiss as you feel his fingers slide under the dress to pull your thong to the side and slide his fingers into your cunt.

the only reason he’s able to curl his fingers inside you with ease is because he had fucked you against the door before you left, pulling up your tennis skirt sliding your thong to the side for a quick fuck before you left the house. it’s like he’s insatiable, unable to keep his hands of you, fucking you on any surface he deems suitable not that you’re complaining .

hence why the two of you end up licking your way into each other’s mouths in a public space with no shame and it’s not long before you start to feel yourself cuming around he lengthy fingers only for him to quickly remove them. you let out a whine as you break from the kiss “fuck, no no no! please don’t stop. I was so close, why’d you stop?”

“you know you only get to cum on my cock baby, don’t forget that”

“then hurry up and fuck me already” he laughs at you impatience but works on completing you request by pulling your legs around his waist and you get the silent command and lock them behind his back so his hands are free. while he works on undoing his belt and pulling down his trousers you occupy yourself with sucking hickeys into his neck and collar.

you have to bite down onto his shoulder in order to muffle your moan as he pushes into you with no warning though he does let out a whispered growl as he sinks into your cunt. “oh fuck! a w-warning would be nice next time asshole”

he laughs at your irritation and lifts you up from his cock slightly before slamming you back down without warning again. the both of you moaning out a shared “fuuuck” at the jolt of his hips connecting with yours, the slap of your skin against his resonating in the small space.

you expect him to go slow but he does the opposite of setting a brutal pace, lifting and dropping you on his cock like you weigh nothing. the sound of your dripping cunt stretched around his thick cock circulating in the space, both of you panting and moaning out. he has to kiss you in order to keep both of your moans quiet not wanting to draw much attention to you two.

“oh fuck, your gripping me so fucking tight, taking my cock like a -shit! good girl, such a good girl f’ me arent ya”

you nod your head frantically moans to frequent for you to get out a coherent secret but he’s able to make out your little rambles of “fuck m’ gonna cum, don’t stop, please please please!” even without you saying it he can feel it by the way your pussy grips into his duck as he lifts it up. he’s not surprised when he hears your moans of “m’cuming. fuck fuck fuck!”

he feels as you gush around him and it almost sends him over the edge but he’s able to keep it with a harsh bite to your shoulder. he really wants to cum but he can’t because he knows that you would hate having to walk in public with his cum dripping out of you, he regrets not bring a plug with him to keep you stuffed, so he reluctantly pulls out after the waves of your orgasm fade.

“cant fucking wait for us to get home, lets go pay for these and leave”

he gently sets you down and the both of you work on fixing your appearance in the mirror though theres nothing that will hide your bite marks, not that there’s anything you can do about that. you change back into your original outfit and he picks up all the dresses you left hanging on the wall and opens the door leading the both of you out.

it’s hard not to notice the stares of the other customers and he cant help but smile knowing that everyone definitely knows how good he fucked you. the cashiers face is reddened and you notice that she fails to meet either of your gazes as he pays for the dresses, you hide behind him in shame and wait for him to finish paying before quickly pulling him out the store.

✰ so what if you hear people whispering as you walk past.

✰ so what if he has to walk through the mall with a prominent bugle in his pants.

✰ why should it matter if when he gets home he drops all the bags on the floor and fucks you against the door again and then fucks you in all the pretty dresses he bought.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

@riowmie @tyunixia

358 notes · View notes

jeongharine · 6 months

Text

a sea of tangerines

⚝ mingyu x reader

⚝ angst, romance, established couple, smut

⚝ notes: i really can't get out of my mind that postcard so i had to use it in the story to get it out of my system. i think it has become one of my favourite written letters by an anonymous on the web.

anyways, happy early holidays to you reading. hope this period treats you well x

christmas eve, in a metropolis somewhere in the world.

"we used to live here together. i’m walking down the streets with a bag of tangerines in this city that we liked to call home. this is the only address that i could think of. happy holidays"

it was a hectic busy evening of december. the subway was full and mingyu really just wanted to rest. to lay on his comfy sofa and laze for the last days before the christmas crazyness. but he was stuck in a stupid metallic transport that had the resemblance of an infinite tunnel, with what seemed like the rest of the whole city.

something poked his tired left foot. then another, and another one. tangerines. a dozens of them. a wave of tangerines coming up at his feet.

he raised his head, and that’s when he spotted a ripped shopping bag held with all its might by slender fingers.

that’s when you spotted strong hands coming at you with your tangerines, a whispered sorry coming out of your mouth.

“it’s absurd really, a sea of tangerines coming up at my feet as if i had been the seashore. i thought i had hallucinations or something,”

that made you smile. “if only the supermarket shopping bags were not so shitty and-” “it was only a bag of tangerines rolling down the subway, though.”

right. it was only that.

“where you stopping by the way? maybe you do need a hand now,”

a puzzled look on your face. but then a smile. “right, me and my unwieldy tangerines need some help,”

that made him smile, though it was only a bag of tangerines rolling down the subway.

you left the natural tangerines onto the kitchen counter. the market with the fresh products wasn’t that far from your apartment and you waited for the rain to stop to go and do some grocery, wetting yourself nonetheless because the rain started again on your way back.

busy streets had stopped their chant and the citylights brightly lit around when mingyu stopped by.

“hey,” he ruffled his black hair back with a smile, stepping inside.

“you made it home early,” the heavy door creaking a little while closing it. “it was a bit hectic but yeah,”

“you did well,” you complimented. you looked at him fondly, making sure he took in the praise. it was never easy for him, and you knew it well. “join me on the sofa after you showered?” pointing at his sweaty tshirt.

mingyu hummed, pleased. “got something in mind?” you chuckled.

“actually, i just would like to spend some cozy time with my boyfriend if you mind,” you answered. mingyu couldn’t hide his disappointment, looking sullen like he’d wish for another answer. “i was kidding gyu, if you want to keep your girlfriend occupied in some other way it’s fine as well.”

it was one in the morning, the lamp dimly lit the room against the bingling lights of the street outside. mingyu shut the tv before slouching on the cushions next to you. he curled behind you, the smell of fabric softener and vanilla shampoo all around you.

he sighed deeply, nose buried in the crook of his loved one. the suspire beard in itself all the tiredness and weariness of the long day. “how long can you stay this time?”

“about ten days more or less,” you replied. after college you made it into the marketing world, and managed to get a good position job for a firm in the city. it was a source of proudness for you, for your parents and mingyu. but everything always comes with a burden. and travelling for work wasn’t that simple anymore.

distance was never easy, constantly keeping that in mind and making time to never skip anniversaries and holidays. you settled for that, and knew it would be challenging but this would have done for now.

“tired?”

“mmh,” he mumbled, leaving a trail of kisses on your neck. “it was very busy tonight in the restaurant. lots of dishes to prepare.” he placed his hand on your belly, slowly following the rising of your breaths. he took them in. mingyu would always be ready to take everything that’s bothering you.

there was a scratch on your watch, mingyu dropped it on the pavement last time you went away. he gently pulled you in, making you turn to face him.

his rough hand met your cheek, thumb stroking it gently to draw your mouth closer to his. his tongue eager, tiredness was not so present anymore. and so he kissed you like all the stars in the sky above would have exploded.

“i like this couch though,” mingyu whispered, lips damp from the kiss. “what do you mean?”

“that your boyfriend has something else in mind,” mingyu answered.

“bed’s waiting then.” you intertwined your fingers with his, leaving a peck on his nose.

the city lights danced slowly outside the window, a siren breaking the silence of the night when you went to the bedroom. everyone was asleep in the nearby apartments and you moved around like new lovers, when taking the risk of getting caught. but the night was gentle to you, keeping your secrecy like an oath.

being extra cautious when you brought mingyu in, the latter trying not to knock you over the drawer of your room when stripping you. you tumbled onto the white sheets, legs forever intertwined.

“i want to marry you.” mingyu whispered, kissing you gently on the shoulder. “i found the perfect house for us, not too far from the subway for the airport and the restaurant.”

the bed squeaked, and you smiled. you wanted that, as badly as mingyu wanted it. but it was not in your nature to rush things. mingyu looked at you fondly, the moon was brighter and he could see your soul.

“that sounds nice gyu, maybe we can look at it with purpose in a few months.”

“yeah? y/n, you’re not fooling with me right?”

“no, i just need a few months to adjust some things at work then we can start to really think about it,” you replied, heart beating like it never had before. “come here and kiss me,” you caressed his black locks of hair. but mingyu didn’t.

he started to trail kisses lower down your neck, breasts, stomach and slipped your undies down kissing your pubic bone and you were not prepared for it. “gyu–”

“i missed you, let me treat you as you deserve..”

mingyu got you wrapped around his finger with his sweet mouth and hand intertwined with yours. “oh,” you sighed when he suckled a little bit harder. “i don’t think i can last.”

“should i stop then?” mingyu asked, after pulling off with a pop.

“n–no, keep going baby,” you whined. the heat of the moment and your slick making you sticky, you were desperately thrusting up your hips in his face, which wasn’t easy but you tried nonetheless. mingyu responded to you with low groans, leaving your pussy unkissed like a punishment.

“you’re so annoying.” “stop whining like a baby,” he kissed you, galaxies exploding far away but the chanting of the subway trains covered it into the night. “you taste like tangerines,”

“ate them before,” “you’re the sweetest.” mingyu meant it literally, but you smiled like it was said just to please you. your head tilted into the soft pillow when his lips met yours with another kiss, tongue muffling all the noises.

he grabbed your back, twisting you over with the tug of his hand down his thigh. you had your leg splayed over mingyu’s waist, heavy breaths, you studied him with a perplexed cast. “want to make love to me like this?”

“honey, for i do really love giving you a good pound into the bed i don’t have it in me right now.” you laughed, sliding off mingyu’s underwear fast. “you still have that oil there?”

“yep,” you emphasized on the p while mingyu reached to your bedside table. his slicked up dick teased along your pussy’s lips just to hear you sigh before he slid in. a moan buried in his sweaty neck. “f-fuck .”

mingyu growled lowly. hands on your ass so the grinding was smoother on the push down. your eyes rolling back stupidly. “feels so good baby, fuck.”

the praise made you quiver. heavy panting, desperate breathing, slippery fair skin on tan skin, tits and pecs knocking against each other because you were that close.

mingyu rutted up another inch, your gut twisted. “y-yeah , i like that–” mingyu gasped loudly, inhaling fast. “if you keep talking i might pound into you.”

“guess you’re not tired anymore then.” “i always work hard for you.” you did not fight him when he laid you flat on the mattress under himself. you choked on a breath when mingyu couldn’t keep it to himself from fucking you that hard, especially when you were lain pliant like this. all exposed just for him and no-one else. fuck if it will never stop to drive him stupid.

the bed creaked under mingyu’s ministrations, his hips snapped rapidly and the sheets were bunched up tight in your fists. you couldn’t say you were not into it either.

you didn’t push away mingyu’s fingers when he placed it on your delicate nub and started to circle on it. “you have to come first,” and it was not hard for him to accomplish that, you gave it to him shortly after. burning hot along your nerves, you felt the sweet unraveling you never could control, and mingyu felt it as well when your hot spurts spilled onto his abdomen, grabbing onto his bulky arms as if they were your personal lifeline.

you breathed in satisfaction, and mingyu was desperate for his high then, pumping fast for an orgasm he waited all day for and spilling over your stomach. he pumped slowly then, tiredness hitting him. “dirty.”

he chuckled when you locked him in an embrace. “i want to marry you now, tonight even.”

you bubbled with a laugh. “i know, but give me at least three months.”

“one month.”

“no baby, i’m serious.” he replied, impatience slowly started building its home in the back of his mind. “do you want to go out and take a stroll around the city tomorrow?”

“yes, i would love to. i worked so hard today.” “i know.”

mingyu sighed. “but i will always work harder for you.” he promised kissing your nose, christmas lights sparkling the night sky hiding his promise.

you hummed into his damp hair. you would only take one month. mingyu had worked hard enough.

#mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #mingyu smut #seventeen fic #mingyu fic #svt fic #mingyu x y/n #seventeen smut #mingyu scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines

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autisticlancemcclain · 8 months

Text

“You’re nervous.”

“Hnnngh,” Keith says, knuckles white on the steering wheel. He looks straight ahead, left leg bouncing, hair pulled back into a ponytail but flyaways everywhere. He keeps having to push up his glasses when they slide down his nose, nudged forward by all the tension in his eyebrows. “Being stressed before a stressful situation is not being nervous, Lance, it’s just my brain responding like a brain.”

Lance hides a smile. “You’ve met my family before, baby.”

Keith slows to a stop as they approach their turn, looking at Lance instead of the road for the first time in twenty minutes. His indigo eyes are wide and pleading. Lance is distracted by the tiny mole beside his nose.

“I’ve met your mom,” he says emphatically, breaking eye contact with Lance to crane his head to the left, checking over the hill for any cars. He’s far more careful than he needs to be — there’s never anyone on this road. But Keith is always endlessly careful when he’s driving other people around. “I’ve met your siblings. I’ve met your abuela. I’ve met the twins.”

“Mighty number of people,” Lance agrees. He looks at his boyfriend pointedly. “All of whom love you.”

“Because they love you,” Keith stresses. “You’re, like, their favourite person. You hyped me up so of course they have a nicer view of me. But this is like — your great grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles and, I dunno, second sister in law five times removed —

“Not how that works,” Lance interjects, amused.

“—and now I gotta impress them all? At once? I still don’t know how I did that with everyone else! I panicked! I forgot all my lines and conversation starters! I just — was awkward, and they were cool with it because your family is cool!”

“Ah, yes, you were yourself and people liked you,” Lance says, nodding sagely. “How bizarre.”

Keith looks at him imploringly. He has a — really cute nose, holy shit. It’s crooked from the three separate times it’s been broken and Lance is kind of obsessed with it. All he can think about is pressing a kiss to the bridge of it and watching how Keith will crinkle it on reflex. He has to fight back a giggle.

“I am going to get eaten,” Keith says miserably. “My luck is going to wear out. I’m gonna say something stupid and offend your third cousin or trip over someone’s toddler and destroy your mother’s flan by crashing into the table and upending hot coffee on an elderly person. Then I’ll get arrested for assault and you’ll have to visit me in prison and my cellmate will make a comment about you or something and I’ll have to kill him and then I’ll get retried and the death sentence, probably, and then Red will bust me out of prison and cause intergalactic meltdowns and —”

Lance can’t hold back anymore. Quick as a dart he reaches out, fisting Keith’s collar, and yanks him over the gearshift, kissing him softly and soundly until Keith sighs, surprise fading into something calmer, relaxed. His hand comes up to cup Lance’s cheek.

“You need a Xanax,” Lance says gently as he pulls away.

Keith huffs, the manic look in his eyes replaced with something much softer. Relieved, even. “Yeah, probably.” He tears his eyes away from Lance, rechecking his turn and finally actually putting on his blinker and moving onto the right road. His free hand reaches over the gearshift and Lance grabs it, tangling their fingers together and resting them in his lap. “I just — I want your family to like me.”

Lance smiles, a wide one that brings a flush to his cheeks and makes him shy, even though he’s not self-conscious; a smile that makes something flutter so intensely in his stomach that it feels so intensely private.

“They’ll like you,” Lance says simply.

Keith exhales. His hand tightens. Lance squeezes back.

The rest of the drive is easy.

———

By the time they make it to Lance’s great-grandmother’s farm, he can tell that some tension has crawled back into Keith’s shoulders. But he’s always been brave, when fighting dictators or meeting parents, and doesn’t hesitate to pull into the gravel driveway and park the car. He squeezes Lance’s hand again before letting go, stepping out of the car and heading to get their stuff.

“Tío! Tío!” scream two voices, and Lance doesn’t even have half a second to brace himself before Nadia is launching herself at his stomach. He manages somehow to spin them both around to offset the momentum, keeping them both upright. Keith is not quite so lucky — Lance hears a slam, a startled oof, and then he sees their bags go flying out of the corner of his eye.

“Jesus Christ,” Keith wheezes, flat on the ground with Sylvio crowded on top of him.

“I got you!” the boy crows, scrambling off Keith’s body in order to adequately dance around in victory. “You went splat!” He whirls around to face Lance, still dancing around. “Tío Lance! Did you see?”

Lance adjusts Nadia on his hip, making no attempt to hide his amusement. “I did. You got him good, buddy.”

Beaming, Sylvio turns back to Keith, who’s finally managed to get enough breath back in his lungs to stand.

“You got me good,” he wheezes in approval.

“Just like you showed me!”

There’s no mistaking the smugness in Sylvio’s voice, the challenge, the I’m-little-you’re-big-and-you’re-a-loser.

Keith recognises the challenge easily, eyes glinting, and before Sylvio can run away Keith scoops him up, tossing him over his shoulder and whirling them around ‘til he’s dizzy.

“Just like I showed you, champ. Think you can get out of this one, though? It’s easy!”

Sylvio shrieks, pounding on Keith’s back with fists weak from laughter. Nadia squirms in Lance’s hold, so Lance sets her down, and in seconds she’s run and attacked Keith’s other side, climbing up his legs to try and free her brother. Keith scoops her up, too, throwing her over his other shoulder as she laughs just as shrilly.

“Clearly neither of you learned very much!” he shouts, grin so wide it practically splits his face. His already precariously dangling glasses slide right off his face but Keith doesn’t even spare them a glance, stepping over them easily and shaking the twins as he goes. “You’re trapped!”

It doesn’t take the bright twins very long to unite forces, attacking Keith with renewed vigour all at once. Lance bends down as they wrestle, scooping up Keith’s glasses and their discarded bags.

“He’s good with them,” Lisa says, sidling up beside him and sliding her hand around his waist. Lance mirrors her, squeezing.

“He thinks they’re hilarious. He loves them to pieces.”

“Believe me, they love him too. I heard about Uncle Keith so much on the drive down that I was tired of him before you two even got here.”

Lance snorts. “Yeah, right, dweeb. No one else here reads Jane Austen. You need your nerd buddy.”

“Indeed,” she says, grinning. She pats him on the hip, pulling away and taking one of the bags slung over his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get your stuff dropped off. Marcela will want to fuss over you, I’m sure. She hasn’t seen you since your last mission.”

Lance looks back at his boyfriend before following her, making sure he doesn’t need Lance’s help. The twins have wrestled him into doing their bidding, it looks like, or more likely he didn’t even put up a fight, and sit on one shoulder each, guiding him around the property with shouts and points and frenzied gesturing. Keith has his hand locked firmly over each set of knees, careful not to let them fall, as he wobbles around to make them gasp and laugh.

Lance smiles. He’s fine.

———

Keith finds him within the hour, Nadia and Sylvio off to play with their cousins.

“You abandoned me,” he pouts, hand wrapped around his elbow.

Lance notices, idly, that he’s slouching again; that his ponytail has been abandoned entirely and his hair curtains his face.

Hm.

“You were busy being a doofus,” Lance teases, brushing his hair out of his face. He nobly resists the urge to quote Regina George. “One of us has to be the mature one. We wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong impression about the saviours of the universe.

“You’re hiding out on a random couch on your phone,” Keith deadpans. He glances down at the screen. “You’re watching a seven year old vine compilation. On mute.”

“Like an adult,” Lance says primly. “Watch with me.”

Keith rolls his eyes fondly, but slides on the couch behind Lance, arms wrapped around his waist and chin hooked over his shoulder. Lance digs in his pockets until he finds Keith’s glasses, twisting around to slide them on his handsome face. His hands linger on Keith’s temples. Keith’s smile is small and crooked and bares the tiniest peek of crooked incisors, and Lance’s heart flutters.

He leans back into Keith’s chest as he plays the video, watching a compilation of dorky videos he’s seen a thousand times. He feels Keith’s grin press into the juncture of his neck as he starts to mumble along. His hand rests just under Lance’s shirt, flat on his stomach. Lance fights the urge to squirm.

You Are In Your Abuela’s House, he reminds himself firmly. Your Ancestors Are Watching You. And Jesus, Probably.

Luckily, someone calls out their names before Lance really needs to find a vat of ice water to dunk himself in.

“Leandro! Keith! Come eat before your hog of a brother takes it all!”

The two of them don’t even need to pause for a moment before throwing themselves off the couch, scrambling towards the kitchen at top speeds because Marco absolutely will eat their portion of the food. Not even because he’s hungry for it, just because he’s a butthead who thinks it’s funny.

“This is your fault,” Keith informs him, careening around a questionably placed side table.

“Nothing is ever my fault ever in the entire universe,” Lance shoots back.

(Is it Lance’s fault? Possibly. But in his defense, the several years he spent as a child waiting for Marco to be distracted before eating his favourite thing on the plate still make him crack up when he thinks about it. Marco just got so mad, every time. Plus his eyes bulge a little when he loses it. How was Lance ever supposed to avoid poking that bear?)

Luckily, they make it in time to wrestle a plate away from Marco’s snickering ass.

“Keith, Lance,” Lance’s mother greets warmly before Lance can crack a plate over his brother’s head. “I’m glad you made it!”

“Mother,” Lance squawks dramatically, hand flying to his chest, “I am the second to be greeted? You’re son? You’re youngest angel? The one who went missing for several years and returned to you, prodigal?”

She reaches over and flicks Lance in the forehead. Keith snorts. Marco cackles.

“Keith called me on the flight home,” she explains, ruthless. “So he is the son, and you are the son-in-law.”

Keith flushes as he always does when Mamá pairs them like that, when they’re both her sons, when she implies what it implies. Lance lets the warmth of that expression soak into his bones, deep in through his back, from every point Keith is touching him.

“I was sleeping off being maimed!” Lance despairs.

It does him no favours. Mamá waves her hands wildly, setting down her own plate in favour of placing her hands over her ears. “Gah! Sh! Do not tell me of these things! I am meant to pretend your job is nothing more than ornamental! Do not ruin that for me!”

“It was the slightest ever maiming,” Lance mutters, sullen.

Keith visibly bites back a retort to that, no doubt out of respect for Mamá.

(Lance knows that Keith would have been the world’s biggest mama’s boy had he grown up with Krolia. He has shared this hypothesis with Shiro, who had laughed so hard upon hearing it that he had sprained a muscle in his neck, and then explained later with a heat pack and a wryly smiling Adam that Keith used to scold Shiro for pushing himself with exact quotes from Shiro’s mother herself.)

“Nobody ever wants to hear my side of the story,” Lance laments.

Keith bends down to kiss him on the cheek.

“That’s because you are a liar,” he says kindly.

Lance catches his chin before he can pull away, kissing him to shut him up.

They head outside to join everyone else, plates stacked high with food and plastic cups balanced precariously with spare fingers. Keith starts to slouch again as they walk out the sliding screen door, but he keeps his hair out of his face, eyes flitting between different people. It helps that hardly anyone spares him half a glance, too used to random new people in such a big family.

“Hey, Patito! Over here!”

Lance whips his head up at the familiar voice, breaking into a wide smile when he sees his sister’s wilding waving hand. Keith, too, seems relieved when he catches sight of Veronica, rushing over almost faster than Lance is.

“Hey, losers,” she greets, flicking water from her cup at them as they sit across from her. “Took you long enough to get here.”

“Lance is a distraction and danger to the road,” Keith says immediately, because he is a snitch. He is also unfortunately very quick and manages to duck away from Lance’s pinch.

Veronica snorts. “Believe me, I know. Every ride back to the Garrison on weekends was a near death experience because he kept smacking me every ten seconds. A menace.”

“You manipulator!” Lance accuses. “I slapped you because you teased me! Constantly!”

Keith and Veronica share sharp, matching grins. Lance takes a nanosecond to ponder what he ever did to deserve the sufferings of their friendship.

“That’s because you’re so goddamn easy to rile up, sweetheart,” Keith says with a wink.

Lance attempts to shove him off his chair. Unfortunately, while he does flail backwards, he manages to stay upright.

“You two were supposed to hate each other,” he mutters into his congrí. “This friendship thing is bullshit.”

Neither believe him for a second.

They’re barely into their meal when the nosiness starts. In fact, Lance is honestly surprised it has lasted this long. Luis probably said something to convince everyone to tone it down, because he is a saint and also Lance’s favourite.

“So,” says his Aunt Vena, “…Keith.”

Keith freezes, cheeks bulging. Lance tries very hard not to laugh at him.

“Hi,” he says, swallowing. He says nothing else and looks agonized about it. His memorized conversation starters have no doubt fled his brain.

“You know, I feel like I already know you,” jokes Aunt Vena, never bothered by awkwardness. Or boundaries. “I only see Leandro a few times a year were the only thing he talked about for ages.”

Lance goes pale. Oh, please God, no. Please let Aunt Vena be suddenly gifted with the ability to read Lance’s mind, or at least notice him waving his hands frantically behind Keith’s head, making cutting motions at his throat.

“Keith this, Keith that. Keith Keith Keith.”

Lance cradles his face in his hands. So much for miracles.

“He did?” Keith asks.

“Stop investigating immediately or you’re sleeping on the floor tonight,” Lance threatens under his breath. Keith’s hand finds it’s way to his thigh and rests there, as if laughing at him.

“Oh, yes,” laughs Aunt Vena. “Every other word was about how you sat in class or walked in the hall or flew your planes. He was always angry about it, but he was quite focused on you. Oh, and your hair.”

Aunt Vena turns away to chatter with someone else like she didn’t just ruin Lance’s life. Lance would hate her if he didn’t find her so goddamn loveable, but he does, so instead he looks up and suffers Keith’s wide, shit-eating grin, and ponders deep in his heart how he will re-humble his boyfriend so they’re back on even ground.

“…You were big on the hair, huh.”

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll chop it off as you sleep.”

———

“Keith.”

“I’m just saying.”

“You dorkbrain.”

“I’m just saying!”

Keith’s hair is in a knot at the crown of his head, glasses pushed all the way to his face. He’s got Lance’s hand in his but he’s not paying attention to him in the slightest — he cycles between leaning back, then forwards, then craning his neck and shifting his eyes. Every few seconds he lets out a muted gasp.

A group of children run yelling in and out of the house, heedless of doors and stairs.

“You are such a mother hen,” Lance says with great amusement.

Keith is too distracted to even roll his eyes. “Some of them are very little,” he says worriedly. “Maybe they should play a game outside. There’s more space.” He looks around at the various adults sitting and chatting, aghast. “Should me maybe get a — pool noodle, or something? Just for the corners. So there are no head injuries. That’s the most common way they happen, you know. Tripping during play.”

Lance hums, leaning into his side. “Reading a lot of parenting books, are you.”

Keith is very deliberately silent. Lance flicks up his gaze to watch his face redden.

“…Akira.”

“It’s Shiro’s!” he says defensively. “It was — he had it on the shelf! I read it when I was younger! It was traumatizing! Do you know how easy it is to fuck up a kid? Very easy, Lance! Their heads are very squishy! They don’t know balance yet! They repeat everything you say!”

“Was this book,” Lance starts, choking back laughter with everything he has, “perhaps about raising toddlers?”

Keith’s jaw snaps shut.

“Children under two? Hm?”

Keith glances away. “It didn’t mention.”

Lance loses his battle, burying his cackling in Keith’s shoulder.

“How was I supposed to know that ��A Guide To Raising Healthy Children For New Parents’ was about — babies? Shiro was the dumbass who had it!”

Lance laughs harder. “Did he — did he buy it when he —”

Keith puts his head in his hands. “He bought, like, forty books when he first started fostering me, they were all basically the same, he’s such a dumbass —”

“Stop, stop,” Lance begs, grasping his aching stomach. The image of Shiro, twenty years old, panicking after impulsively deciding to apply to foster the delinquent who stole his car, frantically googling advice for new parents only to unknowingly receive information about toddlers is the best mental image he’s had in a while. He’ll have to share with Pidge and the rest of the Holts the second they get home.

“You’re such a butthead,” Keith grumbles, but it’s half-hearted. His attention is still mostly on the way Mateo, Lance’s four year old second cousin, very nearly brains himself on the corner of the brick entryway trying to swerve away from his older sister. Keith’s sharp inhale would have been comical if Lance didn’t feel his own heart drop.

“Okay,” Lance concedes, “maybe it’s time for a new game.” He pats his boyfriend on the knee. “You’re up, champ.”

“Wait, me?” Keith asks, bewildered. “You’re their cousin.”

Lance shrugs. “You’re the worried one. Plus, I want to go get wine drunk with Rachel. Mamá said she just got here. She’s been avoiding my calls all week which means she has Information to share and doesn’t trust herself not to tell me immediately. I have to know what’s up.”

Keith still doesn’t look convinced. “But I’m a stranger to them, basically.”

“So start with Nadia and Sylvio, dummy. Once the rest of the kids see a cool newer and accidentally safer game to play, they’ll join fast. Plus, the stranger aspect is intriguing, probably. You’re like a new toy.”

To solidify his point, Lance calls his niblings over, gesturing to Keith. The twins light up, immediately abandoning whatever they’re doing — trying to shove a sleeping Luis’ finger up his own nose — to sprint over to them.

“Tío Keith has a game for you two,” Lance whispers conspirationally.

The twins burst into howling cheers.

“Game! Game! Game! Game!” they chant, each grabbing one of Keith’s hands and tugging him away.

Keith looks back at him, panicked. Lance blows him a kiss, then turns back into the house to go hunt for his sister.

She finds him first.

“LANCE,” she shouts, whipping around to face him. Lance immediately shifts backwards slightly, knees bent, legs widened, arms held out protectively in front of him. He smirks. She matches it.

She charges.

She aerials into a heel kick, as always, aiming for his skull. Lance back handsprings out of her reach, careful of the various relatives around him, who are well used to their brand of bullshit and don’t even pause their conversations as they lean away.

He comes back up just in time to throw up a block to her fists, aiming a kick to her stomach that she can’t fully dodge. She gets him right back, though, like she always does, aiming a sweeping kick for his ankles that he has to flip on his hands to avoid.

“It’s good to see you, fucker,” she pants, roundhouse kicking the dip of his waist.

“Likewise, asshole,” he grunts, grabbing her ankle and flipping her to the ground. She drags him down with her.

They’re both grinning.

“Tomorrow morning we box for real,” she proposes as they lay there, getting their breath back.

“Deal,” he agrees.

By the time they finally get back on their feet, they’re both parched, and since they also make frequent poor decisions, they head straight for the bad boxed wine. Lance pours them both heaping glasses and Rachel guides them to an open lawn chair, which they both sprawl on, a hundred percent in each other’s space.

“So,” Rachel says, chugging half her glass, “my grades are in. I’m graduating top of my class.”

Lance gasps. “Rachel!”

“And,” she continues, building up suspense with a grin, “I got word back from all my residency applications.”

Lance thinks he might explode. He remembers them when they were little, huddled on the floor of their bedroom at one in the morning, glow sticks guiding their planners, mapping out heir lives together. Where they would go to school, when they would bother with dating, how they would do it all together. Lance, best pilot to come out of the Garrison next to Shirogane. Rachel, the first surgeon to successfully transplant a brain.

“I got in,” she says, beam so wide it forces her eyes shut. “Lance, I got in!”

“Rach!” he screams, eyes blurry from tears and heart full to bursting. “Rach!”

He wraps his arms around her shoulders and squeezes, weeping with joy and elation and buzzing from his head to his toes. This is what Rachel has wanted since she was old enough to talk. This is his sister, his first and best friend, getting everything she has ever wanted, as she has always deserved.

“I’m so fucking proud of you!”

She squeezes him right back, her own tears wetting his t-shirt. Her relief is palpable, and Lance knows it, the indescribable feeling of finally crossing that goddamn mountain, finally getting what you’ve been working for for longer than you can remember.

“Everything is falling into place,” she says softly, pulling back and holding up her cup. Lance laughs and clinks them together.

They settle back into their shared chair, too happy for words, gathering themselves. Lance catches his mother’s eye and returns her soft smile, wine making him warm and happiness making him bright. He feels like he’s swimming in sun-warmed water.

He settles back with a sigh.

Rachel nudges him. “Hey, Loverboy. Look.”

Lance follows her pointing finger. Away from the tables and lawn chairs, in a wide, open space, there’s Keith — surrounded by every single child on the property, ordered in neat rows. Each of them has a hefty stick, held carefully in their hands, watching Keith with great intensity. Keith himself has his bayard out, stretched out in a battle position, back straight and shoulders loose. He has the same bright look on his face that he has during Lion training, or riskier missions. Excitement, steadiness, and a hint of cockiness that has Lance shivering. He demonstrates a move, and with a single minded focus, the children repeat it.

It has always been impossible not to want to be a part of everything Keith does, Lance has found.

“…You kind of scored,” Rachel observes.

Lance’s laughter is breathy, high-pitched. “Believe me, I know.”

There’s a rousing shout from the kids, then a cheer, then Keith shouts, “Ready?” and at their raucous response, chaos breaks out. Sticks are strikes and parried and children throw themselves dramatically on the floor in pantomimed deaths, scrambling to their feet seconds later to get back into the fray. Every few seconds Keith calls out rules and reminders, weaving through the children to point out places for improvement or congratulate someone for doing something right.

“I have never seen them all gathered this long without any crying or fighting,” Rachel says, something like awe in her voice. She pauses. “Well, real fighting.”

Lance smiles, something small and secret and over which he has no control. He catches his boyfriend’s eye and waves, which is returned at twice the enthusiasm.

“Keith’s good with kids,” he says quietly. To himself, he wonders if it’s possible to have a heart so full it bursts.

———

The blankets are scratchy but warm, and Keith smells as he always does, and Lance is half asleep. But the words come leisurely out anyway.

“You awake?“ he whispers, words tucked into the spot above Keith’s heart.

Keith hums. Lance feels the rumble of it in his cheek.

“Barely.”

His eyes are too heavy to keep open, so he lets them slip shut. He breathes deeply the smell of his boyfriend’s body wash, and traces meaningless patterns on his chest with his fingertips, breathing slowly, taking his time. He might fall asleep, but that’s okay. They have time.

“‘M glad you came, today.”

Keith’s breathing is slow and even, just like Lance’s, but he can feel the heavy weight of his gaze, those indigo eyes.

“I go where you go.”

Lance quirks his lips. The blankets rustle softly as Keith slowly slides up his hand, encircling his fingers around Lance’s wrist, palm resting on his forearm. After a minute Lance can feel his heartbeat, at the same time that he hears it, head pressed to Keith’s chest. “You’re good with the kids.”

Keith’s breath stutters. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I like them. And your family.”

“Told you.”

“Yeah, you did.” He’s silent for a minute, palm heavy on Lance’s skin. “I wanna — do this, Lance. Forever.”

Lance turns his head slightly, just enough to press his lips to Keith’s sternum. “I will love you until the end of time.”

He feels Keith’s smile, sweetening the air.

“I love you, too.”

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judeswhore · 1 year

Text

don’t call me baby - jude bellingham

summary: jude isn’t happy you brought a date to the monthly hangout and jealousy gets the better of him

pairing: situationship!jude x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, minors dni, fingering, choking

notes: you can find my masterlist here. kinda based on this ask that i got

"ow, what're you doing? get off." jude clicked his tongue at your tone and the way you yanked your arm from his grip, pushed you lightly through the bathroom door. he locked it behind you, leant up against it with a deep frown. you hated him for looking so hot when he was clearly pissed off at you. you matched his glare with one of your own. "what do you want?"

"you brought a date?" it was mostly an amused scoff but you heard the hard edge of annoyance in the last word, a stab of victory flaring inside of you. you folded your arms and leant back against the bathroom counter, the few feet between you suddenly feeling like miles. your skin felt hot under his gaze, need blooming deep in your chest because it had been at least two weeks since he'd last touched you and as much as you hated it, you craved the feeling of him.

"he's not my date."

"he know that?" you narrowed your eyes at the boy in front of you before lowering your gaze, picking at your nails in a disinterested manner. your heart thudded because he'd stepped a little closer and you could smell the faint scent of his aftershave. it was your favourite, the one he told you once he only wore because he knew you liked it and knowing he'd chosen to wear it tonight made you just a little giddy.

"probably," you shrugged. "who cares, i'll be going home with him whether he's my date or not." you wouldn't be but jude didn't need to know that. you wanted to rile him up enough that he'd break the two week drought you'd been in. you knew it was working when his jaw clenched, nostrils flaring just a little. his brows dug a deeper groove in his forehead and he took another step towards you. his white shirt was open at the top and the tiny slither of skin almost had you drooling.

"oh really?"

"mhm, he promised he'd take care of me." jude's eyes flashed and then suddenly he was directly in front of you, both hands on the counter by your hips to block you in. he'd clocked the underlying meaning to your words and you knew he wasn't happy, the glare on his face making you ache, thighs pressing together in an attempt to dull the feeling. the scent of his aftershave again wrapped around you, made you want to press your face into his neck and breathe him in.

"did he now? what exactly did he promise he'd do, babe?" his head dipped and for the first time in two weeks his lips were on your skin. he brushed them lightly over your jaw, grinned when you shivered against him and your head tipped back just slightly. his touch was too light, his chest too far away. you wanted him against you, wanted to feel the heat of his skin, to feel his fingers grip you so hard there were guaranteed to be bruises left behind. "he promise he'd fuck you?"

"i don't really think it's any of your business." your voice shook just a little because he'd sunk his teeth softly into the sweet spot below your ear, soothed his tongue over the mark only a second later. everything beyond the bathroom door faded away, it was just the two of you, still stuck in this dangerous dance. you needed him to touch you properly, to get it over with because the ache was so intense you almost wanted to cry. hands balled into fists, you refused to touch him first, willed him with your mind to press his hand beneath your skirt.

"is that a no then?" he made a noise of faux sympathy, lifted his head from the crook of your neck and met your gaze again. a hand lifted from the counter and he brushed his knuckles softly over your jaw, the gesture far too adoring for the relationship the two of you had. you tried not to lean into him, swallowed thickly when he thumbed at your bottom lip. "how long's it been?"

"hm?" you couldn't think straight, his hips were flush to yours and you could feel his cock, hard and heavy pressing against you. his fingers danced across your throat, tickled over your collarbone but he kept his eyes fixed on yours, even when they grazed the swell of your boob in the low cut top you'd chosen to wear.

"how long's it been since someone fucked you?" he wasn't asking out of innocent curiosity, what he really wanted to know was if he had been the last person to fuck you. instead of answering you gave him a half shrug. "well you're looking at me like you want me to take you right now so i'm guessing it's been a while." his lips tilted into a smug smirk, his hand finding it's way over your side and down your thigh until he could tug at the hem of your skirt. "tell me you want it."

you stared at him in silence for a few seconds, brows drawn in together, pussy wet and throbbing from how close he was to touching you. his fingers were toying with the lace of your underwear, slipping beneath it to smooth over your skin. he shifted his hips to grind his dick against you and your breath hitched, annoyance and lust tangling together. you were hypersensitive to his touch, to his fingers and the way his lips were hovering over your jaw, his breath washing hot across your skin.

"or do you wanna go home with someone you know can't make you feel as good as i can?" he was so cocky you wanted to punch him but a stronger part of you wanted to kiss him, to shift his hand over just a few inches and let him ruin you. the second part of you won.

"god, you're so fucking full of yourself." your arms were suddenly around his neck, one hand against the back of his head to tug him towards you and the second your lips landed on his it was over. his mouth covered yours in a heated kiss, a sigh of relief catching in your throat. jude pressed a hand against your back, pulled you closer to him as he rocked his hips towards you, his other hand still dangerously close to your pussy.

the kiss turned harsher, the desperate drags of his tongue over yours making it hard to think, even more so when he nipped at your bottom lip. with his foot he knocked your feet a little further apart, pressed you harder into the counter with a low groan. he still wasn't touching you and it was driving you insane, your hips wriggling against him.

"jude."

"tell me what you want."

"you know what i want." his mouth was on your neck, teeth and tongue teasing across your skin until you were whining, all composure out of the window. one of your hands reached for his, fingers wrapping around his wrist to guide him between your legs. he pressed his palm flat over your underwear and let you grind yourself over him.

"tell me or i'll stop."

"why're you being so difficult?"

"if you wanted it that bad you'd just tell me." you rocked into his palm, the constant bump against your clit making your head spin but it still wasn't enough. jude sucked a mark against your jaw. "c'mon, use your words like we talked about." before jude you would never be demanding during sex, would never ask for what you wanted but with him it was different. he wanted you to ask. he wanted you to tell him exactly what you needed from him.

"i want you to make me cum."

"yeah? how?" you pouted despite the fact he wasn't looking at you and pressed a little harder against his palm. your underwear was in the way and the pleasure going to your clit wasn't enough, you needed more of him.

"your fingers. please, jude. want you to finger me." your cheeks burned, half in embarrassment, half in need and jude made a soft sound, kissed his way back to your mouth and offered you a grin.

"what would greg think if he heard you like this?" he slipped his hand into your underwear and the second his middle finger found your clit you went weak against the counter. he circled it slowly.

"his name's george."

"i really don't care." he was kissing you once more, brushing his fingers through your folds before pressing over your clit again. it was humiliating how worked up you already were when he hadn’t really done anything. the slick sounds between your thighs had jude groaning into your mouth. “you’re fucking soaked, babe.”

you thought he was going to draw it out, make you work for it considering how annoyed he’d first seemed but he surprised you when he circled the tip of his finger around your slick hole. he teased it inside, pulled out and went back to your clit, rubbed soft circles over it with the pads of his fingers. your head fell back and his lips were on your throat in an instant, sucking and biting at every bit of skin he could reach, his fingers swiping over you just a little bit faster.

when he finally sunk his fingers into you, your entire body tensed, walls wrapping snug around the two digits and sucking them back in. jude hummed against your skin, let his mouth travel down your chest and across the swell of your boobs. his fingers twisted inside you and he bit down, had you whimpering his name as he marked you with his teeth. his pace started slow and steady, fingers hooking to press against that spongy spot that made your back arch and your legs quiver. your nails dug into the back of his neck and he hissed at the pain.

somewhere in the back of your mind you were aware your friends were all downstairs and had probably realised the two of you had disappeared together. it was no secret to them that the two of you had something going on, they’d caught you on more than a couple of occasions but you’d promised this time was different. you’d sworn there would be no going back to him, george was supposed to be proof of that.

george.

the boy you’d brought along was still downstairs, most definitely wondering where you were and although you should feel bad about that you couldn’t bring yourself to. instead you rocked against jude’s fingers, clenched around them when he scissored them slightly. his thumb was on your clit, pressing over it in messy circles, pushing you further and further towards the edge. you were so wet you could feel it dripping from you, making a mess of your thighs and underwear, stickying jude’s wrist.

“that’s it, fuck, can feel how tight you are, wish i was fucking you with my cock instead .” his mouth found yours again and he kissed you a little harsher than before, slowed the thrusts of his fingers as he switched his angle and pressed them a little deeper. your head felt thick with desperation and you couldn’t bite back the loud moan when the fingers of his other hand curled around your throat. he squeezed the sides lightly, let his mouth hover over yours as he watched your reaction.

“think you can handle another?” for a second you weren’t sure what he was referring to but then he stroked his fingers against your slick walls, smirked and you understand. you were quick to nod, rolling your hips forward again. your tummy burned and your clit throbbed, your orgasm fizzling low inside of you. “good girl.”

his third finger was quick to join the other two, the stretch making you whine and cling to him, pussy clamping down so tight jude gave a low groan of pleasure. his cock was hard in his jeans and he had no issues grinding against you to get some relief. he crooked his fingers and picked up his pace, fucked you so hard tears started to fill your lash line. the sounds were obscene, loud and echoey in the bathroom, your moans and the slick wetness of your cunt fighting for dominance over what could be louder.

jude upped the pressure around your throat, kissed softly at your bottom lip before pressing his forehead to yours. he was so close he was swallowing all the pants and moans you were letting loose, your noises only spurring him on until he was fucking you at such a brutal pace your knees threatened to give out. you clung to his biceps for support, nails digging deep into the muscles they were sure to leave behind marks. the pads of his fingers repeatedly assaulted the most sensitive spot inside of you, each pass against it making you even wetter.

“tell me you missed me, baby.” the term of endearment dripped from his lips in a tone you’d never heard before, soft and adoring, loving like it never had been. it had you whimpering, head shaking as your walls started go spasm around him.

“don’t call me that.” jude blinked and then scoffed, twisted his wrist harshly and bumped your clit. the action was a little mean and you half sobbed in reply, teetering so close to the edge it was almost painful. he squeezed again at your throat, tipped your head back a little and sucked at your jaw again. you knew you were gonna be covered in marks from his hands and his lips but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“y’don’t want me to call you baby but you wanna fuck yourself on my fingers?” you managed a weak glare in response and shut him up with a scathing kiss. he rocked his fingers faster, stretched you open even further with them as you started to gush around them, your orgasm right in front of you. jude knew it too and he pulled back with a slow grin, released your throat so he could wrap the material of your skirt on his fist and lift it.

he made sure your pussy was on display for him, soaked and puffy, tight hole stretched around his fingers and gripping them so tight. he angled his wrist so each time he fucked into you his palm rubbed over your clit, his actions rough and messy the way he knew you liked. his smirk doubled when your thighs started to shake and your moans got increasingly higher in pitch, walls fluttering around his fingers as you tried to suck him back in.

“there it is, c’mon, pretty girl, give it to me. wanna feel you cum. you’re doing so well, taking it like a champ, babe, gonna fuck you later, yeah? cause you’ve been so good f’me.” jude’s words made you light headed, made you ache with the need for release as he kept up the brutal pace. he fucked your hole as you leaked over your wrist, tears spilling over your cheeks from how good his palm felt over clit.

“jude,”

“shh, s’okay, i’ve got you. let it go. c’mon, soak my fingers, want everyone downstairs to know what i’m doing to you.” he let go of your skirt and slipped his hand around the back of your neck, brought you in for a desperate kiss and the second his lips met yours you were letting go.

you came around his fingers with a muffled cry, your release making a mess of his hand, dripping down your thighs as he fingered you through it. he shifted so he could rub soft circled over your clit to drag out the aftershocks, his fingers buried knuckle deep inside of you. he kept them there, stroked your swollen walls until you were shaking your head and clamping your thighs shut.

you pulled your lips from his, blinked heavily at him as he withdrew his fingers, sticky with your cum and brought them up to your mouth. you wrapped your lips around them obediently, sucked and swirled your tongue until they were clean. jude gave a quiet moan, went in for another kiss as soon as you let the three digits go. it was messy and a little lazy, slow drags of his tongue over yours.

you’re not sure how long you stayed like that, his body pressing yours into the counter, your mouths moving in slow tandem, his hand on your hip brushed soothing circles with his thumb. it was intimate, more intimate than coming on his fingers and you knew something had shifted between you. a sudden knock on the bathroom door broke you apart, had you shoving at jude’s chest and straightening out your clothes.

“if you two are done fucking, george is looking for you.” your best friends voice was laced with amusement, a stark contrast to jude’s expression when you met his gaze. his eyes were dark, brows drawn together, a twisted look on annoyance around his mouth. his voice was rough when he spoke.

“why don’t you go be a good girl and tell george you’re leaving early? i’ll get us an uber.” he didn’t have to ask if you were going home with him, it was a given after what had just happened. and it was sad, really, how quickly you'd ruin something good for the smallest chance jude might finally decide he wants you completely.

#jude bellingham #situationship!jude #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham blurb

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wintabite · 2 months

Text

2am ramen

GENRE! fluff

NOTES! gn!reader, wc: 544

SYNOPSIS! it's 2am and you're having a sleepover at riki's, but midway through your all nighter, you're both starving

the sound of a movie from riki's laptop plays in the background as you two lay in his bed, chatting away about something completely unrelated. whenever you'd have a sleepover together, it was either an all nighter or the best and longest sleep you'll ever get.

"are you hungry?" he asks you out of nowhere once you've finished yapping about an annoying cashier you had met a few days ago.

"um, yeah, actually. are you?" you found it a bit odd that he asked out of nowhere, but that's when you realized you were hungry. really hungry. both of you had been so distracted the whole night and hadn't realized until it got to a point of the background movie where some characters were eating dinner.

"great, i really want ramen right now, and you're making it with me!" the boy grabbed onto your wrist gently, dragging you out of bed with him. you two drifted towards his kitchen, he turned on one of the lights, which startled you.

"can you turn on the kettle?" riki asked as he opened one of the cupboards, taking out two cups of ramen and setting them on the counter next to where you and the kettle were. you turned to face him, finding riki standing quite closely to you.

"it's cold" he complained, oddly looking like he was faintly frowning.

"codeword for you want me to hug you" you saw right through him. riki nodded, and of course you gave in when he looked at you with eyes of pure admiration. wrapping your arms around him, you buried your head in his chest, your favourite thing to do. he did the same, resting his head in the crook of your neck. the only sound in the kitchen was the kettle and both of your faint breaths. it was really peaceful, and sure, you were pulling an all nighter, but you could have fallen asleep right then and there. unfortunately, after what felt too short, the kettle beeped, meaning it was done boiling.

"i'm gonna fight my kettle for this.." he mumbled playfully, pulling away and going to pour the boiling water into the ramen cups. you watched carefully, the warm steam brushing against your face.

"it's just me pouring water, it's not that interesting, y/n" he teased you, setting the kettle back down in it's original spot and closing the top part of the cups to let them sit.

"oh, shut up" you rolled your eyes, lightly punching his shoulder "you're losing kissing privileges for the rest of the night!" the perfect punishment for him, although, you knew he wouldn't last, neither would you.

" right.. we'll see about that.."

a few minutes past, they were just spent talking with the occasional sneak-attack-kiss from riki, which always failed because you just dodged them. the ramen had finished, and it felt like forever. without even thinking about it, you immediately started eating it, ignoring how hot it was.

"as a thank you for the ramen, you could kiss me?" he pitched the idea as you two leaned against the kitchen island, just standing there instead of going to sit somewhere.

"after, ki" after, you did kiss him, and also kissed him for each time you blocked his sneak-attacks

a/n: honestly my fave post so far this was so fun

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen niki #enhypen riki #ni ki #niki x reader #nishimura riki #riki fluff #riki x reader

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updownlately · 9 months

Text

in your embrace (this crowded room doesn’t matter)

| leah williamson x reader

~~~

“You tired yet?” The soft murmur of words against your ear had you relaxing, the familiar voice automatically putting you at ease.

Closing your eyes at the feel of her breath on your ear, you hummed in thought, processing the question as music filtered in from the speakers near you.

Continuing to sway gently in the dim light, you tightened your grasp around Leah’s neck and pulled back ever so slightly, your eyes meeting blue ones.

“Not quite yet. Are you?”

“I don’t think I can ever be tired while being in your arms…”

Smiling shyly, you shook your head. “Half past midnight and your flirting just doesn’t stop huh?”, you questioned.

The cheeky shrug and teasing smile you received in response had you quietly laughing, you tucking yourself back into the crook of the blonde’s neck, letting her guide you as the song changed.

You both had spent the day celebrating love, having been invited to an old teammate’s wedding.

Partying hard through the better part of the evening and night, on the dance floor with friends and teammates, Leah had whisked you away a short while ago, just as the slow songs had once again come on, more than glad to finally get some time alone with you after the hectic day.

The pair of you had ended up tucked near the back, lost in your own world as song after song had played, tons of other couples rotating on and off the dance floor as you two stuck around.

“I can’t believe we managed to make it on time…”

The quiet statement had Leah groaning in playful annoyance, her grip on your waist tightening.

“Not my fault you’re a distraction!”

“Me? I was ready on time…hair and makeup both done long before Uber had arrived. And if I recall correctly, it wasn’t me putting on lipstick and blush in the car, love.”

Your hushed jest had the blonde hanging her head back, your pace slowing as she chuckled quietly at the memory.

“At least the music was decent this time.”

Biting back a smile, you followed Leah’s movement without thinking, mind occupied recalling the morning before the wedding ceremony.

Though the pair of you had woken up on time- a miracle if you were asked, considering it was a Saturday off- you had somehow managed to spend a tad bit (read: over an hour) too long in bed, more content with lazily cuddling as the time ticked by, you both blissfully unaware until your warning alarm had rung.

It had been a scramble to get ready in time for the wedding, the both of you running around the apartment grabbing all that you needed, you claiming the main ensuite and ushering Leah and her suit to the guest one so that you could both be ready to go.

Even with your strategic separation, the blonde had ended up over in your shared bedroom, eventually roped into zipping you up and helping you with your jewelry.

Somehow, helping you out had turned into a small make out session, and well, if Leah had to fight the bumps on the road as she sang along to the radio whilst sorting out the final touches on her make up as the result of the time lost, you definitely weren’t the one complaining, more than content with your finished look and the presence of the blonde beside you.

Snapping out of your thoughts as you heard the familiar strumming of your favourite James Arthur song play, you pulled back to smile at Leah, the blonde returning the sentiment as she tugged you ever so closer, your faces mere inches apart.

Matching grins on your faces, you matched your steps with Leah, softly waltzing under the dimmer lights in the back, satisfied with the knowledge that you would likely not be bothered, more than happy to be consumed in your own world, in your love.

“…I’m so in love with you…and I hope you know…,” Leah sang lowly, just loud enough for you to hear.

Finishing her line, you smile grew as you continued the song. “…darling, your love is more than worth its weight in gold…”

“…we've come so far, my dear…look how we've grown…and I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old…just say you won't let go…”

Voice dropping as you let the midfielder finish the stanza, you shook your head in amazement, blush coating your cheeks as your thought of how lucky you were.

Head tilting as the soft hue reflected perfectly off of Leah’s eyes, you took a second to admire the darker colour that they appeared to be, as well as the rest of your girlfriend.

“You look absolutely incredible in this dim light- the way it’s perfectly highlighting your jawline and cheekbones, you’re gorgeous. And it’s somehow making your eyes nearly look this ethereal navy colour. Never thought they could get prettier but here we are…” You let your voice trail off, the quiet murmur over the music disappearing as you traced over the facial features of the one you loved, noting the rosy hue that covered her cheeks at your compliment.

Rubbing your thumb comfortingly on the nape of Leah’s neck, you watched her wordlessly accept your compliment, her eyes not meeting your gaze telling you that Leah appreciated your comment. Picking up your pace once again and tightening your hold around her shoulders, you brought yourselves closer, picking up the pace to match the new song that played, an Ed Sheeran one this time.

Taking a second to break out of your bubble as the song faded out, you took a look around the hall, realizing you were the only couple left on the dance floor, even the straggling drunk folks having sat down or headed out.

Glancing up at your watch, eyes widening as you saw the time had nearly hit half past one, you slowed down your pace, looking around once more only to notice even the DJ wasn’t at their station, likely a playlist the source of the music playing.

Bringing Leah’s attention to the station as you stopped dancing, you cast the blonde a look of disbelief before bursting out into laughter.

“Leah, I can’t believe we’ve stayed out here that long…everyone else’s nearly gone!”

And as Leah’s head swivelled around in search for your friends, well aware that the newly-wed couple had headed out a little while ago, you held back your laughter, amazed at how the time flew by as you both had spent the nearly two hours dancing together, lost in each other’s embrace, completely blind to everyone else’s presence (or lack thereof) in the room.

Turning back to you with a shocked look on her face, the blonde just barely managed to sputter out her next words. “We surely couldn’t have been dancing for that long, right?”

“Leah, I really think we ‘J-Lo’d’ this and very much have ‘danced the night away’,” you responded, giggling at your horrible joke.

Shaking her head amusedly at the lame line, the blonde grabbed your hand, leading you towards your table.

“I wish we could’ve danced a bit longer…forever even…”

Wrapping your arm around Leah’s waist, you brought your joined hands up to your lips, placing a kiss on the back of her hand before stopping her in her tracks and nudging her to look at you, your voice just loud enough for you two to hear.

“How about this...at our wedding, you and I’ll make sure to dance until both our feet ache, okay?”

Looking up into eyes shining with unspoken love, you let yourself be pulled into Leah’s embrace, sinking happily into the emotion-filled kiss being placed on your lips- the unsaid agreement clear.

Basking in the pure adoration, you held on tightly to Leah, grip only loosening as Leah pulled back, her wiping the slightly smudged lipstick gently off your face. Blonde head nodding vigorously, her response was enthusiastic.

“I think I’d love that.”

Balancing on your tiptoes, you placed a final chaste kiss on the blonde’s lips as if to agree to the final decision before grabbing her hand and continuing your trek to your table.

Looking back as you walked ahead, you shot the blonde a wink and a sly smile, quickly grabbing Leah’s coat before speaking.

“Great! Then all that’s left is for you to propose!”

And as you left a wonderfully perplexed Leah at the table, you slowly began walking backwards to the parked car, a proud smile on your face as you faced the Englishwoman, a lovesick grin of disbelief shining from her.

You absolutely couldn’t wait to marry her.

#honestly think i could've wrote this much better but idk if i have it in me to edit it so here ya go. sorry #not proofread #it's much longer than i intended #too many tags as usual but fuck it #fluff #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso community #my writing #blurb #iye

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ellecdc · 4 months

Note

im sorry for my devastating request of angst 😩 but you did them so beautifully and raw that im tearing up now thinking about vixen’s cereal bowl on the sink of their flat 🥲

🧍‍♀️ and because im nothing but a whore for sirius black … idk if ur up for steamy smutty fics (if ur not comfortable pls feel free to ignore!!!) but what about their first time together after the war and everything 👀 while i imagine it’d be fun and exciting, there’d still be some angst and tender moments after everything they’d been through, esp vix 😭 excited to see your take on this if its something you’re comfortable in writing!!

-🩷

Okay...I was like "I've read enough smut, I should be able to write it, right?" 💀 famous last words - I've never written smut before, so I apologize if it's trash. I'll know it's trash if no one ever requests smut again lmfaoooo

CBBH Sirius Black x Vix!Reader - first time after the war

⚠️CW: explicit sexual material, p in v intercourse, fingering, discussion of past non-con/sexual assault, first time having intercourse following non-con/sexual assault

Recommended 18+ // mdni

Sirius was stood up against your back with his arms around you as the two of you looked out into the Street of Grimmauld Place, swaying side-to-side to non-existent music as you watched traffic go by.

His hands were sat on your hips while his thumbs idly dragged patterns across your skin. His face was positioned in its favourite place – the crook of your neck, as he pressed gentle kisses to the sensitive skin there.

“Sirius?” you asked quietly, interrupting the silence of your little townhouse oasis.

Sirius hummed in response, not lifting his lips from your skin.

“Do you want to have sex?”

Sirius paused all movements, standing stock-still. You turned around in his grasp, so that you were facing him but still in the safety in his arms.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” He said dumbly.

“Do you want to have sex?” you repeated plainly.

Huh, so he had heard you correctly.

“With you?” Oh Godric, someone kill him.

Thankfully, you had the grace to chuckle at his idiocy rather than be offended.

“Well, yes, that’s sort of why I was asking.”

The answer was yes – of course. Always. But it was also far more complicated than that.

Neither you nor Sirius had initiated anything more than sweet kisses and embraces since you returned. Sirius was wary of triggering you or pressuring you into something you were no longer interested in or hurting you unknowingly.

It took you a few months to regain the majority of your memories from the war, and then a few more months working with both magical and muggle mind healers to begin working through your trauma. Lily had even been able to find a squib psychiatrist for you to see, so that you could discuss the full extent of your trauma without the risk of breaking the statute of secrecy.

All this to say – sex was a major milestone you hadn’t yet made in your journey to returning to ‘normal’.

“Well, of course, love. Yes. Why do you ask?” Sirius asked carefully, understanding this conversation was very important.

You sighed and began chewing on your lips as you looked past Sirius, thoughts apparently miles away.

Sirius used his thumb to gently pull your lip from between your teeth as you gathered the words.

“Because I do, I think. Want to. Have sex, that is.”

Sirius cocked his head at you. “You think?” he asked gently.

“No, I-I do. I... it’s hard to explain.”

“That’s alright, baby. Take your time.” He said as he began to resume rocking the two of you back and forth slightly, rubbing soothing circles on your lower back with his thumbs much like he had before you’d asked the question.

“We... we used to have fun. I used to like it, having sex with you. And I want to, again. I’m a little scared but...it feels important.”

Sirius didn’t want to diminish your feelings, but he couldn’t help the quick shake of his head as he said, “It’s not important, love. It doesn’t have to be. Especially if you’re scared.” Quite frankly, Sirius would happily become celibate and live his life as a monk if it meant he got to keep you here with him.

You shook your head right back at him. “It’s important to me...the experience it was- it was stolen from me. I want it back; I want that sense of control over that experience again. I want it to be mine – ours - again.”

“That makes sense.” He offered. You seemed to relax at his acknowledgment, glad to be understood.

“I don’t...I don’t think it’ll be easy.” You admitted shyly.

Sirius raised his hand to brush a lock of your hair behind your ear before placing his hand along your jaw; thumb dragging across your cheek bone whilst his fingers tickled the baby hairs behind your ear.

“That’s okay, beautiful. There’s no rush or penalty, okay? Whatever you want.”

He brought his lips to your forehead and left them there, still rocking you both back and forth like a gentle ship at sea.

“Can we try? Please?” You asked shyly into his chest.

There was no need to beg, really. As ashamed as Sirius would be to admit it, his cock had been stirring beneath his trousers ever since you brought the idea up.

“Whatever you want, my love.” He repeated as he tilted your face up towards him so that your lips could meet.

They were long, slow kisses, that grew in depth with each parting. Soon, Sirius felt the tip of your tongue brush against his bottom lip, and he tried to suppress the grin that begged to overtake his mouth as he allowed you access into his.

It had been so long; so long since Sirius felt anything like this, so long since he’d done anything remotely intimate with another person, so long since he’d experienced the taste of you. What was before simply gentle twitching and half-soft was quickly become a raging boner in his pants as he continued to kiss you while you backed up towards the bed.

But he would not rush this – he would not, could not – get too excited. This was about you, for you.

The back of your thighs hit the bed and you slowly sat down. Your chest was heaving slightly, and your lips look so pretty and kiss bitten. Your eyes were somewhat glassy, and Sirius could see the beginnings of trepidation making itself known in your eyebrows as he lowered himself to his knees in front of you.

“Still okay, my love?”

You seemed to shake yourself from some kind of reverie as you nodded at him.

“Yeah?” He breathed, running his hands along your thighs before they migrated to your face, pulling you down towards him for more kisses.

“Can I take this off, pretty girl?” he whispered against your lips as he tugged on the hem of your shirt. You nodded your head yes.

You lifted your arms to help him ease your top over your head before you voluntarily moved to remove your trousers too.

“My beautiful girl.” He spoke in reverence at your form. You sucked in a deep breath and blew it back out, as if comforting yourself.

“Still okay?” Sirius asked.

“I’m okay.”

“You’ll tell me what’s okay? When to stop?”

“I will. Promise.” You agreed with a firm nod of your head.

“I’ve got you, my love.” He promised right back as he leaned back up to reach your face again, kissing you as you began to lay back onto the bed, Sirius following you as he stood between your knees.

Sirius started by gently rubbing his hands across your entire body, looking for signs of potential ‘no-zones’. Though his hands remained nothing but gentle, he noticed you tense when his grip moved over your neck.

Noted.

He relished in the soft shivers and goosebumps that raised along your skin as his hands roved your body. He’d always found you so beautiful; soft skin with beautiful lightning bolts dotting various points of your body. He took an extra moment to press reverent kisses to the scar on your abdomen that ‘killed you’, the one on your thigh from saving James, and finally, the one on your arm that was used to shame, humiliate, and torture you into give the opposing side information that you refused to give.

Every line, every bruise, every mark; a symbol of your perseverance, your strength, and that you were in fact here – still alive – still his.

Feeling emboldened by a soft moan that graced your lips as his fingers teased the space just below the waist of your panties, he moved his lips back up to yours.

“Can we take these off?” He spoke between kisses.

You lifted your hips in answer, helping him ease them off of you before he discarded them to the side.

He returned his face to yours, dotting kisses to your lips and face before trailing down the column of your throat. He kept his face there - close to yours for easy access as his fingers teased your folds.

Seemingly surprising to you both, your hips jerked forward in anticipation.

“D'you like this?” He asked into the shell of your ear as your legs opened for him and he began collecting your slick with his fingers, rubbing circles around your clit.

“Yeah.” You all but mewled in response.

“Doing so well, love. So good for me.” He praised as he continued kissing your jaw, sliding his middle finger in with little resistance on your end.

He continued his ministrations, feeling beyond proud as your body continued to relax in his embrace – trusting him fully.

He slowly worked another finger in, crooking his fingers to find the spot you both were desperate for – he knew he was successful when your back arched to his touch.

“Sirius, there.”

“I know baby, I know.” He cooed, adding a third finger and zeroed in on your g-spot.

“I’m ready. I’m ready.” You panted after some time. “Please, Sirius, I want it – I want you.”

Sirius thought he’d come in his pants right there.

“You sure baby? I don’t want t-”

“Yes.” You moaned emphatically, and who was Sirius to argue?

“Okay, love. I’m right here, you’ve got me.” He said as he stood up to undress himself whilst you moved your body up towards the head of the bed.

Once he was fully unclothed, he slowly made his way to you, kneeling between your legs and leaning his arms down above your head, shielding you within his embrace.

“Still okay?” He whispered as he nudged your nose with his own.

You nodded. “I’m okay. I’m ready.”

Sirius pressed a searing kiss to your mouth as he brought one hand down to his cock, silently casting a quick lubrication charm – not wanting to chance any friction or pain for your first time (back) with him.

He used the tops of his thighs to push your legs up and open a little wider and pressed his tip to your entrance.

“I’ll go slow, okay baby? We’ll take it slow.” He said as he applied a little bit pressure. He ignored the sensational feeling of your heat encompassing him as he watched your face for any signs of discomfort or discontent.

He got about a quarter of his way in before he paused and brought his arm back up to your head to join the other. He massaged your temples with his thumbs as he pressed kisses into various parts of your face before slowly inching in further.

You were letting out little puffs of air as he continued to coo at you.

“Doin’ so well love, so good for me.”

“m’doing good.” You murmured through a sigh.

Sirius hummed in agreement as he brushed some damp baby hairs away from your forehead, moving into you slowly until he was finally fully sheathed. He paused – as much for your comfort as for his own self-control (he’d probably die of embarrassment if he came right now) – and watched your face.

“I’m okay.” You repeated in a whisper, eyes shut tight as you turned your face away from him. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”

Sirius started to get anxious – not knowing who you were trying to convince; him, or yourself?

“Baby? Baby, love, look at me. Hey,” Sirius whispered gently, rubbing soothingly at your collarbone. “Look at me love, come ‘ere.”

He gently encouraged your face back towards him as you opened up your glassy eyes to meet his gaze.

You both took some steadying breaths as you held each other’s stare.

“It’s me, baby. It’s just me. I’ve got you, okay? You’re safe.” He promised. Your eyes seemed to clear after a few more breaths.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. He kissed each of your eyelids in response.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Are you okay? Do you want to stop?”

“I don’t want to stop.” You said clearly – leaving Sirius no reason to doubt your conviction.

“Okay, I’m gonna move, okay? You tell me what you need, baby, I’ll give it to you.” He promised as he slowly pulled out and pushed back in again.

You both groaned in unison – voices harmonizing in the dark - which made each of you chuckle.

“Oi! Stop wiggling, or this is going to be over before it even started.” He chided which made you laugh even more.

He couldn’t even be mad, seeing you spread out below him, skin glimmering with sweat and a bashful smile on your lips. You were beautiful, ethereal. Sirius was a goner.

He pulled out and moved in again, eliciting another moan from both of you, but you moved on swiftly as he began to pick up a gentle, steady pace.

There was of course an animalistic part of Sirius that was beyond excited at having this back with you; an urge to take you over and over and over again. But somehow, this was perfect, this is exactly what you both needed.

He hated that you felt so broken, he hated that those monsters had hurt you - violated you. But this gentle, sensual reconciliation between your bodies, the open discussion, the gentle kisses that both of you were pressing to the other’s trauma was exactly what you needed.

It felt like more than Sirius entering your body, far deeper than his cock could reach within you. It was slotting puzzle pieces back together that had been ripped away from each other violently.

He’d never let it happen again.

Sirius’ mouth met yours as your tongues danced with each other. He moved his hands to your arms and pulled them over your head, holding them there as he continued to thrust into you.

You let out a few moans before your mouth pulled away from him, “wait, wait.”

Sirius paused all movements and stayed perfectly still. You tugged on your hands, and he released his grip on your wrists before you pulled your hands down to cover your face – breathing becoming erratic – you were crying.

“Hey.” He said gently. “I’m sorry love, talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m sorry.” You said from behind your hands.

“Don’t be sorry love – tell me what’s wrong. What can I do?”

“I just felt trapped, I didn’t like it.” You said, lowering your hands but keeping them away from Sirius’ reach.

“Okay. Okay, I’m sorry – it won’t happen again.” He promised as he slowly brought his thumbs to wipe at your tears as they fell into your hair line.

You blew out a steadying breath as you closed your eyes, relishing in the feeling of Sirius’ gentle hands on your temple as you calmed yourself.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked quietly.

“No.” You assured him with a shake of your head.

“Do you think you’d feel more secure if you were on top?” He asked instead.

You seemed to think about it before making eye contact with him again. “Yeah, maybe. That might help.”

Sirius beamed down at you. “Okay baby, I’ll slide out and we’ll reposition, okay?”

He pulled himself out and you moaned almost pathetically at the loss. He moved to the head of the bed and readjusted the pillows so that he was sat up right before patting his thighs.

“I’m all ready for you, love.” He said as he smiled at you.

You crawled over, looking painfully shy all of a sudden, and Sirius couldn’t help but tease you about it.

“Don’t be going shy on me now, lovely. You were making some of the most beautiful sounds I’d ever heard just moments ago.”

“Sirius!” You whined as you gently swatted his chest.

His smile never faltered as he helped you straddle his lap before easing you back down onto his cock.

“Okay, hang on for a second.” He said as he held your hips in place once you were flush with his, not allowing any movement.

You would have tormented him for this in another life – teasing him for getting too excited, too worked up. But you just smiled down at him lovingly.

Eventually, he looked back up into your eyes and released his hold on your hips, hands supporting you as you began to move up and down on him.

“Atta girl. Fuck, you look so beautiful up there. Gods, how did I ever go without you.” He whispered in awe. His words had your face heating up, and Sirius could see the colour migrate all the way to your chest as you threw your head back.

He looked down to the place where your bodies connected, watching as he would disappear inside of you over and over and over again. He brought his thumb to your clit and began massaging it, worshipping at the sounds emanating from your mouth.

“Yeah baby? Like that?”

You moaned what he understood as a yes as he brought his other hand to your tit, pinching the nipple there and placing your other nipple in his mouth. Then he sucked hard.

“Oh, fuck!” You keened.

He moaned back as he kept sucking, moving his mouth back and forth to give each of your breast’s equal attention.

“I- oh god. I’m – are you close?” You asked him.

Sirius wasn’t sure how to say that he was close all the way back when you asked him if he wanted to have sex, so he settled for “you have no idea, baby. Why?”

“I’m close.” You cried, moving your hands to his shoulders as you brought your face to his, kissing him passionately. He pulled you forward by the hips so that you were leaning most of your weight on him through your arms, and placed his hands on your ass as he began to thrust himself up into you.

“This okay?” He asked breathlessly.

“Yes.” You moaned.

“You gonna come with me baby? Huh? Come with me, come on beautiful, come with me.” He continued to chant between kisses as your gasps and murmuring turned into one, continuous long moan.

He felt the tell-tale signs of you clenching around him as he picked up his pace, returning pressure to your clit with his thumb.

“Fuck me, beautiful. Oh fuck, come on. Come for me. Come for me.” He begged, working overtime to ward off his own orgasm until you had yours.

He needn’t wait long, however, as his words pushed you over the edge and your careened forward, pushing your face into the crook of his neck as you cried out through your orgasm.

Your walls clenching sealed the deal and had his cock throbbing; coating your cervix with come.

You both sat gasping, both his cock and your walls twitching with aftershocks every so often as you both came down from your highs. He kissed your shoulders and rubbed your back waiting for you to return to him when he felt a wet spot grow on his shoulder.

“Baby?” He whispered. You sobbed in response.

Fear grappled at him as he felt his heart fall out of his ass. He reared his head back and moved you from his shoulder to find tears staining your face.

“Love! Love, what’s wrong?” He whispered, completely horrified at your distress.

You smiled sadly and let out some laughs. “I’m sorry, I’m not sad.”

Sirius felt his stomach unclench and felt like he could throw up in relief.

“I did it.” You whispered mostly to yourself.

Suddenly, he understood.

This was a milestone. This was not just a small step towards normality – this was a huge accomplishment. This was bigger than accepting help, this was bigger than talking to a therapist, this was bigger than all of it.

This was you taking back control. This was you taking something that terrified you, but persevering because it was important to you that you have it. This was you being nervous but advocating for yourself the entire way through.

Sirius felt like his soul would combust from the amount of pride he felt for you. Every time he was certain he loved you as much as any person could possibly love someone, you go and do something fucking phenomenal, and he’s left to rearrange his entire being to accommodate the amount of love coursing through his veins.

He'd happily do that for the rest of his life.

“You did.” He agreed, pushing back pieces of your hair from your face.

“I didn’t...I didn’t think I could.” You admitted.

Sirius shook his head. “I did.”

“You did?”

“Mhm.”

“How?”

Sirius scoffed as if you said something completely ridiculous. “Because, for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve never not been able to do something you set your mind to.”

You beamed at him. “Stubborn.”

“Tenacious.” He said as he pinched your side.

“Obstinate.”

“Mine.”

Your teasing smile turned soft. “Yours.” You agreed which was quickly followed by a yawn.

Sirius gently massaged your sides as he slowly lifted your weight up and his softening cock slipped out of you.

“Let’s go clean up so we can go to bed.” He said as he stamped a kiss to your temple.

You took turns lathering soap on the other’s body and enjoyed the spray of the warm water as you swayed to more nonexistent music and shared tender kisses. He was being unbelievably soft with you, but he knew if he allowed his joy, excitement, and pride to overcome him; he’d have you bent in half against the shower wall.

You’d come a long way, but he was quite sure you weren’t there yet.

That was fine by him though; you had the rest of your lives to work your way there.

...

James made his way down the hall as he carried a muggle frozen dinner in his hands, re-reading the instructions on the back.

He knocked on your and Sirius’ bedroom door but didn’t wait for a response before he opened it up.

“Hey, do you think we can cook this magically since we don’t have a mic-or-oh-wave? Lily said no, but I thought-” He paused as he saw you and Sirius, both with damp hair under the covers intertwined in each other’s embrace.

He realized then that the room smelt warm and... heady...

“Oh my gods. Did you guys have sex!?” He squealed loud enough to wake the entire house.

“PRONGS!”

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #ask elle #marauders come back be here #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #the marauders #the marauders era #smut #sirius black smut #marauders smut #mdni #18+ content

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katelynnwrites · 4 months

Text

Sydney's Little Liebe | Sydney Lohmann x Child!Reader

warnings: not proof read but i promise you it's fluffy

word count: 900

summary: the very first time your favourite tante meets you, part of Sydney's Little Liebe

a/n: look at that! i've upgraded my game to making my own gifs 😂

You’re only a couple hours old when you meet your Tante Syd.

Of all your Tantes, she is the first to meet you.

In fact, other than Momma and all the medical staff, she is the very first person you meet.

Your Momma is absolutely exhausted after having you but she texts Sydney a photo of you nonetheless.

The midfielder has just finished a gym session when she sees the photo, as well as the caption, ‘Look who’s here….Do you want to meet her?’

You’re all red in the photo but you look to be sleeping peacefully. There’s a pink blanket swaddling you and your face is kinda squashed but Sydney is positively sure she’s never seen anything cuter.

She had known you were due to be born any moment but she didn't think that today would be the day.

With one hand already throwing her belongings back into her bag, she uses her other hand to reply to your Momma, telling her that she’s already on her way.

It’s not even twenty minutes later that your Tante's knocking on the door of Momma’s hospital room.

She had only stopped to pick up a bouquet of flowers and to rub her hands with a liberal amount of hand sanitizer, the bottle being conveniently located at the hospital elevator lobby.

Your Momma says to come in and Sydney pushes open the door.

‘Oh.’ She breathes as she sees you in your bassinet.

The blonde is not even aware that she’s crossing the room until she is right by your side.

You’re awake and less red now, more of a pink really and Sydney gently touches your hand.

She jumps when you close your hand around her finger, her heart beating fast.

‘Hi…’ She murmurs, completely and utterly taken by you.

Your Momma laughs, knowing that you have worked your charm on the midfielder and that she’s definitely going to spoil you silly.

Sydney takes you in for another long moment, looking at how tiny you are and how you already have the beginnings of fine hair growing on your head.

You look so serious, with your wide eyes and she can’t help but cry a little.

‘She’s entirely perfect. You’ve made the most perfect baby on Earth.’ She chokes out, to your Momma.

Walking over, she places a delicate kiss onto her fellow Bayern Munich player’s forehead and passes her the flowers.

‘She’ll have a lot of people looking out for her. Honestly, there is no way you’ll be able to keep our team away from her once they find out she's been born, especially Glo but I am here for you okay? I’m looking out for you. Anything you need, anytime you need it, just let me know. I will be there.’ Sydney promises.

‘Thank you Syd. That means more to me than you will ever know.’

Your Momma’s voice is soft and slightly tearful. She reaches for the midfielder’s hand and squeezes it before smiling, ‘Do you want to hold her?’

Sydney’s bottom lip trembles, ‘Really?’

‘Of course really.’ Your Momma tells her, slowly getting out of the hospital bed and picking you up.

The blonde remains motionless, staring at you with nothing short of awe.

Momma chuckles and quietly asks her to sit down.

So Sydney mechanically does but her hazel eyes never leave you.

‘I-I don’t know how to carry a baby. I’ve never held one before.’ The midfielder nervously stammers.

’You’ll do alright Syd, just make sure to support her head.’ Your Momma reassures her.

Then she transfers you into your Tante’s waiting arms.

Sydney releases a shaky breath. You are far lighter than she expects and she keeps her arms steady so as to not jostle you.

By cradling you to her chest, she gets an up close look of your little features.

‘She’s beautiful.’ The blonde murmurs.

‘You’re so precious.’ She whispers to you, brushing her finger across your cheek.

She makes sure to do as your Momma asked, supporting your head in the crook of her elbow.

You wiggle in her hold and scrunch your nose up, making her laugh.

‘I’m your Tante Syd and when you’re a bit bigger, I promise you that we’re going to have so much fun. I promise, Little Liebe.’

Your Momma giggles, ‘Little Liebe is cute and I know I’ve been referring to her as it for a while but don’t you want to know what her name really is?’

‘Oh so you finally decided on one?’ She teases.

Momma rolls her eyes, ‘Yes, yes I did and while I didn’t use any of your suggestions….’

Your Tante pouts, ‘Not even Sydney? What’s wrong with my name?’

‘No and that’s just it, it’s your name but…I did the next best thing. Her middle name is Tilly. Short for your middle name, Matilda.’

Sydney inhales sharply.

She’d tried so hard to keep her tears at bay earlier but now she’s completely unable to.

Your Momma takes a photo as the blonde emotionally presses a kiss onto your forehead.

‘I’m going to be the very best Tante in the world for you. I’m gonna buy you so many presents, I'm going to teach you how to play football with your Momma and get you all the ice creams you want when you're older. Just you wait Little Liebe because you and I? We're going to be best friends.’

German Translations:

tante - aunty

Little Liebe - Little Love

#sydney lohmann #sydney lohmann x reader #sydney lohmann imagine #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #dfb frauen #gerwnt #fcb frauen #woso fanfics #katelynnwrites

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fairylights-mist · 4 months

Text

good girl faith and a tight little skirt!!

Pairings: Billy Russo x Fem!Reader

Summary: Billy gets mad when you go out in certain outfits without his permission.

Warnings: NFSW(?), a bit steamy, thigh riding (implied)

A/n: i can't write smut to save life, this is as far as i can get. Also sorry for the grammar errors, english isn't my first language. Buy me a Coffee!!

You finally got home after babysitting your niece. Right after you open the apartment door, you catch the smell of garlic and soy sauce. Fried rice? "Billy?" you called, Billy doesn't usually cook. It was really rare.

You dropped yourself on the couch to rest for a bit then head off to shower, "Since when did you cook?" you chuckled.

"Since—" Billy went out of the kitchen with two plates of fried rice but immediately stopped his word, then eyed you up and down. Checking your outfit, it was just a tank top with cardigan and a short tennis skirt that barely covers your ass.

"Where have you been?" he asked,

"I told you, I was babysitting Lea. Now give me that! I'm starving." you went to pick it up from his hand but he backed off then set it on the coffee table.

"With that outfit?"

"Yeah." you said, but Billy gave you a sharp glare. "Ugh, what's the matter? You don't think I look pretty like this?" you teased him, twirling and giving him a whole look of the outfit before taking a seat on the couch.

Billy heaved a sigh of irritation and took a seat beside you.

"What am I supposed to wear?" you exclaimed, and sat on his lap, straddling him. "I know you like me in this little skirt.”

You can feel the hardness growing down your inner thighs, you rolled your hips gently. Billy groaned your name as a warning.

"What?" you bit your lip trying to hold the giggle in your mouth.

"Don't start something you can't finish."

"Oh?" then you kissed him, trailing to his beard, to his earlobes, and to his neck. Fuck, his cologne. Then you bit his neck. The heat between your thighs is growing

Billy let out a quiet moan, and then you got up from his lap, leaving him wanting. But Billy grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to the couch, "We're not done, baby."

You let out a small whine and then Billy went down to your thigh, trailing his fingers up and down. "I'm gonna fuck you in this skirt until you can't walk. Do you understand that?" he locked his gaze at you.

You nodded.

He started to kiss your marks on your inner thighs, making you throw back your head. His hand reached up to your boxer, his head snapped up to you. "Mm, is this my boxer?" he cooed.

You shook your head, it's not. Your boxer fabric is way thinner than a men's boxer. You usually wear your boxer inside, mainly because you want to ride Billy's thigh. Though, he's always busy so you didn't have your chance to come.

"Didn't know your thighs would look so good in this." he drew his fingers to the spot you needed him the most, and he chuckled at the sight of you, squirming under his touch. "My baby knows what she's doing." he hummed, noticing the thinness of your boxer.

"Please, Billy." you breathed out.

“Use your words, baby. Be specific." He said before kissing your thigh.

"I wanna ride your thigh." you whined.

"Ask nicely." he said firmly, staring straight into your eyes. You parted your mouth, the words wouldn't come out. Though, you needed this. "What did I say, huh?" his grip tightened on your thigh. You whined at the pressure he gave you.

"Please, Billy. Let me ride your thigh. I'll be good." you begged and he went down to leave his mark on your thigh. Billy went up and gave you a rough kiss as he took off your cardigan and threw it on the floor impatiently.

You pulled out of the kiss, giving a little push on Billy's chest. "That's my favourite cardigan!” you pouted at him.

Instead of a reply, Billy went to the crook of your neck and sucked and bit it til he left a purple bruise. You closed your eyes at the hot sensation of his breath meeting with your skin.

You felt his beard tickle your ear as his mouth drew up to your ear, "I'll buy you a new one—I'd buy you the world.” Billy continues to undress you until you're left with nothing but your little tennis skirt around your waist. He sat up on the couch, spread his leg a bit and patted one of his thighs as a gesture for you to straddle it. “C'me here.”

#billy russo smut #billy russo x reader #billy russo drabble #billy russo #william russo #the punisher #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes #marvel

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hgfictionwriter · 5 months

Text

Reunited

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie moves away when she transfers to a new team. You’ve been apart for far too long.

Warning: The usual smut. And language.

When Jessie received an offer from Bayern, she couldn’t turn it down. She’d finally be able to play more minutes and she’d have the comfort of being reunited with old friends and mentors.

The crowd cheered as the final whistle blew. You stood up in your seat and cheered, clapping your hands enthusiastically.

Jessie played nearly the full 90 minutes and she’d gotten one assist - and it was only her first game with the new team.

You were able to secure a transfer out there, but it was going to take a bit for time for it to take effect. Until then, you and Jessie were going to have to be long distance and travel to see each other whenever possible.

The flight was short enough, the trouble was your schedules. Between Jessie’s back to back international duty, pre-season camp, and your work, it’d been over a month since you’d seen her.

You watched as Jessie and the team walked the field, thanking fans and signing autographs. She clapped and chitchatted with teammates, but her eyes were searching the stands. You purposely stood back until she was starting to pass your section and you headed down to stand alongside the other fans.

“Jessie!”

She stopped dead in her tracks, now standing erect as her head scanned back and forth across the crowd until her gaze landed on yours. You grinned at her and gave a wave. A look of shock was quickly replaced by elation and excitement.

“Y/n!” She yelled as she sprinted over.

She nearly skidded to a stop right before the barrier, giving you a watery smile before rushing forward again and pulling you into a tight hug. She pulled back a few moments later to grab you by your jacket and into a kiss. You felt her both grin and sink into you as her teammates erupted in catcalls and teasing. When she broke off your kiss her cheeks were bright red, but her smile said that she wasn’t giving the teasing much mind.

“I didn’t think you could make it.” She said in wonder. Her eyes glistened and she quickly swiped at them, trying to hide the emotion. “I’ve missed you so much. You have no idea.”

“I missed you too, baby,” you echoed with a kiss. “I couldn’t miss my girl’s first game with her new team.”

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" Jessie asked, disbelief still in her voice. You gave a small shrug with a crooked smile.

"What would be the fun in that?"

She was about to offer you a quip when she saw your gaze flick over her shoulder to the rest of her team who was now walking away. You gestured with a nod their direction.

“You better catch up and go greet the rest of your fans,” you said with a wink.

“I’ll meet you after?” She asked, eyes big and hopeful, as if there was any doubt. You had to laugh.

“No. I’m going to go visit my other girlfriend.” You ribbed and quickly kissed her as soon as you saw a pout begin to form. “Of course, love.”

Afterwards, you were with Jessie and the squad at one the team's favourite hangouts as they celebrated their first win of the season. You'd finally gotten the chance to meet the famous Magda and Pernille that Jessie had praised endlessly. And, surprising to you, they were thrilled to finally meet you.

"Jessie is just over the moon," Magda had said as Jessie got up from your table to get you another drink, eager to wait on you. Pernille laughed as they both watched Jessie walk away, but still glance over her shoulder back at you with a bright and endearing smile.

"Truly. She's been talking non-stop about you since she got to Munich, Y/n. And I didn't think she could be more smitten, but here we are," Pernille had joked.

"Our baby's all grown up," Magda said with a wink.

They'd teasingly warned you that if you ever hurt Jessie, you'd have to answer to them. You took it in stride and told them between them and the entirety of Chelsea, you'd be a goner if anything went south. Despite the joking though, you earnestly told them that you'd never intentionally hurt Jessie. You felt so grateful to have her in your life, and honestly, you couldn't picture anyone more perfect for you. You'd never do anything to jeopardize your relationship with Jessie or hurt her.

After drinks with the team wrapped, you went back to Jessie's new flat. It was crazy to think that you'd only seen it via Facetime. You chuckled to yourself as she excitedly pulled you down the hallway to her door, your bag and hers slung over her shoulders - she insisted on carrying yours too - and let you inside.

She eagerly gave you the tour and your heart fluttered at the touches she'd arranged for you not even knowing you were coming. Drawers left empty for your stuff, a space for you to work, and she beamed as she handed you the extra key already on a keychain designed after your favourite show.

"You are so good to me," you said with a tender smile as you took the keychain and cupped her face gently to kiss her. "How did I get so lucky?"

She smirked at you, though very satisfied with herself that you were happy with the place. "Well, you work with Julia, who's friends with Niamh, and Niamh introduced us, and we hit it off, so..."

"Yeah, alright," you laughed and kissed her again. "I love you." You stayed close, your forehead resting against hers as you looked into her eyes. "And I've really, really missed you." She tilted her head to kiss you, the kiss a bit rushed and hard, her hands coming up around your waist and pulling you tight before she pulled back a bit.

"I've missed you, too." Her gaze was both sad and determined. She took the the keys from you and tossed them onto the table a few feet away before pulling you tight to her once more. "I don't ever want to go this long without each other again." You nodded wordlessly, feeling she had more to say. She inhaled deeply, her sculpted shoulders rising as the breath filled her lungs. "I've never missed anyone like this," she expressed. "I don't want to be without you."

"I don't want to be apart either," you reciprocated, your hands now caressing the back of her neck. Your hips subconsciously rocked against her as you took a deep breath of your own in an attempt to ease the feeling that was starting to build inside of you.

"It feels so good to have you in my arms again," she said, her voice holding a slight rasp in it as her gaze wandered down your neck and back up as she kissed you. You hardened the kiss and you felt her stiffen in your embrace before exhaling into your touch. "Did you miss me, too, baby?" She asked.

"So much." Your voice was breathy and you couldn't help a small whimper from escaping your throat. Your hands began to roam into her hair and soon her hands pressed into the small of your back.

"How much did you miss me?" She asked, now dipping her head to trail kisses down the side of your neck. You chewed your lip as you let your head fall back.

"Why don't you find out?" You challenged and suppressed a shiver when she exhaled against your neck, tucking her head against you further.

"Tell me," she whispered as her fingers dug slightly into your back.

"Mm. This much," you said as you grasped one of her hands and guided it between your bodies. With your other hand you coaxed her head back up so you could kiss her while you pushed her hand inside your underwear and straight to your heat.

"Fuck, baby," she shuddered, her knees giving out oh so slightly for a second as her fingers were immersed in your wetness. "Oh God, I missed you," she said as she began gliding her fingers through your folds.

You gasped at the contact you'd been craving for weeks upon weeks now and you ground yourself down against her fingers.

"Oh God, I love you so fucking much," Jessie's voice now strong as she removed her hand and collided into you with a kiss as she ushered you to the couch, you both falling into the cushions as you continued to kiss.

She guided you so you were fully laying down. Her hands roamed under your shirt, massaging your breasts before she pulled your shirt off along with your bra. She leaned down to take one of your breasts into her mouth, her teeth grazing your nipple before circling it with her tongue. You were engrossed in the feeling, your back lifting off the couch to meet her mouth.

She sat up, causing you to open your eyes at the sudden lack of contact. You looked down your body to see her sitting up and giving you a hungry look. She placed her hands at the waist of your pants and removed them swiftly. She reached down and ran a couple of fingers along your lips through your underwear.

"This brand new couch has just been begging for me to fuck you on it." She leaned in and kissed you slowly, her fingers pushing your panties aside as she caressed you further. A moan rumbled in your throat. "I picture it every day."

"Jess, please. I need you inside me. It’s been so long," you pleaded. Your hips were rocking up against her fingers shamelessly.

She ran her free hand up your neck to the back of your head, her fingers splayed through hair. Your eyes were closed, but you could feel her breath shudder as she watched you. Her gaze didn’t waver as she pulled your underwear down your legs and dropped them to the ground. She ran her hand back up the inside of your leg.

“Jessie!” Her name filled the room as she entered you, her fingers easily sinking to her knuckles with how wet you were. You winced in pleasure as the nails of her other hand dug into your scalp. You didn't have to see her to know how much slipping inside of you did for her.

"Y/n," she rasped. She curled against your body, using her strong legs to press higher up into you as she began kissing down your chest and taking one of your breasts in her mouth once more.

"Oh God," you whimpered as you dragged your nails along her back, her shirt bunching beneath your fingers. You tugged sharply on the fabric and she huffed before giving you a kiss and quickly discarding the shirt. You sat up, hooking a hand behind her neck and pulling her down with you into another kiss as she sunk back inside of you.

"Fuck, Y/n," she breathed as she expertly curled her fingers inside of you. "You feel even more amazing than before." She gave a pleased moan. "Right between your legs is where I belong."

"Oh, Jess, I missed you so much. You make me feel so fucking good," you moaned as you wrapped your legs around her waist and pulled her further into you. She kissed you hard in response.

"You're so gorgeous. I feel like I can't get close enough to you."

That was the thing with Jess. The sex could be primal, physical in its rawest form, but it was always emotional. It truly felt like you couldn't get close enough to each other. There was so much emotion, so much magnetic force between you, that fucking the life out of each other was the closest you could come to expressing how much you loved and wanted one another.

"Oh God, Jess," you clutched at her, pulling her impossibly tighter to you. "I'm gonna cum already."

"Yeah," she said, a smile crossing her lips at how quickly you were coming undone for her. "Let go, baby. Cum for me."

"Oh fuck, yeah," she nearly hissed as you tightened like a vice around her fingers and she felt a rush of your arousal pool in her palm. She subconsciously ground her hips into the back of her hand and your thighs, her own arousal becoming nearly unbearable. "I've been dreaming of this. I missed you so much."

You had barely come down from your high when Jessie pulled her fingers from your sopping pussy and hoisted you into her arms. A small squeal escaped you as she chuckled and carried you to the bedroom, laying you down on the bed.

"I'm not done with you yet," she told you, her eyes shining as she looked down at you before reaching into her side table and retrieving her strap.

The sight of Jessie putting on her strap and crawling up your body had you pulsing in need all over again.

"Is this okay?" She asked as she settled over you, but sure not to go too far.

"Jessie, you better fuck me and keep showing you how much you've missed me," you whispered as you pulled her to you.

A grin crossed Jessie’s face as she grabbed the strap and rubbed it up and down your folds, getting it slick.

She placed the tip at your entrance and gradually pressed her hips forward, wanting to give you time to adjust.

The fulsome moan you released as she bottomed out in you nearly caused her to start bucking her hips into you, but she steeled herself and slowly drew back before smoothly sinking back in again. This time she moaned with you as the friction heightened her arousal.

She slowly began picking up her speed and steadily the sounds of her fucking you filled the room. Between the wet sounds of her pumping in and out of you, your panting mixed with needy groans, and her name falling off your tongue, Jessie’s eyes grew nearly black with lust.

“Nothing could be better than this,” she declared. Her eyes were trained on you as she adjusted her position, moving one hand up to the headboard to brace herself as she began sinking herself even deeper into you. You let out a particularly wanton moan as you dragged your nails down her sides and drew a hiss from her. She still didn’t skip a beat.

You noticed as she glanced down to where your fingers now anchored themselves by her hips. Immediately, you saw the red marks they’d left in their wake. Before you could even contemplate feeling bad, she spoke.

“Wish I could get your marks tattooed on me. Have you with me all the time.”

“Jessie,” you panted. You reached down and grabbed her ass with both hands and started pulling her into you in time with her thrusts. She growled in approval before picking up her pace and rolling her hips with each thrust to really hit your sweet spot.

It wouldn’t have been uncommon for her to flip you onto your hands and knees and fuck you with such need and intensity, that you’d need to bury your face in the sheets and scream her name. It’s not like she wasn’t fucking you with overwhelming passion and ferocity right now - the shockwaves of pleasure shooting through every time her hips slammed home into you, and certainly the way you knew you’d barely be able to walk after were proof enough. However, it seemed today you both needed something more intimate. When she wasn’t kissing you, her eyes were locked on you, her gaze so intense and as if she were memorizing every angle of you. You relished in the feeling of her body on top of you, her trained muscles flexing and moving so exquisitely as your hands rediscovered her.

She placed both hands on the bed, threading under your arms and she moved her powerful legs up, pushing your own up and back so you were in a full press. She kissed you deeply as she began rocking deeply and furiously into you. Soon the sounds of the bed knocking against the wall echoed through the room, only partially drowned out by your growing cries of pleasure. From Jessie’s hitched breathing and her whimpers in your ear, you could tell she was just as close as you were to her high.

“I want to make sure every time you're wanting, anytime you're wet - you think of me. And nobody else can satisfy you. The only things that can truly give you what you need are my fingers, my cock, my tongue. Me,” she panted in your ear. “Cum with me, baby. I need you.”

“Jess!”

Your legs tightened around her and your nails dug deeper into her back as you screamed her name. You convulsed as she slammed into you with a cry of her own, her body tensing in your embrace. Her breath came out in ragged, shuddering gasps as her own orgasm ripped through her.

You were still in a haze when you felt her grow limp in your arms, collapsing on top of you as her back rose and fell as she worked to catch her breath, you only just now really noticing the sweat that was dripping down her. You kissed her tenderly.

“Jessie,” you smiled, running your fingers into her hair and caressing her. “That was beyond incredible. You are way too good at fucking me.”

Jessie let out a tired chuckle, but lifted her head to give you a slow smirk.

"I have to make sure you don't forget me when you go back to London." Her tone was only half joking and you shot her a frown.

“I could never. In any sense.” You leaned forward to kiss her. "And for the record, I love you for far more than your fingers, your cock and your tongue."

She buried her head in your neck, you still spying the beginnings of a blush on her cheeks.

“You better,” she said, her voice muffled against your skin. You kissed the side of her head and laced your fingers together with hers.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

#canwnt #chelsea wfc #jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #woso #woso community #woso x reader

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satorubrain · 1 year

Note

Heyy <3

Can i have *another* request for the child eater Gojo~ how he would wake us up:

Normally (everyday)

To be sweet~

In an emergency~

and To be a pain!

Thank you!! i'm looking so forward to this!!!

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader.

Tags: Fluff, slight angst.

Synopsis: How Satoru wakes you up.

A/N: WELL THEN I HOPE U ENJOY THIS BBY <3

Normally.

Lets consider this is the normal one but the real normal is "to be a pain"

He wouldn't. He doesn't even want to get up. But your phone is too far from his reach and it's too comfortable to leave. He nuzzles in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent mixed with your lotion.

"Babeeee" he whines. "Your alarm has been going off for the last 15 minutes? Think you can do something about it please?"

"Mn. 5 more minutes pleasee" You mumble in your sleep, head buried in the pillow, eliciting a giggle from him.

It's a daily thing and both of you knew that. The 5 minutes might turn into 5 hours and you'll still somehow manage to doze off without a worry in your sleepyhead.

He hugs you a little tighter before dragging you up along with him, rocking back and forth with you, saying sweet nothings in your ear waking you up (mostly because if he annoys you in the morning, he'd be found dead in the next two seconds).

To be sweet.

This usually happens when you return late at night from a week long mission or when he fully knows you've been having a hard time recently, he tries his best to be extra sweet.

He wakes up a little early, drawing you a bath so you can relax. While the water is filling up he gets you breakfast, since he's prohibited from cooking but at least he knows how to make your favourite kind of tea.

Giving you a gentle kiss on your cheek as he slides an arm under your back, helping you get up.

"Good morning, sweet. I've got you breakfast and drawn a bath for you. What do you want first..... Or perhaps you want me?" He mischievously jokes earning a smack on the shoulder from you.

In an emergency.

I dont really imagine what kind of emergencies he might have. But I can think of three to be specific.

Case 1:

If anything that wakes him is your phone ringing because someone called you at an ungodly time.

Thankfully before it could even bother you, he picks it up just to find out about an emergency exorcism of a special grade curse that appeared out of nowhere. All it did was annoy him, he was irritated by the higherups who decided to summon you at 4 in the morning.

No he still doesn't wake you up. Instead he decides to solve your problem and not bother your peace.

Giving you a quick peck on your forehead, whispering "sleep tight, sweets. I will be right back" to which you mumble random incomprehensible words, which was enough encouragement for him. It doesn't even take him an hour to finish up your work and return to your warm embrace, giving in to his sleep.

"Uhh what did I get paid for?" You question, mostly yourself while checking the text message as you got ready for the day.

"Well i wonder" he stands proudly in front of you grinning widely giving you an answer.

Case 2:

He's crying.

It's one of the days when his thoughts get the better of him, his past comes tumbling down, numbing his senses and leaving him so vulnerable.

He's holding you close, afraid that he'll have to lose you too- maybe that you'll leave him or something else. His past has left a deep wound in his heart that is far from being healed, which reopens from time to time leaving him whimpering and afraid.

You soon wake up to his silent sobs, his chest heaving, and his soft sniffs. It doesn't take you long to come to your senses and realize he's probably having an anxiety attack. You know what's aching him, he doesn't need to tell you nor do you need to ask.

You hug him tightly as you gently pat his head. "My love, my Satoru. I'm here alright? You'll be fine. We will be fine okay, love?" you try your best to comfort him, reminding him to regulate his breathing as you wipe his tears, and thankfully it seems to be working.

"P-please... Don't leave me" Satoru pleads, sounding so pained and broken. You feel your heart shatter at his words.

"Always my love, I'll always be with you" You assure him, cupping his cheeks as he rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes while holding you tightly as he falls asleep.

To be a pain.

Exhibit A.

Another emergency being, him having a stupid question at 3 fucking 48 in the morning.

"babe babe as curses are developing they will start crushing too?" "Do you think Sukuna ever gets lonely? Nah maybe not hes a loser" "Babe will you love me if i was a worm?" "I had a dream of you!!! Did you dream about me too?" He shakes you awake, looking at you with his bright cerulean curious eyes.

"Gojo Satoru are you serious?!"

"My name is not Gojo Satoru, my name is, my love or something like that but not gojo. But what do you think about the question!!!!!!"

Exhibit B.

He has returned from a week-long mission at 4am and of course he wakes you up with a loud announcement of his arrival before he rushes into your shared bedroom, discarding his blindfolds somewhere. The door hits the wall with a loud bang while his throws himself on top of you crushing you with his weight.

"I'm love-starved" He explains cupping your cheeks, frowning and pouting slightly, his eyes a little watery. Enjoying your every movement and grunt that spill past your lips as you try to make space for yourself. Witnessing your beauty makes him realize how much he missed you as he cages with a tight hug.

Exhibit C:

"Rise and shineeeeeee" He declares as he slides the curtains aside causing you to wake up whining.

"Glad you woke up! I need my morning kiss now" He returns to you demanding a morning kiss just to be thrown off the bed when he comes close to you before you rush to the bathroom to get ready.

Oh, how he loves teasing you and annoying you. Knowing you won't even say a word before brushing and getting rid of that morning breath he could care less about.

[REQUESTS ARE OPEN]

#gojo imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo fanfic #gojo headcanons #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk headcanons #jjk angst #gojo x reader angst

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fernandopiastri28 · 23 days

Text

first serve 🎾 (pt2) ~ oscar piastri x logan sargeant

-> part 1 <-

“Yeah,” Logan smiles, tackling Oscar fully back down as he’d partially sat up. “You’re so warm,” His hands slides up under the Aussie's shirt almost mindlessly. He doesn’t go further up then his abdomen though, his hand snaking around the back of his waist to hug him close. Oscar buries his nose into the crook of Logan’s neck, his senses flooded with the sharp taste of a cologne that costs more than he earns in a year. Well. Almost. It’s his favourite scent in the whole world, sharp tones of amber and wood. If he ever has enough money at one time, he’ll buy the scent, wear it each day just to think of the blond.

warnings: slight internalised homophobia

Oscar pushes his sunglasses back up his nose, wiping the sweat that had formed from the overbearing sun. Lando fans himself with a laminated menu, dabbing at his face with the bottom of his shirt. “Can you ask your boyfriend to get us into the vip area so we don’t have to sweat our balls off every lunch break?”

Oscar laughs at that, tugging his shirt out to allow more airflow to his stomach. “He’s not my boyfriend,” He hums, squinting down to the courts below where Logan’s in the middle of a practice session, his arm whipping back and forth with each serve.

“Not yet,” Lando teases.

“Not yet,” He nods in agreement, tossing his head back to shake his hair out of his face. It is hot, Lando’s got that much right. Sweat is pooling in his armpits and likely causing a relatively embarrassing spot on his shirt. It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t really care anyways. Logan certainly won't. He doesn’t care about Oscar’s exterior, just him.

Thinking about Logan gets an unintentional smile to appear on his face.

It’s not unnoticed by Lando though who’s usually pretty unobservant. “Aww, you’re blushing,” Lando strings his words out, nudging his index finger into the soft chub of Oscar’s cheek. “You like him so bad,” Oscar swats him away, hunching over to rest his elbows on the table and hopefully cover the red flush decorating his face.

His eyebrows flick upwards, his expressions mute in response to all the taunts Lando is clearly planning on throwing at him. “Obviously,” His eyebrows twist together and lips purse. “I sneak off with him during shifts to make out with him in the supply closet when his bedroom is rented out. Of fucking course I like the guy,” Lando’s face drops in pure shock.

“You what?” He shrieks, whacking Oscar’s arm about as hard as he possibly can. To Lando, Oscar is about the biggest virgin possibly. He even struggles to comprehend the fact that he and Logan have even kissed yet. Much less hookup on the daily. “That’s where you fucking disappear off to when you tell me you’re cleaning?”

His eyebrows raise up higher, a satisfied grin playing on his lips. “Yes,” His laugh is all breathy. “Not all the time, sometimes I actually am cleaning.” He insists, trying to calm Lando down slightly so his freak out doesn’t attract any unwanted attention.

“Oscar, you are such a slut,” He tuts, wrapping his mouth around the straw of his orange juice. “Not only are you dating the boss’ son, you sneak off to suck face with him.” Oscar rolls his eyes at the lewd comment.

“Not my boyfriend,” He corrects again, not bothering to say he’s wrong about ‘sucking face.’

“Didn’t deny being a slut,” The Brit stares him down out of the corner of his eye, his jaw tensed.

With a slight shrug of his shoulders, he gazes off blankly to where Logan is doing cool down stretches. “Yeah, didn’t deny it,” He muses. That gets him another swift whack on his arm from Lando whose mouth is gaping open.

His voice is hushed the next time he speaks, “How far have you two gone?” He sounds genuinely curious and not as if he’s trying to taunt him. Over the past few weeks since the day he and Logan met, Oscar and Lando’s relationship had strengthened to the point that they’d consider themselves good friends and would often text and hangout outside of work.

Puffing a tight stream of cool air up onto his top lip, Oscar decides how much he wants Lando to know. “Just makeouts so far,” His head tipped slightly, barely looking at Lando. It’s true, they haven’t gone any further than shoving their tongues down each other's faces, but it wasn’t just ‘innocent’, handless makeouts or anything.

Only a few days prior, Logan had sat in the Aussie’s lap as they both only had boxers on to conceal themselves. It had been everything Oscar needed, but he worried that the American wanted, or needed, more. He’d been louder, moaning and groaning as his mouth had explored each sliver of Oscar’s exposed neck, shoulders, and chest.

He worried that Logan would ask if he could take Oscar’s underwear off, and he worried more that he wouldn’t know how to say no.

“Not even a quick handie yet?” Lando jeers. It’s clearly meant to come off as lighthearted and teasing, but it just leaves a bitter taste on Oscar’s tongue. He really likes Logan, like more than he’s ever liked anyone else before, yet at the end of the day, there’s one really big problem about Logan,

He’s a boy.

It wasn’t something Oscar initially considered a problem in actuality. After their first kiss, Oscar’s head had been spinning too hard to even think about the logistics of them together. His whole life, the thought of being gay hadn’t ever been weirded out. He’d even liked a boy before, one of his friends back in Australia, Christian. But he’d never been with Christian, and Christian certainly didn’t like boys in the way Oscar did.

Logan was the first boy Oscar had ever kissed, the first one he’d liked who liked him back. Now he felt dirty, wrong. It felt like he was doing something wrong, immoral even. Maybe that’s part of the reason he hadn’t asked Logan to be his boyfriend yet, and he was grateful he hadn’t been asked in return.

“Shut up Lando,” The corners of his smile slump, his brown eyes creasing around the corners- usually formed from a too big smile. This time, it was the face of holding back tears. He wanted to cry because he wanted to make Logan feel good in the ways Lando teased him about. He wanted to be so insanely in love with the American and not feel disgusting for loving a boy.

Lando reaches across the table, picking up Oscar’s sprite and taking a long drink without asking. He didn’t care, he had other things clouding his tension to get mad over Lando once again taking without asking. “Ouch, was it not good?” Lando scoffs, “That’s gotta hurt mate,”

Oscar sees red. His eyes burn, his body- his face, neck, all the way from his chest down to his toes burn hot. “Shut the fuck up Lando,” His voice hitches at the end of the, the rest of the sentence forced out with a harsh breath. Rough and exhausted around the edges.

The Brit’s never seen Oscar like this. Oscar who wears the most bland expressions and attempted smiles as he goes around serving tables. Oscar who’s never raised his voice. Oscar who clamps his mouth shut with tightened lips whenever a customer bugs him. He just takes it. He’s not a guy who gets explosive, nor does he swear out of the context of being humorous

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Lando reaches his hand across the table, settling down on Oscar’s shoulder that’s closer to him. “Are you guys just.. not doing those kinds of things?” The way he says it sounds like he’s being overly careful and calculated as to not coax another bad reaction out of the brunet.

Upsetting Oscar is never his goal, in reality, he just wants to make him laugh. It may be kind of embarrassing, being a year and a half older than the Aussie, he thinks he should be the one that the younger is chasing for validation, but it’s really the opposite. He wants Oscar to like him, not like how he wants Carlos to like him, but he wants Oscar to feel that they’re close enough to speak about these things. Want to tell him about all the small things going on in his life and his relationship.

He partially wants to live vicariously through Oscar. He has what Lando wants, the boy he likes to like him back. Right now he can’t help but feel like Carlos is just stringing him along for the fun of it, or even if he likes guys.

Oscar’s eyes find a piece of fleece hanging onto the hem of his work issued polo and focus on it. It’s better then looking at Lando and certainly better then spotting Logan fucking prancing around as he hits each obnoxiously neon ball across the courts with the same elegance of a primaballerina. “No,” It’s only one word, yet he manages to shorten it further, almost to the point that it sounds like he didn’t even say anything. “I- We, yeah,” He gives up trying to explain, his fingers wrapping the rope of his drawstring jeans around his joints.

Lando shoots him a sympathetic smile, as if he needs sympathy. To Lando, it’s forced celibacy, like Logan is the one resisting each sexual advance he makes. In reality, Logan’s insinuated the wanting for something more than just kissing , but has consistently immediately stopped as soon as he saw the hesitation on Oscar’s face.

The Aussie can’t help but wonder if they’ll get to a point where Logan’s asked so many times that he just gives in and puts up with the shame, or Logan will be sick of the lack of intimacy and just leave him straight up.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do anything with him,” Lando assures him, his thumbs pushing uncomfortably into the neon stitching on the polo’s shoulders. Neon likes tennis balls, tennis like Logan. Logan likes Oscar.

“I know that,” His voice softens, his face too. He doesn’t want to be mad at Lando, he really isn’t anyways. Maybe he’s mad at himself, maybe he’s mad at his mind, maybe he’s mad that he can’t fucking just like Logan and not hate himself for it, but he’s definitely not mad at either Lando or the American. “But, yeah. Thanks,” He doesn’t note that it sounds somewhat insincere, because it really isn’t.

Lando swallows loudly, his hands clasping together and hitting against the edge of the table to accompany it. The sigh that leaves his mouth is loud, comparable to the noise of a leaf blower. “And I’m sorry about that comment I made, it wasn’t.., yeah, wasn’t cool,” He puffs his lips out and blows a raspberry. Oscar grins in amusement, his eyes creasing in the way that he finds something funny this time.

“All good,” He slides his drink back over to himself, chewing down on the floor absently. “Also, stop stealing my drinks,” He flicks Lando’s bicep, his broken index fingernail getting caught in the fabric. His mum pesters him to cut his nails more regularly since they grow seemingly at a far quicker rate then the normal person. He keeps them long for Logan who can’t get enough of the way his nails scratch into his scalp.

Lando shrugs, his body slouching down in the overly stiff and structured chairs, “Nah, you’ve got boss’ son’s privilege, surely he gives you some kind of discount,” He hums, his cheek full of air and bulging, the way he does when he’s deep in thought. That or sticking his tongue out slightly.

“You’d be shocked that I get fuck all,” Oscar’s mouth twists downwards in a way he reckons makes him look a bit like a frog. “His dad doesn’t know about us, so me getting a bonus or raise would be sorta out of the blue,”

“Not super strange, you’re certainly a better worker than me,”

“And I’m on break half the time,”

“Yeah, can you work on that? I don’t like the extra work,”

Just as Oscar’s about to give Lando the most dramaticised eye roll- the ones that make his hurts burn, two hands slide down his chest and clasp together in the middle. It’s not a heavy touch, more just barely grazing down the fabric. Based on how the skin around Lando’s nose creases in disgust, Oscar knows exactly who’s behind him.

He tilts his head back, the crown of his head hitting against the defined abdomen of Logan. “Hey,” The American grins down at him, his blond hair nearly brown from sweat and his face filled with exhaustion from his workout. Oscar thinks he looks beautiful, and for the first time today, he truly feels at peace with how he feels for the older boy. Missed you, he murmurs, and Logan’s smile grows wider. ‘Me too,”

Lando looks like he’s about to stand up, make an excuse that he’s had enough of his lunch break and he’ll just clock back in, simply to allow the ‘couple’ to have some space. Oscar feels bad though, Lando shouldn’t have to leave each time Logan comes around. “Stay,” Oscar presses his hand to the back of Lando’s. “Please?” He mouths. It’s time for his friend and maybe soon to be boyfriend-mutual crush to become friendly.

The Brit’s eyes flick in between the pair before finally settling back into his seat reluctantly. His lips spread into a tight near grimace, his line of vision trying to only catch Oscar. “I don’t think he wants me here,” Logan murmurs, dipping down to bury his face in the Australian’s hair, a soft kiss accompanying it. “I’m gonna go have a shower, have fun with Lan,” He rubs Oscar’s shoulders, his voice void of any jealousy or condescendingness. That’s just how Logan is, always so understanding.

“No,” His hand goes to wrap around Logan’s wrist, who simply jerks it back. “Logan,” His voice is more hardened this time, his eyebrows knotting together and twisting upwards. Please, I wanna spend time with you, when you’re right next to me- everything feels so right. I need to feel right about this, Lo. There are so many words fighting to spill out of his mouth, to just completely word vomit all over the other boys, but he keeps his composure.

Logan smirks, rolling his eyes slightly. “You’ll see me later, Oz, chill out,” His hand swipes along Oscar’s fluff of hair before he sets off for his own room. The room which he and Oscar have spent endless hours in, and no offence to Lando right now, Oscar really wants to be in that room right now.

“He’s touchy,” Lando comments mindlessly as if he’s already forgotten the conversation the two of them had just before. A clipped exhale leaves his nose as he pushes the statement to the side of his mind, hopefully to never be brought back up. He likes that Logan is touchy, but Lando having to comment on every single moment the two share is beyond irritating.

Being left in a semi awkward silence after Oscar chooses to just not reply, they decide to get some food in before they clock off for the day. Some days, they end just about half an hour after their lunch break, which seems redundant, but also works out pretty well in their favour. They order two club sandwiches, Oscar keeping all the toppings on while Lando opps to only keep the cheese and all three meats.

When their meals are delivered, Lando eats more than half of Oscar’s serve of fries and all of his own obviously. Judging by the way he keeps stuffing his mouth every time he looks up and meets Oscar’s eyes, he clearly has something he wants to say. It takes until he’s crunching down on his final ice cube that he finally spits it out, “What’s it like kissing a boy?”

A lump of half chewed up white bread gets stuck on its way down Oscar’s throat. It’s thick, soaked with saliva and impossible to swallow. “Huh?” He gags around the mass, trying to cough it back up to his mouth so he can properly chew it and not suffocate.

Lando cringes, looking away as Oscar continues to heave, his back hunching over like a cat. “Is it different to kissing a girl? Better? Worse? Are their lips rougher or softer? Do they taste like boys, like is it obvious that is a b-” Oscar rests his palm on his chest, feeling it raising and dropping readily as result of his body reacting post choke.

With a quick move, he whacks his hand swiftly into the centre of Lando’s chest, pushing a wheeze past the Brit's lips. “Ow? Fuck you?” He groans, sliding down in his seat as he finally stops talking for long enough for Oscar to actually recover.

“Sorry mate, needed you to shut up and I was sort of… unable to speak,” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a string of saliva snapping when he then wipes his hand against his shirt. He sighs deeply, trying to mentally note down all of Lando’s many questions. “Uh, where’s this curiosity coming from? I thought you and Carlos were.. you know,””

The tan expanse of Lando’s neck burns a deep red, the tips of his ears tinting a similar colour. “Nah,” His hands clasp and rest in his lap, “I’m not sure if Carlos is actually.. gay,” The word sounds shameful coming out of his mouth, as if he’s not used to nor is he comfortable using it. “So, it looks like we’re dating most of the time to people, and we kind of act like we are- but I think he just sees it as a ‘bromance’ thing,”

“Shit,” Oscar’s eyes squint slightly as the setting sun hits his direct sight of vision, blinding him. He hadn’t realised how late it had gotten, and they were far over their lunch break time by this point. “Man, I’m sorry,” He reaches out an arm to rub Lando’s shoulder, about as far of physical comfort the two teenagers will go.

The older boy lurches away from the touch though, a weird smirk of humour dancing on his lips. “I’m not looking for comfort, I’m looking to know what kissing a boy feels like,” He reiterates, getting an eye roll of Oscar. Serves him right for trying to comfort Lando, Lando who can’t take a single thing seriously.

The aussie crosses his arms over his chest, slumping back against his seat and staring wistfully off into the distance. “Well, I think it probably just depends on the person,” Images and phantom feelings of Logan’s kisses blurring into kissing girls before him mix in Oscar’s mind. “I’ve only ever kissed one boy, so I can’t speak for what all boys in general feel like,”

Lando doesn’t look satisfied with the answer, understandable given how vague it had been. His cheeks puff out as he fills them with oxygen, finding a way to phrase his next question as to not offend Oscar. “Is Logan a good kisser then? Is he.. just is it different then when you’ve kissed girls?”

Oscar nods without a doubt in his mind, yes to both questions at that. It’s weird to place them together as comparisons as they’re so vastly dissimilar and unrelated. When he’d kissed girls, it was almost because he felt obliged to. In dares, at dances, during spin the bottle, games. He’d never looked at a girl and so desperately wondered what her lip gloss would taste like. With Logan, he craved to know how his hair smelt, how it would feel as he dragged his fingers through it, how his aftershave would smell as it tickled Oscar’s nostrils.

“I really like kissing Logan,” He nods again for a lack of creativity of what to do with his head. “More than I’ve liked kissing other people, but I just like Logan in general. If you genuinely like Carlos, I reckon he’ll be a better kisser than any girl you’ve kissed or any boy you might kiss that you don’t really like,” It’s not pleasant being this vulnerable and sharing so much to Lando, it isn’t even really when it’s Logan. Oscar just isn’t the type of guy who finds pleasure in divulging into each intimate aspect of his life to anyone who will listen, so rambling on about kissing his crush isn’t exactly pleasurable.

But just thinking about it is, he could easily think about Logan’s wet and sticky mouth attached to his own for years to come. Lando talks and he’s aware of it, he hears the muted rambling of his twisted British accent and sees the exaggerated movements of his mouth to match it, yet his mind is too distracted to take in any sort of information.

When his mind slowly flicks back into focus, he doesn’t pick up on a single thing Lando has been speaking about, instead becoming hyper aware of his body. His lips feel weird, his whole body does. Like an itch burying itself just below the surface. His index and middle finger reached up to his mouth, pinching his bottom lip and twisting it back and forth. It alleviates the tingle, but not overly. It’s not even an intense pain, just a dull one that can’t simply be ignored.

He needs Logan. His body is actually aching for Logan.

“Mate, you look really unwell,” Lando notices based on the way that Oscar is twitching, basically forcing himself to stay still and in his seat. Oscar does feel unwell, he actually feels hellish. The quicker he can escape this conversation, the better.

“I feel like shit,” He hums, his nails scraping against the cushion under his ass. “I need a shower, and a nap, and… nah, just those two things,” Lando gives him a knowing look, “And Logan,”

A barking laugh comes out of Lando who kicks at Oscar’s ankles until he’s pushing his chair out to get away. “Then go be with Logan, I’ll just watch the tennis and see if I can find someone better than Carlos,” There’s a satisfactory smirk on his face as he slides a pair of sunglasses down from on top of his head to the tip of his nose, a pair Oscar had somehow not seen the whole time they’d been sitting together and talking.

He doesn’t mention it though, just grabs his phone and wallet off the table, slamming a $10 bill on the table and rushing off. He’s halfway to Logan’s office/room/holiday bedroom when he realises a perk of working here is that he gets free food, meaning Lando is officially $10 richer and Oscar $10 poorer.

His fist is rapping on Logan’s door before he’s even comprehended that he’s actually made it there. There’s a shuffle that sounds on the other side, closer and closer until the door clicks open. “Hey Dad, I’m just-” Logan turns to look at who’s actually at the door and his eyes wide. “You are not my father,”

Oscar wants to make a retort of how awkward it would be if he was, but his mouth seems to have more control over his actions than his mind. His right hand grips at Logan’s mess of ungelled blond hair, the lighter ends peeking out between his fingers. His mouth is hot and heavy on Logan’s, so desperate and dominant it feels like he’s trying to consume the American.

“Fucking hell Osc,” His rough is rough and breathless, debauched around the edges, “What’s going on, baby?” Desire pools in Oscar’s stomach purely from the way Logan’s American accent melts with the word. “So needy,”

Oscar slides his hand up the blond’s shirt, light dustings of pale hair brushing against his palm. Logan’s skin is warm, so warm. He feels like a fireplace, being bundled up in a thick blanket while snow pounds outside. Oscar can’t get enough of him, he’s like a drug.

His teeth nip against Logan’s plump bottom lip, pulling a pleasured groan from his mouth. Logan’s hands trail up Oscar’s back, the touch of his fingertips sending burning shots of sinful lust through his body. “I- fuck you for leaving me with Lando, that conversation was awful,” His slender fingers clench together to trap bundles of hair between each digit, effectively helping to yank Logan off him.

He’s all blushy at the comment, unable to even pretend he’s apologetic. “Was that my punishment for abandoning you, then?” He mocks, his mouth in a twisted up grin against Oscar’s lips. A shaky nod of confirmation gets him to keep going, “You’re really shit at punishments in that case, because that was really good,” Hands grip Oscar’s hip, holding him in place to take control back over the scenario.

It’s exactly how each makeout goes, taking turns being the dominant one- fighting for control. It shows on the court too, a steadily improving tennis player of Oscar getting increasingly more eager and confident to show off to Logan, portraying himself as the epitome of professional tennis.

He might not quite have the refined talent yet, but he has the confidence to carry him for miles.

Within a matter of moments, Oscar somehow caves and gives Logan the satisfaction of leading. The older needed that, based on how his tongue mercilessly shoves into Oscar’s mouth and his lips ram aimlessly into the brunet. Logan had got him onto the bed, pinned underneath him.

His thighs bracket Oscar’s lower body, knees into the soft flesh that pads over the aussie’s hips. He won’t say it aloud, given Oscar gets all blushy, in an embarrassed and unpleasant way whenever Logan mentions just how much he likes that about his hips, but they just might be his favourite thing about the younger’s body. The softness, how squishy they are, fucking biteable.

Logan would gladly leave endless hickeys on that patch of his skin, littering the pale untanned spots of his usually covered body. Yet, those thoughts are reserved for late nights, those where he allows the sinful thoughts he has for the boy to run wild. He doesn’t want to scare Oscar away with those thoughts, keeping them hidden within the heated space his weighted blanket creates, with his heavy pants trapped underneath the sheets.

And as much as he wants to keep going, keep Oscar’s plush lips up against his own, he’s far too hard to maintain any normality, so he pushes away, struggling to get off of Oscar. “Sorry,” His voice breaks as his breathing fights to be louder. “I’m just,” They both glance down, “yeah,”

Oscar gets it, he doesn’t get angry. He’s happy that Logan’s able to articulate when they need to stop. Deep down, they probably both wish they could take it further, but there’s lingering doubt playing in both of their minds. For Logan, it’s the fear of not being accepted by others. For Oscar, it’s internal. “Do you just wanna cuddle?”

Oscar buries his nose into the crook of Logan’s neck, his senses flooded with the sharp taste of a cologne that costs more than he earns in a year. Well. Almost. It’s his favourite scent in the whole world, sharp tones of amber and wood. If he ever has enough money at one time, he’ll buy the scent, wear it each day just to think of the blond. “I’m sweaty,” He murmurs back, feeling an uncomfortable patch of sweat seeping from his polo back onto the space just between where his shoulder blades meet.

“Well, I like when you’re sweaty then. You smell good too,” He plants a peck to the top of his head, followed by another, and another, and another. Each more slobbery and wet then the last. It’s the most annoying thing he does, covering Oscar in drooling kisses that coat him in rings of spit.

“Loooo,” He groans, wiggling out of his forever tightening hold. Oscar’s only able to turn around, his back planted to Logan’s chest while he continues to be attacked by wet kisses. “Stop, that’s so gross,” Logan’s insistent, both his hands moving to link around his tummy so he can’t leave and get away from the kisses. He does however move where he leaves them, trailing down the side of his face down the side and back of his neck.

He hums lowly, his nails hitching up the thick fabric of Oscar’s shirt with ease. “Can I give you a hickey?” It’s undiscovered territory, not even something that’s met the air between them. It’s a thought Logan keeps to himself and only allows it to come to the front of his mind past midnight. But it’s so prevalent recently, being the only tangible thought that crosses his mind throughout the day.

Fuck the fear of potentially scaring off Oscar with the request- he’ll never know if he never asks.

“Y-yeah,” That’s all it takes for Logan’s lips to seal around a patch of pale skin on the back of his neck. The contact sparks goosebumps to shoot down Oscar’s arms and legs, pale brown hair sticking directly upwards. His teeth graze gently, trying to remember the last time he’d done this. He’s had next to no experience with another person, even less than Oscar, so it’s easier to think of articles he’d read about doing this in his early stages of puberty.

A pair of hands tangle up in his mop of hair, pulling him infinitely closer, “Mate,” Oscar moans. Logan finds himself back in the awkward situation from earlier with the tone of his shaking voice. His hips roll upwards, not attempting to insinuate anything, but more to alleviate the aching pressure on the area.

It must feel good for the younger boy as his hips roll back to meet the motion, the two of them acting like dogs in heat. “St-stop,” Logan laughs, pulling Oscar’s face closer to his, straining the Australian's neck who has to look over his shoulder to join the kiss. “You’re too hot Oz, I’m so hard,” It feels nice to admit that openly, especially when nothing needs to be done about it. It’s a statement, merely an observation. He’s not asking for Oscar to open his mouth or to cup his hand to help him out, and it takes off some pressure he’s been feeling.

Oscar reacts with a smile, a flattered one at that. Curiously, his gentle touch grazes the spot on his neck, wincing pleasantly at the sting. “Does it look good?” Logan examines the darkening splodge, looking satisfied with his word. It’s currently a ferrari red, but it’ll likely die down to a mauve as hours turn to days.

He’ll just need to be cautious about his fashion choices for the next week or so- opt for more sweaters and hoodies, even though the weather is excruciatingly hot. “Yeah,” It looks hot, hot enough for Logan to want to create a million more. “I like it,”

Oscar palms at the spot, his eyes fluttering shut at the singe of the bite. It’s good, insatiably good. He wants hickeys on every inch of his body if they feel this good. It would also mean being somewhat attached to Logan- mouth to skin. Now that is hot.

His arms loop back around Oscar’s waist, pulling him half onto his lap until he gives up, lying down with Oscar’s back flush to his chest. He’s able to smell Oscar’s hair like this, the sweet and sour apple scent of his shampoo and the natural clean ocean smell that is him. His mind becomes gradually more foggy, any thought besides the heavy mass of the boy on top of him is so distant.

That is until a familiar voice brings him back to life. “Logan. Hunter. Sargeant.” And it’s definitely not coming from the body ontop of him.

Fuck, shit, fuck

Shit.

Oscar’s muscles go rigid, scrambling to get off Logan from where his legs have been trapping one of the American's knees in between. He whacks the back of his neck, quickly covering up the hickey. He feels like a preteen getting caught by his parents while watching a MA 15+ or R 18+ movie, or staying up far past his bedtime playing on the switch. Yet this time, he’s getting caught on top of the boy he’s basically dating, by said boy’s boyfriend.

And worst of all, it’s his literal boss.

“Dad,” His voice comes out as a squeak, far more vulnerable and scared then Oscar’s ever heard him. He knew Logan had doubts about how and when to come out to his parents, but he knew it wouldn’t be for a while.

He’d just had that very privilege stripped from him.

Daniel looks like he’s about to say something rather harshly worded to his son until his eyes flicker to the other boy, his lips pursing and eyebrows wiggling in confusion. “Piastri?”

“Sir,”

“Oscar?”

“Yes, Sir,”

“Oscar Piastri?,”

“Yes, Sir,”

Daniel looks completely bewildered, even in the dim lighting of the room, his expression incredulous. His stare is pulled from Oscar, moving back to his son. “Logan, explain yourself,” The tone isn’t as jarring as either boy would’ve expected out of him given the situation, but it still feels Logan with dread and unease.

He wishes he could bury his face back into the tight muscles that ripple across Oscar’s back, submerge himself in the salty aroma of him and be so blissfully unaware of anything else in the world. He craves that comfort back, to be so far away from here- mentally and physically. “I don't know how,” It’s not a lie per say.

He’s not sure just how much he should go into detail about. Calling it a hookup or friends with benefits situation is crude to say to his father and insulting to Oscar, but saying their dating is a lie. His father’s face doesn’t flicker in reaction, so he has to come up with something. “Oscar and I enjoy spending time together, and we like one another,” Yeah, that’s good enough.

His father looks less than pleased, but he doesn’t look fuming. He’s not red in the face, puffing air out of his bottom lip like whenever he used to religiously watch Logan’s tennis matches, bunching his hands up into fists and yelling out each time Logan made a mistake. So, he really can’t be that mad. “Sorry Oscar, I would like to talk to my son individually,”

Oscar has never been more glad to be fully dressed. He crawls off the bed, his toes curl as his feet hit the cold hardwood floor. His instincts tell him to give Logan a little peck, a kiss to say we’ll talk soon, but it hardly feels appropriate, so he settles with giving him a final look back over his shoulder before the door clicks shut in his face.

A swirl of discomfort settles in the bottom of his stomach, and his sandwich from earlier feels as if it's about to make a reappearance. He compresses the thought, his feet quickly padding away from the door and into the storage room. Him and Logan’s storage room. There’s a few resounding smells encasing him as the door snaps closed after him- some organic peanut butter, burnt caramel, and vanilla extract from a glass bottle that had smashed during one of their mid-work/practice makeout sessions in here, leaving the brown liquid to seep into the wooden shelves below.

Oscar sinks to his knees, his back planted up against a gas tank. The room feels tight around him and how he and Logan are able to both comfortably stand in here seems impossible right now. He feels trapped, yet so comforted and safe. It’s like a hug, just too tight to the point that it’s unpleasant, yet, it is still a hug. He wishes it was one of Logan’s overbearing, too tight hugs. The ones he claims to hate, the ones he weasles his way out of, feigning hatred for public physical affection. He hopes Mr Sargeant will come around, that he’ll allow Logan to continue to spend time with Oscar.

Yet, right now, he needs fresh air, he needs to be rid of all the smells that are authentically Logan. He makes a beeline for the infamous table at which he’d seen Logan from for the first time, where he’d daydreamed about the American- watching him play on the court, where he’d been interrupted during his lunch break a few too many times with a soft kiss to his forehead. He clocks as soon as the table is in sight that the 10 dollar note he’d left Lando is still there, clearly the brit had done the right and left it.

But, it was an idiotic decision just leaving money on an abandoned table. Lucky, but so stupid.

He takes the seat he always does, the one that gives him the perfect view of the court Logan always plays at. From the distance he’s at, he can't quite see the deep smile lines he adores so much, or the piercing blue eyes that he sees in his dreams, but the golden strands on top of his head are enough of a sight to keep him absolutely enamoured.

Thinking about all of this- Oscar doesn’t think it’s the worst thing ever that people might find out about the two of them. He’d love to show Logan off, have a voice seeping with pride when he flaunts that the Logan Sargeant is all his. That’s all he wants, maybe it’s even all he’s wanted for a while.

Sitting down feels wrong, there’s still that emptiness inside of him, a buzzing distraction that’s patiently waiting for Logan to emerge from his room to give him the verdict- are they even allowed to hang out from now on?

A sinking realisation burrows itself deep in his bones, what if he loses his job over this? It’s breaking work policy, it must be. God, he’s gonna get fired, he’s gonna lose his job. There won’t be a single thing connecting Oscar to Logan- he’ll lose him. He’ll lose him before he’s even really had him.

So he does the only logical thing that he knows will calm the panic in his head. He runs down to the court, picking up a free racquet and a few lone balls, practising his serves. They’re awful, the swings are too hard and uncontrolled, sending each neon globe into varying directions. Each thwack helps return his pounding heart rate back to a normal pulse, the shallow sharp breathing he’s adapted to beginning to ease up.

He looks up to the sky, squinting to see if rain is actually falling on him or if he’s just absurdly sweaty. It doesn’t take long to realise neither option is right- he’s crying. Fat, hot tears spill down his cheeks, his quivering bottom lip pierced by his top teeth in an attempt to keep it in place. He doesn’t want to cry, doesn’t want to let the world know just how scared all of this makes him. Logan scares him, to a degree. He’s scared of just how much he loves the American and how much it would absolutely kill him if he didn’t get to ever be with him.

So he keeps hitting, a new feeling and compressed though coming out with each one.

Thwack, don’t leave me Logan.

Thwack, Mr Sargeant, I promise to be more attentive during work hours and take less breaks if you allow me to keep seeing your son.

Thwack, I wanna be with you Logan, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

Thwack, I wish this all made sense to me.

Thwack, I wish I wasn’t scared to be happy.

Thwack, I don’t want to experience happiness if I can’t share it with Logan.

Thwack, I love Logan. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. I. Love. Logan.

He loves Logan.

Two hands clasp around his own, guiding his swing towards the next ball the machine catapults out directly forward, an objectively perfect swing. It doesn’t a single word for him to identify just who it is. “Fuck, Lo,” He turns around without a single thought, burying his face into the older’s neck. “What did he say?”

The grin on his face speaks a million words, “He said we need to learn to lock the door, but otherwise- we’re all good, Oz,” Both of their cheeks hurt from how wide their smiles stretch across their faces. Oscar is smashing his face into the blond’s before he even realises he’s doing it. It’s their first kiss out in the open, and even though no one else is around to see it, it’s a step.

There’s so much fondness sparkling in Logan’s eyes as Oscar pulls away, his usually pale lips tinted a peachy pink, spit spread across to look glossy. “I’ll never get over those kisses,” A million small pecks follow that one, a few lasting slightly longer than the last.

Confession pricks at Oscar’s skin, forcing its way up his throat, trying to pry his mouth open and bring itself to light. He can’t hold it back much longer, nor does he want to. He isn’t willing to find himself in another situation where he worries whether he’ll have Logan ever again, “I love you, Logan,” Nothing has felt more right to say, and he’s not scared to either.

“I love you too, Osc,” Looks like Logan might be suffering from guessing whether it’s raining or not based on the clear strips staining his cheeks. His hands bunch up in Oscar’s hair, wisps of brunette hair tangling over his knuckles. “A whole fucking lot,” The world feels still when he says it, like everything he’s ever wanted has clicked into place. It’s right, it’s perfect, it’s them.

But something is missing.

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

A mouth full of once braces-yielding straight teeth gleams right at him, “Yes Oscar, I would love to be your boyfriend,” He grins, pulling him back into one of the sloppy kisses he claims to hate so very much, yet there’s nothing he loves more than it right now.

Well, except for Logan.

#logan sargeant #oscar piastri #f1 #formula1 #formula one #mclaren #williams racing #lando norris #carlos sainz #loscar #logan x oscar #chat we need more loscar gifs #because i cant just use this damn one every time

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