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#I’d like to think it gets better for him eventually
corrodedcoffins-blog · 21 hours
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Caught the L-O-V-E
masterlist
note: writing nonsense outros is the funnest thing ever
warnings: none :)
word count: 980
♡ summary: Quinn only falls more and more in love after going to his girlfriends concert
♡ Quinn Hughes x fem!reader
request ✓
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The team was excited. They had been since Y/n insisted on giving them free tickets, some of the guys even brought their wives or girlfriends that were big fans. They were sat in the VIP tent, a couple fans had come to say ‘hi’ and Quinn got a few friendship bracelets he knew Y/n would love to see on the ride home.
Suddenly the screen behind started a countdown, causing the crowd to scream in excitement. And when the number got to zero out came the woman of the hour came out singing the opening lyrics of the first song. 
“Unexpected, this thing that we fell into
Like, so connected
You came at a time when my heart was selective”
When she came into the light Quinn could finally fully see her, he’d seen the outfit backstage before the show but it looked even better in the spotlight. Her short white skirt complemented her tan skin and puffed out at her hips to accentuate her hips.
This song was written at the start of their relationship, he knew Y/n was nervous about what would happen when they had to be long distance after they made it official, but after hearing her concerns Quinn made it his job to constantly call and make it work. And it did.
When the first song came to an end and when the cheering died down, Y/n started talking to the crowd. Even after performing for so long, and getting to bigger and better stages, talking to fans was still her favourite part of the show.
“Hello, Vancouver! It’s so nice to meet you all! But I just have to point out, during that first song I saw a sign! I think it was over here!” She walked across to the other side out the stage, reading the signs as she meant along, finally stopping when she found it, “Yeah here it is! The sign says ‘I’d never make you get on top’ and that is so kind thank you so much!”
Quinn had always admired Y/n stage presence, the way when she was on stage or in front of a camera all eyes were on her. And of course her ability to be effortlessly funny. He admired her as she continued to talk to fans and about the next song, he knew the setlist like the back of his hand so he didn’t listen too hard to the explanation since he lived it. 
He more so paid attention to the smile that was on her face, she was in her element and he loved seeing her on stage, just like how she loves watching him play. Her hair cascaded down her back, the curls were shiny in the bright lights, her bangs were perfect as always as well as the pieces that framed her face beautifully. 
What eventually broke him from his loving gaze was the crowd yelling the lyrics to a song written about him. 
“He’s good for my heart, but he’s bad for business”
He admired her more, loving the sound of her voice and her subtle dance moves, mostly the sway of her hips. After that song song and many more it was the second to last song of the night. Really Quinn was just thankful that after this son he could go backstage and wait to meet Y/n as soon as she gets off.
“Think I only want one number in my phone!”
He loved watching his girl dance on stage to this song, he loved watching how much fun she had and how much fun the fans had singing along. He looked around at his group and it seemed the Canuck’s girls were having just as much fun. And the Canucks had fun patting Quinn on the back during the song.
“I caught the L-O-V-E
How do you do this to me?” 
That, despite popular belief, was his favourite line of the song. Because it was when she first showed him this song that she said she loved him. Her own, right on brand, silly way of telling him and he loved her for that. She made it even better by looking at him while she sang it, neither told anyone of how they first said it, it was just between them.
“Woke up this morning thought I’d write a-!” “POP HIT”
“How quickly can you take your clothes off!” “POP QUIZ!”
Everyone quieted down when it got to the time of the outro, the most anticipated and shared part of the show.
“He said that I taste like sugar, he’s a little younger, don't call me a cougar, c’mon you know I love you, Vancouver!”
The words about his age caused him to lower his head, while shaking it, laughing under his breath and a rose colour coming to his cheeks. The security came over after the outro to escort him backstage. Which he was happy about since it meant he didn’t have to stick around for any teasing from his teammates.
He got to catch the last few lines of Y/n’s closing number from backstage, they directed him to where she was supposed to leave the stage so he could see her first. Which he did. 
She yelled her goodbyes and sent for her kisses to the crowd as she disappeared backstage and as soon as she saw Quinn she ran to him, he lifted her up so her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms were around his neck, he supported her under her thighs.
“You were amazing, baby.” “Thank you. I love you!” “I love you too, so much. I’m so proud of you.” 
She brought her face out of his neck and leaned up to press a kiss to his lips, not caring about  the crew that could see them, she only cared about him. And him about her.
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coco-loco-nut · 3 days
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Revelations - Part 3
Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Reader
Summary: a fic focused on the readers career because YOU ARE A QUEEN
a/n: i wrote this before the Newey/RBR break up. i also can’t stop ending my fics with a social media post 😭
requests open masterlist
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When Daniel retired from F1, you were ready to pull the plug on your career, but he wouldn’t let you. He saw the passion you still had and didn’t want to extinguish it just because he wasn’t going to have a seat in the race anymore. Instead, he decided to live his best life as a stay-at-home dad while also coaching Florence who was naturally drawn to her dad’s karts.
Your family eventually moved to England, it being the easier move with your job promotion and Florence’s karting. You took the Chief Engineering Officer position after Daniel retired, working closely with the man who taught you so much. Adrian and you were a dynamic duo, the cars you build together are rocket ships. Daniel is an ambassador for Red Bull when he isn’t with Florence at karting competitions. You’ve been teaching Sidney about the mechanics behind karts and the cars, letting him come to work with you to shadow once in a while.
You walk into Christian’s office to remind him about the family dinner tonight, Max already promised to be in attendance with P and Kelly.
“Y/n, mind taking a seat?” Christian asks, you think nothing of it, figuring he just wants an update on the car.
“What’s up? There isn’t much of a progress update yet,” you say, sipping your coffee.
“I’d like to sign Florence into our driver development program. Not just because she is a Ricciardo, but because she has the technical knowledge and the talent. I know someone with Rodin who has a seat open for her in Formula 4,” Christian says and you nod, having gotten a similar offer from Mercedes and Ferrari. You feel pride in your daughter, her hard work and drive being recognized by top programs. It’s extra special because Christian is using his connections to help get her a seat with Daniel’s old F3 team.
“The PR will be tricky to manage, but would you like to tell her at dinner tonight?” you smile, F1 fans already joke about Red Bull being Ricciardo central. Sidney is preparing for his semester finals for Mechanical Engineering and you can’t believe it’s been ten years since they made their first paddock appearance. You negotiate some terms with Christian, the most important being that if she wants to leave the program and go to another, she can.
“We will announce it once she’s signed with the team, I’ll give my person a call,” Christian lets you know before you go to your office. You admire the family photo you took when Florence won the CIK-FIA world championship last month. She’s been dominating British karting all year, Daniel has been working so hard to help her get where she wants to be.
Your day flies by, and before you know it you are all seated in your living room.
“How’s the driver program selection going?” Max asks Christian, genuinely curious.
“I actually made my selection today, Florence, how do you feel about the family legacy?” Christian beams as her face lights up.
“Really? Oh my god, thank you Uncle Christian!” she darts over to him to hug him. “Uncle Maxie, you better watch out,” she grins at Max, who is a Red Bull institution.
“I’ll be very lucky if I am still racing when you get to F1, but I will be happy to coach you,” Max chuckles, knowing he’s pushing the limit of his career.
“No way, that job is reserved for me,” Daniel tells Max who just frowns at his friend for taking away his plan.
A few years later, your whole family is essentially traveling race to race. Sidney is interning with Red Bull, Florence is racing with Rodin in F2, and Daniel is living his best life as a commentator.
“Y/n, let’s grab coffee,” you’ve noticed that Christian tends to say that when he has something important to say.
“What’s wrong?” you cut straight to the chase.
“Max is retiring after this season and I am going to retire as well,” Christian says and a silence falls between you.
“It’s a well deserved retirement for both of you,” you say after a couple seconds.
“I am recommending you for team principal. I also want you to be involved in choosing who is the next driver for the team,” Christian says and you pause.
“I would be honored, that would be huge shoes to fill,” you say after a second.
“You deserve it, you’ve worked your way up from the bottom,” Christian reassures you. In the next month, you signed your contract and got Oliver Bearman to replace Max’s seat.
“You should’ve let me take the seat, Mom,” Florence smiles, you shake your head.
“Not yet, you are a wonderful driver, but I can’t sign you my first year as team principal,” you tell her. Your promotion has been well received among staff and fans. You take the promotion seriously, learning what you don’t know while Christian is still there.
Five years later you walk into testing excitedly. It is a special day for your family.
“Daniel Ricciardo here reporting from the Paddock for testing, let’s see who we can grab,” your husband says, looking towards the entrance where you are walking in. “Y/n Ricciardo, have a second for an interview,” he smiles as you ate into the frame.
“I do, rare for a team principal,” you smile adoringly at your husband, still the young driver getting his shot in your eyes.
“How do you feel going into testing?”
“Great, my engineers and I have worked hard on the car, we are excited to see how it performs against the field,”
“And you have a new driver this year? How is that going?”
“Well so far, as a team we’ve been watching her for years. She’s worked hard with our junior team and we are always excited to bring young talent in. It’s always a tough decision when choosing someone for a seat, but we are confident in our choice,” you say, keeping things professional. The fans watching live are loving the interview, commenting about how your family is acting as if you aren’t a family.
“One last question, your new driver, Florence Ricciardo, is bringing in her own race engineer, Sidney Ricciardo, an engineer who worked for Red Bull Racing in the past. Are there any worries about an unproven race engineer?” Daniel says, the two of you somehow keeping a straight face.
“Obviously we want our drivers to be comfortable with their race engineer. Sidney has been with the team for a while before going to McLaren, so we are excited to welcome him back. Our team has worked with him to familiarize himself with the job, and he will be beside me on pit wall today for that reason,” you explain, a small smile holding back the laughter.
“Thank you for your time, Y/n. Good luck today,” Daniel tells you before you walk off. The video goes viral among F1 fans for the sheer humor of it. Fans also love that Florence and Sidney are following their parent footsteps and career paths.
“That interview was so funny,” Sidney sits beside you in hospitality.
“Thank you, Sid. I may be old but I can still be funny,” you smile at your son. “Are you nervous? I remember how nervous I was on pit wall the first time as your dad’s engineer,” you ask him.
“I am your son, I’ve got it in the bag, plus it’s only Flo,” Sidney says as Florence barges into the room, sitting beside you. Daniel follows behind her, quietly sitting beside her.
“Thanks for basically disowning me on live television, Mom. Oh, hi Dad,” Florence hugs her dad as you all try not to laugh.
“Come on, Flo, it was funny watching Mom and Dad act like we all weren’t related,” Sidney laughs. The social media team takes a picture and posts it on twitter.
twitter
@redbullracing: guys, a bunch of people with the last name Ricciardo are sitting in our hospitality, I guess all but one works for us. Apparently they know each our team principal? Are they related or is this just a weird coincidence?
@y/nricciardo not related to me, just a weird coincidence.
↪️@florencericciardo MOM! STOP DISOWNING ME
↪️@sidneyricciardo no, no, please continue disowning her
↪️@danielricciardo Do you know who these two are, Y/n? I don’t recognize them
↪️@y/nricciardo I’m sorry, do I know a Daniel?
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allycot · 17 hours
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f i n a l l y finished reading the novel (a stream of random crazy thoughts, sorry not sorry.) And I’d say that, as for me, it’s way, way better than the untamed that just feels like its vanilla version, to be honest (though I don’t mean that it’s completely bad.) I liked that I finally understood more details I missed out or did not know about earlier. I liked the author’s style and humour, the thing that even secondary characters seem unforgettable, and also the thing that there are no fully good or bad characters, i.e. everyone has the traits that you can love or hate.
of course, I like wangxian in my own way, and after reading, I got a weird thought like these two could actually be each other’s somewhat reflection. Though Lan Wangji looked like an example of “perfection”, still and cold, he seemed to wanting to do something reckless or something beyond his principles, while Wei Wuxian, being that one epitome of a mess, had thoughts about just having a peaceful life (that would include LWJ.) And I actually liked LWJ as a character himself, i.e. even out of wangxian, as I liked him in all its adaptations. He seems to be deeper than just a human version of an iceberg (a special “I feel you bro” moment when he gets drunk, as, for certain reasons, I’m pretty sure it would be exactly me if I drank, though I’m not into it at all.)
it was a surprise for me to actually love the yi city plot, it could really be good even as a separate story. A more surprise for me was to like Xue Yang, who managed to become one of my favourite characters. He’s a bitch, but an interesting bitch. I can’t help but love the antagonists in this story.
I felt sorry for my baby Wen Ning who was punched/slapped/thrown away almost every freaking time he appeared in a scene, god. And I was glad that, in the end, he did decide to choose something for himself and it’s not just following WWX.
But.
Jiang Cheng will remain my very favourite character in the story. He literally seems one of the most realistic characters to me, who’s not perfect (and no one can be perfect actually), who is fucked up enough, but who’s also able to care about the ones he appreciates, and I liked this imperfection (or maybe it’s also a response of my inner self, who knows.) There were the moments when I couldn’t agree with his actions, but I also think he did not deserve any of that hell happened to him, to his family, to their Sect, and I felt sorry for him. And his line with WWX will stay the most hurtful to me. And as much as I like WWX as well and could understand his actions and motives when he wanted to save the ones who helped him, I won’t fully understand his decision just, eventually, to leave the person who was his family; to leave in the moment when he needed him the most in a very difficult period. Despite their disagreements and difficulties they had between each other. I guess it’s a clear example of what happens when you don’t talk to a person to solve whatever you two need to solve. And it’s very sad.
Actually, there are more thoughts in my mind, and they could be sorted, but when I write, most of the thoughts fly away.
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am-i-interrupting · 2 days
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Could I ask for Rosie x a new delivery guy (reader) who gets adorably flustered whenever she compliments (and eventually flirts with) him? He eventually works up the courage to start complimenting her back.
(Maybe she occasionally gives him tips in the form of kiss marks that turn him into a bumbling, lovestruck fool?)
If you like what I’m doing consider tipping me for priority requests & access to characters I don’t usually write for such as Charlie, Valentino, Carmilla, and more.
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When you got a job at the Helluva Post, you never would have guessed that your afterlife was going to change in the best way.
You were one of the only people willing to venture into Cannibal Town for deliveries.
At first, it was purely because you’d get paid extra since no one wanted to go there and then it changed.
It changed when you were delivering a package to Rosie’s Emporium.
That’s where you met Rosie with her huge smile and shining, captivating dark eyes.
Her hand gently brushed against yours as you exchanged the package.
“Thank you, darling. I try not to have stuff delivered too often, I know you all don’t like coming out here, but I’ve been so busy I haven’t had the time to leave.”
You blushed and blinked several times. Your skin tingled just a bit.
“No problem, it’s a pleasure.”
You were hooked since that day.
You always tried to catch a glimpse of her when you delivered things to her town from that moment on.
Rosie didn’t pay it too much mine until you entered her emporium during a delivery.
You didn’t talk to her. She was too busy helping her people but you did look around. You didn’t buy anything but you felt like you knew her far better now.
Then she started ordering more and more packages.
She always started a bit of small talk—
“The weather’s real nice today.” “So, is that a uniform or just your style? I’ve got some clothes I’d think would look real spiffy on you.” “Did you hear what happened in the media district?”
—and you always fumbled with a reply.
“It’s been real. . . sunny recently.” “Um, yeah, it’s a- a uniform. But I could. . . I could, um, come over?” “No, I don’t really keep up with the news. What happened?”
She was a real pretty woman. You can’t be blamed for being flustered.
The interactions became common.
Once she asked you to come inside and set up a radio for her that she’d gotten costume made but didn’t know how to set up.
You’d gotten a look around her home and it was beautiful. You said as much and her smile was addicting.
That’s what encouraged you to say your compliments aloud.
She always got a smile so sweet on her face.
Slowly, your confidence began to build as you complimented her.
Then it was all shattered when she placed a kiss on your cheek and you were once again reduced to a flustered mess.
If you like what I’m doing consider commissioning me for canon/canon stories AND personalized canon/reader stories.
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fosliie · 11 months
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It’s just the two of us, or that’s what we swore
Wanted to make a lil comic for @lizardtheartist ‘s lovely Ghost Max Au! Just really gets to me the idea of your partner moving on while you’re left stagnant and stuck, a shell of who you used to be.
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0boko · 2 months
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thinking about dungeonmeshi s/i shenanigans… what if instead of being found by senshi, my s/i’s found by kabru’s group?
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jamminvroomvroom · 6 months
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everything.
ln x fem!reader
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in which you’re his best friend until you’re something more
hi! here you go lmao. probs the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and i am obsessed with the concept! thank you for being here and baring with me - i loved writing this one and i’d love to hear what you think! huge shoutout to my girlies @mcmuppet and @lavenderlando ily both!
songs that set the mood: pink and white by frank ocean, daylight by harry styles, angel by finneas, enchanted by taylor swift, hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, friends to lovers brain rot, slight corruption kink, readers first time, qatar angst
6.4k words
“do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered softly, your hand resting on lando’s sagged shoulder.
your eyes were fixed on the third place plaque on his table in front of you, his very much fixed on the floor.
“no.” his reply was short and sweet, his tone conveying exactly how deflated he was.
you’d only flown in to qatar this morning, the october sun hitting you hard as you walked into the paddock, drastically different to the london climate you’d grown accustomed to. lando had all but begged you to come, your evening before spent on the phone, and you knew that he needed a friend, otherwise he never would have asked you to fly halfway around the world.
friends. that’s what you were.
you’d hugged him tight and told him that the weekend had to get better, and then his teammate put it on pole and got his first win. so, yeah, maybe it wasn’t going to get better and not even the podium could cheer him up.
his radio messages had hurt your heart, your chest aching as he self deprecated in the cockpit. he owned his mistakes, sure, but he’d taken it a step too far and you knew you had a job to do. you’d do anything, quite literally anything, to cheer him up.
you’d always found a way to be there for eachother, your friendship spanning five long years after you’d knocked a coffee over a guy you quickly recognised as the new mclaren driver. both nineteen and awkward as hell, you’d um-ed and er-ed and danced around one another in the busy pret in central london, chucking tissues at him, attempting to mop up the frothy mess all over his white sweatshirt.
eventually you’d just burst into laughter, lando immediately following suit. your cheeks were hurting from smiling at the curly haired stranger, intrigued by the very way his faced moved when he laughed, and he’d looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, not like someone that had just destroyed a brand new hoodie.
and just like that, a connection was born.
you’d gotten used to having a friend for only half the year, but he never let you feel the distance. paddock passes often fell through your letter box and you could usually be located in the background of his streams when he was home long enough to do them, the amount of times you’d been wrongfully accused of being his girlfriend a list as long as your arm. even in those moments of awkwardness, friendship prevailed and you both managed to crack up together about the conspiracy that you were more than friends.
and what an intriguing conspiracy it was.
“we should get you back to the hotel, you need to get some rest.” you told him, standing from the sofa and offering him your hand.
lando grabbed it, squeezing, his own special way of telling you he was grateful for your presence, and let you pull him up. as he tried to walk towards the door, you stopped him, hands on his shoulders. you wanted to shake him, tell him how fucking great he was. you didn’t think he’d appreciate that after an intense session in the car.
“hey, look at me. you got this, okay?” you smiled reassuringly, managing to get the smallest crack back from him, his lips upturning ever so slightly. something in his eyes told you that you’d succeeded, a small glimmer of an emotion that you didn’t know how to unpack.
friends.
that’s what you were.
-
you tried to ignore how touchy lando was being. you figured he just needed some comfort, physical touch not out of bounds in your friendship, but a new level had been reached.
on the entire walk through the paddock to his car, his hand sat comfortably on the small of your back, despite the endless amount of cameras pointed at you. his hand skimmed your thigh in the car, accidentally, you told yourself, and you had to avert your eyes when his hand graced your headrest as he reversed out of the parking space. knowing that he needed you in qatar so desperately that he’d flown you out was one thing, the way he was treating you once you got there was something else.
he’d opened your door when you pulled up at the hotel valet, helping you out of the car, his hand tucked in yours for a second longer than necessary. once again, his hand seemed to be glued to your lower back the whole way to the elevator.
the ding of the lift had you both shuffling out onto your floor, trailing towards your rooms in a heavy silence, something more left unsaid in the air.
you reached your door first, coming to a stop and shuffling around in your bag for your keycard.
“um, i need to be at the track early tomorrow. breakfast?” lando asked.
you turned to look at him, nodding your head profusely.
“of course, just drop me a message and i’ll come down and meet you.” you affirmed, your fingers finally grasping the piece of plastic that had, of course, fallen to the very bottom of your tardis of a tote bag.
you expected him to leave, but he lingered, as if there was something else on his mind.
“you okay?” you raised an eyebrow, unlocking your door. lando seemed to snap out of it then, awkwardly running a hand through his curls that had taken a brutal hit from the humidity. you liked the look on him, nonetheless.
“yeah, i- yeah, i think i just need some sleep.”
“okay, well, goodnight. let me know if you need anything.” you disappeared through the door then, the tension getting the better of you. you slumped against the shut door, wondering what he so clearly wanted to say.
-
the clock read 1:32am on your bedside.
a faint tapping had woken you up, and you groggily scanned the room, trying to find the source of the noise. you deduced that it was coming from your door, letting out a groan as you threw the cosy comforter off and trudged towards the disturbance.
you cracked it open, peeking through the gap and coming face to face with your best friend.
“lando?” you croaked, opening the door further.
“i’m sorry, can’t sleep. can i come in? it’s okay if not, i just didn’t know what to do.” he sounded so shy, something you didn’t recognise in the man stood before you, and you quickly swung the door open, ushering him inside.
“come, sit.” you waved for him to follow you across the room to the foot of your bed. he sat down beside you, the mattress dipping.
you patted your lap and he instantly knew what to do, laying down with his head in your lap. it’s something he did quite frequently when you were sprawled on his sofa at home, watching a shitty movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. you’d often be looking at him, praying he didn’t notice, and he’d be playing with your fingers, tracing the palm of your hand.
you couldn’t help yourself, running your hand through his curls. you didn’t mean to, stomach instantly twisting with embarrassment, but it was quickly twisting with something else. his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan falling from the back of his throat. it made your thighs clench, and he must have noticed, the tiniest smirk on his face.
“you okay?” lando asked, his eyes still shut, a look of relaxation finally on his face.
you coughed awkwardly.
“yeah, sorry. are you comfy?” you said teasingly, trying to cut the growing tension in the room.
“i am now, could fall asleep here.”
“you can, you know.” you whispered. his eyes flew open. your heart was hammering in your chest. this was new territory and you were worried you’d fucked up. sleepovers were also a norm, but one of you usually retired to a guest room, not the other side of eachothers beds.
“you want me to stay?” his voice rose in surprise.
“well, i mean, you can if you want, like, there’s space and-“ you rambled.
“do you want me to stay?” he repeated.
“is it gonna help?” you questioned cautiously.
“yes.” the confidence in which he replied did something to you.
“then stay.”
you crawled up the mattress, falling back into the place you’d so comfortably occupied just minutes before. you laid so still, watching with quiet curiosity as he slipped his hoodie off. his shirt came with it ever so slightly, riding up over his back, and you had to pry your eyes away, the ache between your thighs still ever present.
what on earth were you doing, allowing your best friend to crawl into bed with you? emotions were running so high, but it felt like a switch had been flipped ever since you hit the tarmac in qatar. every look, every touch was fuelled by something different to what it had been before and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not.
lando turned towards you, making his way back over to the bed. he looked apprehensive, as if he was thinking the same thoughts as you, wondering if there was any logic in what was about to happen. he seemed to come to the conclusion that this was, in fact, happening, crawling into bed beside you.
“is this okay?” lando breathed into the darkness of the room, his hand brushing yours. you were both as still as planks, mere centimetres separating you, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed.
“yeah,” you took a deep breath, preparing for the words that were about to come tumbling out. “i’ve just never done this before.” you spoke quickly, sucking in another breath as you finished.
“you’ve never…”
“i’ve never shared a bed… like this.”
“like what?”
“with a… a guy?” your anxiety riddled words came out more like a question than an answer.
“oh. oh.” it seemed to dawn on lando then. “so, you’ve never… oh. i mean i can go if you’re uncomfortable.”
“lando, no, i just wanted you to know. i’m always comfortable with you.” you said, quietly baring your soul to him.
you weren’t sure why you’d basically told him you were a virgin. it held no relevance, he was just here to sleep, for some friendly comfort. he was not here for any other reason. and yet here you were, spilling the beans, all over the bed you found yourself sharing.
“i didn’t come here to, you know. i just needed you.”
you tried to ignore the pang in your chest and the annoying, minuscule butterfly springing to life in your belly.
“god, yeah i know! i didn’t think that you wanted to, well i mean not with me because why would you want me like that anyway, i get why you’re here, lando.” you rambled into the empty air. you heard yourself, groaning in embarrassment and dragging the cover over your face. lando laughed, pulling it back so he could see you again.
he was leaning over you, perched on his side, resting on his elbow.
“trust me, i’m more than happy with any part of yourself that you wanna give me.”
“don’t tease me, lando.” you scoffed. he was joking, right? right?
“i’m not! i promise, this is the one place i want to be.”
“why? why with me? i mean you could’ve called max. all he does is stream when you’re not home, think he misses you.” you were half joking, half deadly serious.
“come on, it’s you. it’s just… its been so hard this year, being away from you so much more. and then you came all the way here…” lando trailed off, averting eye contact.
you turned on your side to face him, placing your hand over his affectionately.
“you needed me.”
“exactly. i needed you. you.”
he gave you a look, one that you didn’t recognise, but you understood what it meant. it said more than anything had done since this confusingly beautiful interaction began. you got it, then, why you were here.
“lando-“
“i know that i shouldn’t tell you this and i can’t just spring this on you in the middle of the night, but i-“
“lando!”
“what?”
“kiss me.”
and god, he kissed you. the air was sucked out of your lungs, dragged out of you by the way he put his hands on your body, so urgent.
you sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up top. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now.
he paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.
“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” lando breathed, scanning your face as if he was trying to take it all in. you, panting beneath him, coy smile, cheeks flushed. you’d never looked so gorgeous to him.
you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.
lando pulled away, peppering your flushed cheeks with kisses, a dazed giggle passing your swollen lips.
he flopped onto his side, grinning at the ceiling mindlessly. you hadn’t seen him smile that big all weekend.
“are you tired?” you whispered, lips brushing his cheek, his light stubble rough against you. you wondered how it would feel elsewhere, scratching over your bare skin.
“no.”
“then why did you stop?” you asked, the words falling off your tongue slowly, sinking all over him like honey. you felt the way he tensed up, the suggestion that laced the seemingly innocent question making you tingle.
“i didn’t come here for that.” he reiterated.
“and i didn’t let you in for that. but here we are.” you weren’t ashamed of what you were asking, the moment was right, the one, and you knew it.
“it’s too soon.” lando was apprehensive. he was always overly protective of you, previously as his friend, but this, god, this was an entirely different ball park and he was proceeding with caution, against every natural instinct in his body screaming at him.
“says who?”
“it’s your first. it needs to be special.”
“everything about this is better than i could have ever imagined.”
“are you sure you want it to be me?” there it was again, those unrecognisable nerves that made everything inside of you flutter.
“lando, there is no one else i could ever want to do this with more than i want to do it with you. i want it to be you.”
“but… now? are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this.”
“the only thing i regret is that this didn’t happen sooner.”
“one last time. i just need to hear it one last time.”
“i want you, lando.”
and with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. lando pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.
“can i take this off?” he tugged at the hem of your shirt. you nodded profusely. “words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words.” lando cupped your jaw as he said it, squeezing ever so slightly, enough to turn you into putty in his hands.
“please. yes.” you said shakily.
he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.
“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.
“okay.” you choked out, head tipping back as he placed a kiss to the base of your throat.
his kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.
lando pulled away, just for a second, just so that he could shift you from his lap onto his thigh. he was still fully clothed beneath you, totally in control, and you craved him in a way you didn’t know was humanly possible, so much so that you didn’t need the encouragement he was giving you to start rolling your hips, pussy grinding down on his covered thighs, the friction of your underwear driving you insane.
“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.
“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. he licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.
and then he was kissing you again, tongue slow over yours, his fingertips surely leaving marks where he was controlling your pace. the kiss was filthy, untameable, and you found yourself dragging against him slower, harder.
“i need you.” you panted, forehead falling on his shoulder as you pulled away from his lips, goosebumps pricking your sweat slicked skin. you were so close to an orgasm, desperate to feel him everywhere.
“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, baby?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” and you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.
you were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. you were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. his arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.
“you did so well, baby.” lando crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”
“i want everything.” you breathed, pulling him against you. you smoothed your hands over his shirt until you reached the hem, dragging it up over his back. he helped you take it off, and then it was lost to the room. you grabbed at his shoulder blades, smooth, muscular planes of bronzed skin so warm under your touch. you felt insatiable, like nothing was enough, totally intoxicated by him and everything he was managing to make you feel.
lando’s hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.
“you’re so fucking good for me, god.” lando almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.
lando didn’t give you much time to dwell on it, mouth latching onto your underwear where it met the crease of your thigh. he was so close, so tantalising close to where you were aching for him and you were just about levitating off the bed when his teeth grazed your inner thigh. you couldn’t see him looking at you, losing it, inhibitions out the window. your eyes were already squeezed shut when he began mouthing over your cloth-covered pussy, spit further ruining the sodden material.
“take them off.” you cried out, tugging hard at his curls that you hadn’t even realised you were clutching for dear life. and lando was a good listener, because he complied immediately, tearing the lace down your legs like a starved man.
his tongue was on you then, everywhere all at once, running through your folds and over your clit. you didn’t know if you were dead or alive, a different kind of pleasure than anything you’d ever experienced coursing hot through your veins. lando switched between long, slow licks, his tongue flat against you, and rapid kitten licks, burying his face in your cunt.
everything was moving in slow motion, your hands grasping frantically at anything you could reach; his curls, the sheets, his shoulders. you could barely make out what he was saying, his words muffled, lost to the soft flesh between your legs. it seemed to echo, every lick, stroke, word. you snapped out of it, finally, when he pulled away.
“more? you want my fingers, baby? gonna get you nice and ready for me.” you just nodded, voice lost to the air of the room.
one arm locked around your thigh, pinning you still, and the other snaked up your leg until he reached the mess between your thighs. he took a moment to take it in, how wet you were, how fucked out you looked, knowing full well he must have looked the same, unhinged as he gave into your shared desire that he’d tried his best to keep hidden. he’d never felt more stupid in his life for holding back, as he took in the ethereal delight sprawled under his touch.
when lando slid the first finger in, your stomach twisted deliciously. he watched you carefully, searching for discomfort but all he could find was sheer bliss, written all over your face as clear as daylight. he worked the digit in and out, nice and slow, curling against your walls. he could feel how tight you were, clamping around just one finger and he thought his head was gonna explode. he added another finger, watching the way you took him in, twisting his fingers.
“are you gonna let go for me again, sweetheart?” lando punctuated his words by putting his mouth back on you, teeth grazing your clit as he sucked.
you were thrashing, a silent scream building from the fire in your belly. you could just about make out the way he was spurring you on, his mouth running as you spilled over the edge, covering his fingers. you saw white, maybe god, ears ringing, and when you finally mustered the energy to look at him, you could have come for a third time. lando looked feral, lips red and coated in everything you had to offer him. his eyes were glazed over, a hazy grey that sent a jolt through your body, the aftershocks of the orgasm setting in.
“christ.” was all you could sigh out. a lazy smile painted your face, your eyes blown out, everything a little blurry. everything except him.
you could feel him scaling up your body, crawling over you until he was level with your face. he placed a kiss to your throat, your jaw and finally your lips; when he pulled away all that was left was shared giddy smile, both of you suddenly shy. you couldn’t stop the roaming of your hands, exploring all the parts of him that you could reach. when you found the waist band of his joggers, your hand grazing his abs as you did, he sucked all of the air out of the room, a sharp inhalation making him tense up.
“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. lando was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.
“all of you. lando, this is… you’re perfect.” you admitted, lips brushing his. your hands pushed the material down his hips, nails raking over him as you did. he couldn’t seem to wait any longer, kicking them off the rest of the way, his boxers quickly following suit.
you couldn’t help but stare, all of him bare against all of you. your nipples brushed his chest, his hands holding you close, your hands threaded through his curls. it was like you were sussing each other out, eyes watching lips and hands getting lost. you stayed like that for a moment, pressed together, closer and closer, until he was slotted between your legs like he was coming home. lando searched your face one last time, hunting for a smidge of discomfort.
“are you ready for me?” he whispered.
“yes.”
the initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. he felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting.
“oh, fuck.” he was shuddering, trying to keep himself in check.
“don’t, oh god,” you started, meeting the roll of his hips. “don’t hold back.”
“we gotta go easy.”
“i don’t want easy.” you tightened around him then, and he saw stars.
“you’re so fucking good.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back. how much he wanted you, and a bittersweet weekend of frustration versus success came crashing down and he couldn’t do anything except give himself to you exactly how you wanted.
lando was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.
“you like it like this? like when i fuck you nice and hard?” yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? such a good fucking girl.” you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”
you couldn’t process that this was your best friend lando. this was a different person, it had to be. yet, somehow, it made sense that the man you knew, the one who spoke his mind, mischievous and troublesome, would be like this, a god above you as he fucked deeper into you with every thrust. he was filthy and gentle, brutal and sweet. it didn’t make sense, but it also just did.
“are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, his wish was your command, because then you were gushing. the one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.
lando was kissing you everywhere. each hip bone was met with his lips, your stomach, over your ribs, breasts, clavicle, neck. your face was covered in kisses next, your cheeks, forehead, a dainty peck to your nose.
“can you look at me?”
your eyes cracked open slowly, the exhaustion hitting as you came back to reality.
“was that okay?” there he was again, this shy version of lando that you couldn’t get used to.
“okay? lando that was…” you shook your head in awe. “that meant everything to me.”
he smiled then, that gorgeous, gorgeous smile, the one with the crinkles by his eyes and his teeth on full display. you melted.
“me too. you’re fucking beautiful. so, so fucking beautiful. should’ve told you sooner.” he murmured.
his words made you think, way too hard for your current state. what happened next? lando had said some things, some pretty big things that you didn’t know how to comprehend. it was crazy, how scared you were to bring it back up to him, considering he’d just been inside of you.
“sooner?” you whispered, hardly audible. lando was midway through tucking you both into bed, pulling your flushed, naked body into his own under the duvet.
“yes. a lot sooner.” he replied, not a trace of doubt in his voice.
‘how much sooner?’ you thought to yourself, unable to stay awake any longer to agonise over it, your dreams haunted by the way he touched you so well. it was magnificent to fall asleep in his arms, and you couldn’t help yourself from wondering when it would happen again.
-
you woke up tangled with him, fingers stroking your cheek, smoothing your hair out of your eyes.
lando was always so warm, but now his tanned skin radiated sunshine, a beacon of light in your bed. you smiled, eyes still shut, shielding yourself from the streaks of light casting over the room from the crack in the curtains.
“what time is it?” you croaked, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub away the sleep.
“gone eleven. i need to go, baby.”
baby.
you hadn’t gotten a chance to take my notice of the things he’d called you last night, too caught up in the way he played with your body. now that you heard it, in the calm after the storm, it made you swoon.
“already?” you tried to hide your disappointment, not quite ready to detangle yourself from him.
“need to get to the track. i think i’m already late. i just wanted to be here when you woke up.” lando sounded so soft, not as groggy as you, and you wondered how long he’d been awake, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest.
“thank you.” you knew that you’d have spiralled waking up alone, and you were immensely grateful that he’d stayed.
lando began to get up, wincing at your whine of protest.
“i’m sorry. i’ll have someone pick you up later, okay? i’ll see you soon, i promise.”
you knew he had to work hard today, knew how much analysis he needed to do before the race. he was starting further back than anyone would have liked, and he had something to prove as well, oscar starting too close to the front for lando’s liking. there were places to make up and hard work to be done to get back to the front.
“don’t apologise. i hope it goes smoothly today.” you smiled at him, watching him collect his long forgotten clothes. you were entranced by the way his body moved, the lines and shapes that tensed and rippled as he dressed himself.
“i’ll message you.” he promised, creeping back over to the bed. you weren’t sure what to expect, but the soft kiss to your lips, almost apprehensive on his part, could have killed you off, your heart pounding.
your grinned like a fool when the door shut behind him.
-
the shower was burning hot, loosening up your muscles. you cleaned yourself slowly, examining your body, the same one that you’d given to lando. he’d taken you apart, piece by piece, and put you back together, the traces of him that he’d left behind delectably apparent.
you followed the trail of marks he’d left, starting with the love bite below your right breast that you couldn’t even remember him leaving, making your way to the litter of fingerprints that were tattooed into your hips. your fingertips ghosted over your swollen lips, the kiss that he’d left at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, reminiscing the evening. you seemed to ache everywhere, the dull pain setting into your bones so nicely.
you prayed it would happen again. you felt like it would, everything between you had changed now, changed from any possible return to the norm. you wanted it to change, you couldn’t fathom the idea of staying friends when the lines had blurred like this, when he’d kissed you so deeply, touched you so intimately.
the shower was much needed, refreshing your body that was now tainted by him in the best way. you tried to keep a clear head while you got yourself ready, taking your time to make yourself presentable to the paddock. the time of your departure was looming, the pink and white sunset outside your window indicating that the race was only a few hours away. the air had cooled slightly, and you knew you needed to make your way to the lobby.
your phone dinged in your hand as you were packing your essentials into your bag. you glanced down at the device, unruly smile gracing your face.
see you soon, the text read, an orange love heart punctuating the short but sweet text. it was safe to say that the butterflies in your belly were well and truly alive.
-
the screen beeped as you scanned your paddock pass, and you slipped through the gate, making your way into the paddock. it was beautiful in qatar, they’d outdone themselves with this structure, the glass ceilings and jungle of greenery an expression of wealth and elegance.
you made a beeline for the mclaren garage, greeting lando’s pr officer who smiled warmly at you. you recognised oscar smirking as you appeared in the garage, and as you got closer you realised why.
“nice to see you. looking for lando?” his monotonous voice held an amused twang.
“hey oscar, great job last night!” you said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “yeah, is he around here somewhere?”
“yeah he’s just doing press i think. extra spring in his step today.” oscar gave you a knowing look, one that made you blush.
“what do you know?” you deadpanned, fighting back laughter.
“i know that this was a long time coming.” he smiled, and then he was gone, lost to the bustle of the garage.
you stood there, probably in the way, lost in thought about what oscar had just said. he was right, this was a long time coming.
you jumped a bit when a hand landed on your waist, relaxing instantly into lando’s body when he pressed himself against you, head on your shoulder.
“i’m so glad you’re here.” he whispered, pressing a secret kiss under your ear, and then he, too, was gone, before you could even react.
your nerves were shot, ushered to the back of the garage where you found a headset. you chewed your nails, anxious about it all. the race, the changes that you were surely coming. you wanted it, wanted everything from him that he’d give you, willing to commit to all of it, to him. the distance, borrowed time, chaos of his world. last night had changed everything and you couldn’t have asked for more.
eventually the lights went out and the fight was underway. you found your hands clasped together, sweating in the dry heat and the anxiety. you clapped every time he made an overtake, storming through the field. when he made it into p3, picking the pace up on oscar, the nerves resurged and you prayed for a clean end to this race.
lando’s radio messages flooded your ears, and your leg bounced uncontrollably, your shoe slapping against the floor.
“be sensible, lando.” you muttered under your breath, resting your chin on your tightly clasped hands. he would be on the podium, but you knew it wasn’t enough for him, it never was. would you be enough for him?
eventually he agreed to hold position, thank fuck, and you could breathe again. he’d driven a beautiful recovery drive, bringing the car onto the podium, and you rushed out with the team to congratulate him. you lingered at the back of the pack behind the metal barriers, watching in quiet admiration as he jumped out of the car. he slapped oscar on the back, hugging his younger teammate before bounding towards the team. his head was darting around as if he was looking for something, but you couldn’t make it out with his helmet still on. and then the helmet came off and it became clear.
he was looking for you.
lando pulled away from a hug with a mechanic, leaning over the barrier right in front of you. you gravitated towards him, somehow moving through the swarm of team members until you were pressed against the metal too. he was beaming, eyes brighter than they had been all working weekend, and then his hands were on you. the hug he pulled you into was tight and you clung to one another for a moment, unbothered by his damp race suit, or the tickle of his sweat slicked curls.
the kiss he pressed to your cheek was far less secret than the one in the garage, so was the one he pressed to your forehead, but the one he pressed to your lips, as quick as it may have been, was the one that really took the cake. you were blushing when he pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. you shook your head in disbelief at his boldness, unable to tame your bewildered smile.
“what are you doing for dinner, baby?” he called out to you as he walked away. the podium high had clearly set in.
nothing, you mouthed back, not quite confident enough to shout across parc ferme.
“good, we’re going on a date.” lando winked and then he was gone, pulled into the chaos of post race duties.
tears pricked your eyes when he stood on the podium, a much happier man than the one you found when you’d arrived. you couldn’t put it into words, how one night had changed everything, giving you everything you didn’t realise you wanted.
then again, lando was always good at beating expectations.
-
hehe the end
-
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had to remove some tags that aren’t working! let me know if you wanna be added or removed xo
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povlnfour · 29 days
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ EVERYBODY TALKS (LN4)
pairing: lando norris x f!reader
summary: lando eventually lands the girl of his dreams. he also finds out just how fast news travels
a/n: this was one of my wips i posted foREVER ago so enjoy the full one shot whilst i finish off some written stuff. based on everybody talks by neon trees🙇‍♀️🤍
*faceclaim (but imagine as you see her fit) is millie hannah
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris boo’s birthday
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alex_albon here’s a thought stop calling her your boo and actually make her your boo
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user did anyone else see that comment or am i making things up
user bro just ask her out i swear to god
user last photo is feeling very intimate mr. norris
alex_albon happy birthday y/n/n, please don’t get me super drunk tomorrow
user i saw that last comment mr ur not slick
yourusername no promises albono i intend to do a lot of shots
texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername y/n’s big birthday bash🪩
👤 tagged landonorris, friend1 and 6 others
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landonorris did u run to the bathrooms just to post on instagram
yourusername stfu and order me shots
user is anyone else now thinking about how often y/n probably sees lando shirtless👁️👄👁️
user i’ve been thinking about it since she first posted that photo of him in the gym showing his abs
user @/user TAG ME IN THAT WTF
texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername 💋
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user MA’AM YOU ARE UNBELIEVABLY ATTRACTIVE
lilymhe is that the lip combo i suggested because GIRL IT SUITS YOU
user lando MOVE i want her too
landonorris pretty
landonorris where are you off to?
yourusername meeting that friend i told you about on my bday!
y/n’s texts with lando ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername race days
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maxverstappen1 you’re a jinx. never come again
maxverstappen1 (it was lovely to see you)
yourusername hope you enjoyed your time in the garage🥰🥰
user come to every race you’re good luck
user personally if my best friend was super hot and came to cheer me on looking that good i’d cuff her but maybe lando’s different
yourusername nah he’s just oblivious
landonorris @/yourusername HUH
yourusername @/landonorris i said what i said
tmz just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername responded: yes, literally everyone.
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landonorris lando: 1, friendzone: 0
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user FUCKIN FINALLY.
user @/yourusername i could treat you better
alex_albon you’re not really winning if you’ve been pining over her for two years mate
landonorris shut the fuck up before she sees this
yourusername @/landonorris TWO YEARS??? TWO YEARS AND YOU SAID NOTHING????
user uh oh. lando’s in trouble
————
a/n: this was… weak i apologise im still settling in😭 just wanted to put something out whilst i finish my charles/seb/lando written one shots eek!
as always any reblogs and whatnot appreciated. big love xx
- giselle
taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35 @treehouse-house @iloveyou3000morgan @scopeiguess @amaranthineghost @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers @dark-night-sky-99 @namgification @casperlikej @marshmummy @geniusalpaca
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freedomfireflies · 1 month
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Pillow Talk*
Summary: The one where you and Harry both have insomnia, and decide to spend one very strange night together.
Word Count: 7.2k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, daddy kink, mentions of drugs, angst (w/ happy ending!), not suitable for Ramadan!
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“Oh, absolutely not.”
“Come on. Just one time.”
“No. Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“Probably. I haven’t slept in 32 hours.”
You huff as you hide yourself behind your door. You don’t even want to see him. Because you don’t want to have this conversation or entertain this idiotic idea. This is what Harry does. He plays games. He tricks and he ruins and if you open this door, you know you’ll regret it. 
“Poppy, please,” he calls, and you hear his forehead land on the wood as though to brace himself. “I’ve tried everything else, okay? It always works with you. I just…I wanted to try. See if it still does.”
You frown. “You realize how wildly inappropriate this is, right? Asking if you can come in just so we can sleep together?”
“Yeah, but that’s all I want to do. Sleep,” he insists again. “Really. I’ll keep my hands to myself and I won’t even talk to you.”
You consider this. Truthfully, you haven’t slept all that well since the breakup, either. And sure, you’ve longed for the nights when the two of you would fall into such an easy, simple, and incredibly effective routine. 
But he broke your heart. And now you’re both paying the price.
“Just one night,” he pleads again. “And if it doesn’t work, I swear I won’t bother you ever again.”
There’s a subtle ache in your chest. Just hearing his voice reminds you of the pain. Of the joy. Of every good moment and every bad one, all wrapped up in the same silky cadence.
You take a deep breath. Perhaps you’re curious, too. Even if you don’t want to be. Because maybe this will work. Maybe you’ll finally be able to rest and get on with your life.
Or maybe it won’t.
But at least if it doesn’t, maybe you can find some closure.
So, with that thought…you open the door. 
He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. Which makes you just a touch happy if you’re being honest with yourself. His usual curls are askew and unkept. The bags under his eyes are dark and his clothes are wildly wrinkled.
And you’re surprised. He’s been up for longer than 32 hours before and handled it much better. You wonder if his age is catching up with him or if there’s something else keeping him awake.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
But you don’t fight with him. He’s not here to fight and you accept his terms as you widen the door and allow him to step inside.
He nods gratefully as he slips into your living room, but his eyes linger on your face. Almost like he doesn’t recognize you, and it makes your insides turn as you shut the door and put a few feet between you.
“What?” you huff.
He shakes his head. “I don’t know, you look…different.”
“Okay…?”
“You changed your hair.”
“Yeah.”
“Hm. It’s nice.”
You cross your arms. “Thanks.”
“Sure.”
Another pause, and the silence feels heavy.
“Well…do you wanna…?” you eventually say, and he nods.
“Right, yeah.”
“Okay.”
You turn to lead him to your room and it’s…unsettling how normal it feels. Like an old habit rearing its ugly head once again.
When you get there, his surprise returns. “You changed your room, too.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh. Why?”
Your eyes roll as you angrily toss your blankets back. “This is the one room I associated with you the most. And short of moving, I needed something you hadn’t touched or tainted. So I made the room mine again.”
He thinks about this, attention lingering on the new paint on the walls and the new furniture in each corner. “I like it.”
“I don’t care.”
He smiles. “I know.”
“Great. Can you get in the bed please so we can get this over with?”
Obliging, he slips off his shoes and joins you under the duvet. “Never thought I’d hear you say that again.”
“Never thought I’d have to say it.”
“Mm. You changed your mattress.”
“Obviously.”
“And the sheets and blankets, too.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Is there anything in here you didn’t change?”
“The carpet. But only because my landlord said I couldn’t.”
“Right.” He’s smiling again. “But you did get a rug.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s nice.”
“Bite me.”
He laughs now and you want to smack him. “I see you still get grumpy when you’re tired.”
“No, I get grumpy when my asshole of an ex shows up to my apartment at 3 in the morning demanding to be let in so he can sleep in my bed with me like a fucking child,” you argue. And you know you’re being snippy and maybe even rude, but he deserves it. After everything he’s put you through, you deserve to be in charge of your own emotions. 
You turn the lamp off and the dark room grows incredibly quiet. You’re both stiff, unable to relax when you’re this close. You don’t want to touch—not the way you used to. And you don’t want to be close or let your guard down, although you suppose you’ll have to in order to sleep.
And then he says, “I really did try, you know. To find another way to sleep.”
You look up at the ceiling and release a soft exhale. “Okay.”
“Melatonin, light therapy, cut out coffee. Even drank those…sleep mocktail things everyone talks about.” He shifts. “I don’t know, I guess my brain just wouldn’t turn off.”
“Yeah. I know.”
More quiet.
“I haven’t done any since we broke up,” he finally says. Gentle, like he’s afraid to break the silence. 
Your lashes flutter. He doesn’t have to say it for you to know what he means. “Great.”
“Yeah.” Another beat. “I thought it was work, I guess. Maybe the stress or something. I’ve been sleeping fine, but these past couple weeks…”
“Right.”
“And I just figured—”
“No, I got it. It’s fine, let’s just…let’s just try to sleep,” you say and he nods.
The bedroom settles and you try, you really do. But you can’t when he’s breathing so goddamn loud and shifting every two seconds and sighing like he’s in pain.
“What?” you eventually hiss.
“Are you dating someone?” he asks.
“What?”
“Are you dating someone?” he repeats. “Josie said you were.”
You hesitate. “I don’t know. Kind of. I guess.”
“You guess?”
“We’re…we’ve been on a few dates. It’s not official.”
“He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend?”
“Why does it matter?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t. I just figure you deserve someone that actually wants to date you.”
“Oh, do I?” You roll your head to look at him. “Funny, you didn’t seem to think so when you were dating me.”
“All right, touché,” he mumbles. “I could have been better, I know that. And I know I took advantage. You did a lot for me and I didn’t…I didn’t care.”
Surprised, you twist your fingers together. “Uh…yeah. Right. Thank you.”
His head rolls, too. And even with the dim-light, his eyes find yours. “I’m sorry, Poppy. You really did deserve better than me. And if you found it with this guy…I’ll be happy for you.”
You swallow before sighing to yourself. “I mean, I don’t know if I did. He’s…he’s really nice. But he’s so…he’s just…”
“Vanilla?”
Your eyes widen. “Yeah. How did you—”
“He was wearing Crocs with tube socks.”
You laugh—loud. “Oh my god, how did you know?”
“I might have looked him up,” he admits through a grin. “Wanted to make sure he was worth your time.”
“Yeah? And?”
“And he wears Crocs with tube socks. He can’t make you cum.”
Your features scrunch together as you gasp and look away. “Ew, Harry. It’s not about that—”
“It’s always about that. Come on, am I wrong?”
“You—yes. What he wears has nothing to do with what he’s like in bed—”
“So he’s not vanilla?”
“He’s…” You pause. “He…look, he really tries—”
“So, he is,” Harry finishes for you. “Well, at least you got some.”
“I…yeah. Uh-huh.”
Instantly, he turns onto his side, head resting in the palm of his hand as he studies you. “He couldn’t get it up, could he?”
“Harry,” you groan, and reach out to swat him. “Stop, it wasn’t that. We just…we were taking things slow. We did some stuff. Just not…all of it.”
“So what he’d do?”
“Harry—”
“Come on, we’re adults, just tell me.”
“Ew, no—”
“Listen, you used to get fucked good. I’m just trying to help you get back to that.”
You frown but do oblige. “I don’t know. He ate me out and I blew him. That’s it.”
“And…?”
“And…I don’t know. He was fine. He was good.”
“Sure.”
Your eyes roll. “Okay, he…he wasn’t really all that into it. He stopped after a few seconds and asked if I came. Then he said his jaw was tired and that maybe we should just switch.”
Now, Harry’s features scrunch, too. “Shit. What a fucking pussy. Ironically.”
“I guess. It could have been worse.”
“Really? Eating you out was always my favorite. What kind of asshole just stops if he doesn’t have to?”
You feel a rush of heat through your body as you look away. “I guess they can’t all be you.”
“Damn fucking right,” he scoffs. “Seriously, you still wanted to see him after that?”
“He’s cute,” you argue. “And nice. And yeah, maybe he’s not that adventurous but that’s okay. I don’t need wild sex all the time.”
He’s quiet. “How about just one time?”
You turn back. “What?”
“I—okay, I was just thinking…you know, one of the things we would do when we couldn’t sleep was…fuck, so—”
“Oh, absolutely not.” You sit up, as though to put some distance between you. “No. Forget it—”
“Poppy—”
“Don’t call me that,” you huff. “You don’t get to call me that ever again. Okay, I’m not gonna fuck you just so we can sleep—”
“It wouldn’t be just for that,” he argues, sitting up as well. “It would also help your mood, too—”
“Oh, my mood?” You glare at him. “My mood is just fine, actually. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty good if I agreed to let you in my apartment in the first place—”
“You didn’t have to. I’m just saying, if sex with him is gonna be bland, might as well get in one last good fuck before you commit to a lifetime of boring—”
“Oh, my god. It’s not a lifetime and you’re a fucking asshole—”
“Yeah. We’ve established that. Doesn’t change the fact that you need it.”
You stare at him. “Is that why you’re really here? To trick me into sleeping with you?”
He leans back. “What? No. I don’t trick people into having sex, it was just a suggestion—”
“Yeah, a pretty dumb one. Did you honestly think I’d say yes?”
“Yeah,” he admits haughtily. “Yeah, because we didn’t break up over the sex. We broke up because you’re an uptight—”
“What? Say it,” you sneer. “Say it. I’m an uptight bitch because I wouldn’t let you do cocaine.”
He scoffs again and looks off into the dark of your room. The argument lulls. “I could never do anything right.”
“That wasn’t the problem and you know it.” You pull your legs to your chest. “I wanted to move forward and you kept going back. You’re almost 30 and you still act like you’re 19.”
“Maybe I didn’t want to get married and do the whole white picket fence life,” he says. “Maybe I liked things the way they were—”
“No. No, you liked parties with your friends and doing drugs that kept you up for hours  and getting fired and leaving me to pay all the bills—”
“You didn’t pay all the bills and I told you I would do what I could to help—”
“Yeah. But apparently that included getting fucked up and staying out all night just to crash the next day.” You study him closely. “You were never around anymore. I never saw you. We were on two different paths and the only time we ever talked was when you asked if I wanted to fuck.”
“So, that’s it, huh? I’m just a villain in your story. You were this perfect fucking princess, and I was a monster that ruined your life?”
“No, obviously not. I wasn’t perfect. I know that.”
“Do you?” His eyes flick between yours. “You didn’t want me to move forward with you. You liked your new job and your new friends because they didn’t remind you of me. Of who we both used to be.”
“So? I’m not proud of what I used to do. And sure, maybe I wanted to make a better impression on the people paying my salary and keeping me employed. Is that such a fucking crime?”
“No. But you didn’t want me to be a part of that impression and you know it.”
“Right. Because you were shit-faced all the time.”
He opens his mouth, ready to retort. But then he closes it. He closes it and he stares at you and then…he surges forward.
Even if you were given at least two seconds to prepare, you’re not prepared for the way his hands feel on your cheeks as he kisses you. As he presses his lips to yours and steals the labored breaths in your lungs.
But you don’t fight him. You know you should. Know you should push him off and berate him. Yet you let him kiss you. And you kiss him back. And it’s far too easy to slip back into this routine as his tongue slides against yours in such a teasing way.
Your stomach flips while your hands land on his lap. You’re desperate to be closer, to feel his body against yours. His skin, and the way it melts beneath your palms like butter. You dance this devious dance and before you know it, you’re stripping each other of the few clothes you have.
He starts with your shirt. Ripping it over your head before his mouth lands on your chest. Bare and beautiful to him. His kisses are wet and sloppy and you arch yourself closer as you drag your fingers down his scalp.
The only reason he stops is to let you peel his t-shirt off, too. And then his jeans and socks. And you move so fluidly, you’re nearly naked in under a minute. The only thing left between you now his underwear and yours.
He lays you down, gentle. Surprisingly gentle, given the anger that brought you here. And he gazes at you in a soft, unspoken way that says everything you don’t exactly know how to say. 
His fingers brush down your cheek as his body settles atop yours. He still fits between your legs like he was always meant to and the weight of him almost feels good.
“Are you all right?” he finally whispers, and he doesn’t sound like the same man from before. He sounds like the man you fell in love with. “Is this okay?”
You nod quickly, scared that if you think about it, you’ll ruin it. “Yeah. Go.”
He doesn’t. “We don’t have to,” he says. “You were right, it’s probably a dumb idea—”
“Yeah, but…it always works.” You shift beneath him and reach for his briefs, rolling them down his hips. “And I’m tired. Tired of fighting with you, tired of not getting any sleep…tired of pretending I hate you. You were right, our sex is good. So let’s do it. And then we can sleep. And we can finally move on.”
Not the most romantic of speeches, but it works. At least right now. He kisses you again and drags your underwear aside in order to tease you with the tip of his cock.
He feels like you remember. And maybe you find just a touch of comfort in that. There are no awkward pauses or confusion about what to do next. You don’t have to find your rhythm or anticipate the next step. You know him. And he knows you.
Your rub your clit in order to stimulate yourself. You aren’t exactly wet enough for this to be enjoyable, but you don’t expect him to do what he did before. The foreplay is up to you now and you’re more than all right with that.
However, he’s not. And he instantly swats your hand away in order to do it himself. Allowing his fingers to drag up and down your pussy until you shiver before he slips the tip of his middle finger inside.
“Shit,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours. “Fucking missed this.”
You bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He starts to pump, bending your body to his salacious intentions until the unmistakable sound of wetness echoes throughout the room. “I know you missed it, too.”
“Hm. Don’t push it.”
“Why not?” He presses a kiss to your cheek. Then to your jaw. Your lips. Your nose. Your neck. Everywhere you used to love. “Are you really gonna tell me you didn’t?” 
“Maybe.”
“So Crocs with Tube Socks is better, huh?”
“…not exactly.”
“Right.” He adds a second finger and your eyes roll back. “Don’t worry, Poppy, I’ll fix it.”
“Don’t…call me that,” you pant again, and he chuckles.
“Don’t know what else to call you. You were always my pretty Poppy.”
“But now I’m not,” you say. “Now you call me nothing. Because I’m not yours to call.”
He sighs but does seem to obey, at least for now. And the faster he thrusts his hand, the needier this growing feeling becomes. Stronger and louder until you finally grab onto his shoulders and say, “Just put it in already.”
He smirks. “How romantic.”
“It’s not supposed to be. Just come on.”
So, he does. He takes hold of his cock and he slips it through the gathering arousal until he can push in. And you both reel.
Truthfully, you’ve missed the sounds he makes when he’s turned on. The way he groans and grits his teeth together. The way the muscles in his arms strain until you can see those beautiful veins you used to love to run your tongue over. 
He’s stunning. Even now, in the soft light of the moon through your curtains. His silhouette is unholy as it hovers above you. Strong hips beginning to thrust as you both work in tandem to find release.
And it’s closer than you expected. There’s something about him that can get you there even without much effort. Something Crocs with Tube Socks could never seem to figure out. 
Because he’s not Harry. And only Harry can play you like an instrument and make such symphonic music all with the flick of his finger and a thrust of his cock.
He kisses you again and you both feel anxious. Soft murmurings of praise and, “Keep going,” that have you arching from the bed and moaning into his mouth.
You’re sweating and gasping for air and clutching onto his back as you attempt to meet his rhythm with rolls of your own. You need this. You need to cum so you can find release and you need to cum so you can finally sleep and you need to cum because then you’ll finally be able to let him go. To close the door on the chapter of you and Harry and move the fuck on.
But how can you move on when you’re still under him? How can you insist that you’re fine and doing great if you’re so easily convinced to fuck him just so you can both get some sleep?
There are other remedies to insomnia that don’t involve his cock and maybe you should have tried that before you let him into your apartment. 
Either way, you’re coming before you can think twice about it. Raking your nails down his back and whimpering his name as he pulls out and finishes on your thigh. 
And just like that…
It’s over.
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You find him in the kitchen about an hour later. You managed to sleep at least a few minutes before you felt the sadistic hand of insomnia pull you back out. But when you woke, Harry was gone. His clothes were still on the floor, so you knew he hadn’t left. But he wasn’t with you.
He’s staring out your kitchen window when you slip into the living room. You’re not sure if he hears you or not but if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he keeps himself braced against the sink, clad in nothing more than his briefs.
Curious, you call, “What’s wrong?”
He shakes his head. Silent. Contemplative. “I used to love this window,” he eventually says. Soft, like he’s reminiscing. “The way the light looked in the morning. The way your little crystals would put rainbows on the wall and you’d get so excited. How you’d make me dance with you to some Elton John song while we were literally in the middle of cooking.”
You blink. “Um…okay.”
He turns and his eyes find yours. “I fucking loved this apartment. And this kitchen. And that couch. And your room. And even the hallway. I loved being here, all the time. I hated going back to my place because it never felt the same.”
The silence grows louder now as you look down at your feet and pull your robe just a bit tighter. “I know,” you finally whisper. “That’s why I changed it.”
“I know,” he whispers back. His expression falls. “You changed everything. This apartment, your life…us.”
“Because I had to,” you argue, glancing back up. “I had to, Harry. I couldn’t keep going in circles. I couldn’t drag you along behind me into the future when you clearly wanted to be anywhere else.” 
“Because the future you always painted didn’t seem to have room for me,” he huffs. “Okay, with all these dinner parties and fancy houses and good school districts. You’d planned out the next 30 years and I didn’t see myself anywhere in your picture.”
“I didn’t fucking care about the parties or the school districts,” you nearly yell. “God, I—I didn’t want the white picket fence life. I didn’t want the 1950’s American Dream shit you keep thinking I did. I just wanted you. Yes, I wanted a good job with insurance and stability. But I wasn’t gonna trade what we had just for that—”
“But you did. You didn’t tell your parents we’d moved in together. You didn’t even tell half of our friends. You went on trips without me and you stopped telling me about your day and we never talked—”
“Because you were never around! You were either out with your friends getting drunk or high or you were in there playing video games because you’d had a ‘hard day.’ So, no. I didn’t want to talk to you when I knew you weren’t even listening in the first place.”
 He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. Angry. Indignant. “You resented me. You resented the fact that we were together and you resented that I wasn’t perfect like your precious new friends—”
“Oh, that’s—” You pinch the bridge of your nose and force in a deep breath. “No. I didn’t want you to be like them. I didn’t want you to act pretentious and stuffy and talk about the stock market every goddamn second of the day. The only thing I resented…was the fact that you wouldn’t take care of yourself.”
“I was taking care of myself—”
“Bullshit. You were doing drugs—you were doing cocaine—and you weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping, you nearly drunk yourself to death—”
“Right, but I wasn’t doing it all the time. It was just…it was occasionally, and it wasn’t a lot—”
“I don’t care. You shouldn’t have been doing it at all, Harry,” you finally shout. “You…you scared the shit out of me. Every time one of your friends would call and say you were passed out, I thought…I thought this was it. I thought I was gonna lose you. Do you know how many times I just sat on the floor and cried because I was so scared? Because you never wanted to listen when I told you to stop? Because you were so sure you were invincible?”
He seems pained by this, features wilting as he takes a tentative step forward. But he stops when you move back. “Poppy, I wasn’t trying to scare you, I…I didn’t know—”
“Yes, you did,” you scoff. “I told you, over and over that I didn’t want to lose you, but you thought I was being dramatic.”
He nods once. “I know, I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?”
“Yeah. I am.” He looks at you. “S’why I stopped after we broke up. You were right, I needed to get my shit together.”
You nod, too. “Good. I’m glad.”
His gaze dances around the kitchen. “I hate that you changed everything,” he says again, and your heart wrenches. “I hate that it doesn’t look like it used to. I hate that I hurt you so bad that you felt like you had to erase everything I ever touched.”
You step closer and wipe a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, I hate it, too. I hate that I had to. I hate that stupid mattress and I hate that my kitchen doesn’t look like a rainbow anymore and I really fucking hate that I have no one to dance with when I cook.”
His eyes soften as they find yours and in only a few seconds, he’s reaching for the belt on your robe and tugging you to him. Wrapping you in his arms as he presses you against his chest, the way he always used to when you were sad.
“No,” you argue weakly, although you do nothing to stop him. “No, you can’t…you can’t—”
“Yes, I can,” he retorts quietly. You feel his lips press to the top of your head. “You don’t get to cry over me anymore. You’re better than that now. You did what I couldn’t. You moved on. And I don’t get to ruin that for you.”
You sniffle as you run your hand down his stomach. “It wasn’t about moving on. I just needed to learn how to be strong enough for both of us.”
“Poppy,” he breathes and holds you tighter. “You shouldn’t have to be.”
And deep down…you know he’s right.
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“Shit, just like that…a little closer. Good girl, hold yourself open for me, baby. Yeah.”
Doing your best to oblige, you slip your fingers between your folds as Harry nudges his nose closer. Kissing his way along your thighs before allowing his tongue to lick a very generous stripe up your pussy.
Round 2 is on the couch. Harry wanted the kitchen counter—nearly insisted on it, in fact—but you knew you didn’t want to ruin your favorite breakfast spot. And you weren’t about to just for him.
So, the couch it was. He complained about it as you got settled. He hates this new couch, too. The color, the lumpy cushions, the way it feels like you’re sinking when you sit. 
You told him you didn’t care. You loved it and if it annoyed him, that was a bonus.
Thankfully, he swallowed his complaints in favor of swallowing you. He tossed your robe open and pulled your thighs apart. And then he buried himself between the warmth of your pussy the way he always used to.
And you decided that maybe you don’t mind insomnia so much if this is the remedy.
“Missed this, too,” he says now as he nips at your clit. “God, you’ve always tasted so fucking good. S’fucking crazy, baby. Can’t ever get enough.”
“Sure,” you snort, head dropping back. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls—”
“No.” He shakes his head and his nose nudges the sensitive nerves as you whine. “No, there’s no other girls. Come on, did you really think there could be?”
“With a mouth like that? Yeah,” you admit. He laughs. “That’s how we met. You were such—fuck—such a player.”
“Maybe,” he concedes before mouthing at you again. “But nobody else has ever made me feel the way you do.”
You snort. “Where’d you learn that line?”
“It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”
“Harry. Come on. I know you.”
“Then you should know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He smooths his palms down your thighs in order to spread you just a bit further and see the way your hole flutters. “Oh, pretty girl. S’just drenched, hm? All sensitive from the last one…need Daddy to make it better?”
You scrunch your nose. “You don’t get to call yourself that anymore.”
“No?” He grins. “Why not?”
“Because I hate you and Daddy is reserved for someone I like.”
He tsks. “I don’t know, kind of seems like you still like it. Keep clenching around my tongue like you wanna hear me say it again.”
You hesitate as you weave your fingers through his curls. “Never.”
He hums and the vibration against your cunt makes your thighs twitch. “Come on, baby. Don’t be mean to Daddy.”
You want to glare. Slap at him, refuse him. But he’s right—you have missed the moniker. If only just because of how good he sounds when he says it. So, you let him tease you and taunt you as he tastes you. You let him do whatever the hell he wants because your second orgasm feels stronger than the first and you don’t imagine you’ll survive this one. 
He slips a finger in as well. Beckons your pleasure closer with every curl of the large digit. It’s practiced. He sucks and licks and nips and thrusts and curls and pumps all at the same time.
Then, he pulls back and brings his palm down in a sharp smack to your pussy. 
“Stop squirming,” he instructs, then shoots you an obviously pleased frown. “Don’t be a brat.”
“M’not,” you whimper. “Not a brat…just wanna cum.”
“Do you, hm?” He licks you again then adds two fingers. “Should I let you?”
“Obviously.”
“Obviously?” He’s smirking now as he starts to go faster. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do deserve it. Yeah? After being so nice as to let me in.”
You pout. “Mhm.”
He’s so happy. He’s always his happiest when he’s suffocating himself with your pussy. He does everything he knows you love. He leaves teasing kisses to the inside of your thighs. He slaps at your leg, your clit, your hip. He helps rock you against his tongue and even lifts you from the couch to find a deeper angle. 
And he does all of this out of sheer enjoyment. 
“Harry,” you whimper as you melt into the cushions. Your limbs feel like jello. The pleasure is everywhere, and he looks like a god. His face is covered in you, glistening about as bright as the stars.
“I know, Poppy,” he says. He kisses your pussy and then smiles at you. “I know.”
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You like the way Harry’s chest feels. Warm and soft and painted in the tattoos you used to trace with your finger.
He’s gently scratching your back as you both lay in bed. The room is quiet—you haven’t spoken in minutes. Still, neither of you can seem to find sleep and you know you’ll desperately need it soon. 
But this is nice. Even if it is the last time. You like getting to reminisce—pretend for even a moment that things are the way they used to be. When you were happy and safe and content to be together.
You weren’t sure you’d ever feel this kind of peace again.
“I missed you, too, you know,” he whispers after a moment.
You glance up. 
“I didn’t just miss your apartment. I missed you.” He takes a breath and runs his palm along your spine. “I miss our Sunday mornings and I miss when we’d watch scary movies just so we could make out and I miss the way you used to dance around in your underwear to some stupid musical you were obsessed with.”
You swallow a lump in your throat. “Har…”
“And I don’t know what happened,” he says. “I felt like…I felt like I was watching you do all these amazing things and I just couldn’t keep up. You were getting promoted and moving up and I was still at the fucking bar serving drinks. And you knew what you wanted to do. I didn’t.”
“I didn’t know,” you argue gently. “Not really. I hate my job. I hate that I don’t enjoy it the way I used to. I mean, I like that it pays the bills, but maybe that shouldn’t be enough.”
He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “You should do what makes you happy.”
“You used to make me happy.”
The soft strokes against your spine slow. 
“You did, Har,” you tell him. “So happy. That’s why I hated that we started fighting all of the time. I hated that you were gone or that I was gone or the fact that I was too ashamed to tell you that I missed you. And that I was scared we were losing each other.”
“Maybe we needed to lose each other,” he says and you feel sick. “Maybe we needed to be apart to see what we really wanted.”
You think about this. The idea sounds nice. Inviting. A happy end to a rather dreadful story.
But you both know better. Five months has taught you better.
“There’s a reason we broke up,” you finally murmur. “We didn’t…we didn’t like each other anymore. We were holding each other back—”
“I liked you,” he says softly. “I loved you. Yeah, I was mad, but I didn’t just stop loving you.” 
“Maybe you should have. Maybe it would have been easier for us and we wouldn’t be…here.”
More silence. It stretches for what feels like hours.
And then, “I can’t sleep because of you.”
You suck in a quiet breath. “What?”
“When Josie told me that you were seeing someone, I couldn’t…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And she showed me a picture she took of you guys and you were so happy. Smiling at him like you used to smile at me and I just…I didn’t know what to do.”
Another pause. You don’t know what to say.
“I put my fist through a wall,” he tells you. “And somehow, that still didn’t hurt as much as knowing you’d moved on.”
You snake your arm around his middle and snuggle closer. “Harry, you knew we both had to move on eventually.”
“Did we?”
“Harry…”
“But so soon? It’s only been five months.”
“Yeah. Five months to grieve you and cry over you and realize I did this for you.” You close your eyes. Tight. “We’re better people now.”
“No, we’re tired people now,” he teases, and you smile. “And I think I’ll be losing sleep over you for the rest of my life.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I mean it. I’m always gonna think about you. Think about what I did wrong. What I could have done better.”
“I fucked up, too,” you argue. “I should have told my parents. And our friends. I should have talked to you more, asked you to do more things together. You’re right, I was ashamed of you. Of this…routine we’d fallen into. And I’m sorry.”
He says nothing. After all, there’s nothing more to say.
But he kisses the crown of your head and it speaks louder than any words.
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“Fuck…fuck, Poppy, please—”
You grin as you lick your lips. He’s always sounded the most beautiful when he’s begging. And his best begging always tends to happen when his cock is down your throat. 
“What, Daddy?” you ask innocently. “What do you need me to do?”
His eyes roll back and he grips the sheets in his fist. “Please…”
You reposition yourself over his legs as you dip back down to have another taste. You lick and you suck and you stroke until he’s making another strained noise that sounds like sex.
You hope your neighbors can hear. You bet they missed him.
“Good boy,” you purr, squeezing his thighs as you take him even further. 
He sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth before his hand finds your hair and he squeezes. “Easy…easy, baby. S’been a while. Don’t hurt yourself—”
You respond to his instruction by inhaling through your nose and relaxing the muscles in your throat. Allowing him to hit the back the way he always used to.
His head drops into the pillows. “Shit—Poppy, I mean it. M’not gonna fuck your throat. It’s gonna hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”
It’s an oddly thoughtful gesture but it does nothing for you now. Instead, you shake your head and pull off, a string of saliva dripping down his cock in your wake. “I’m fine, H. Trust me, I can take it.”
“Yeah?” He pushes up onto his elbows. “Is Crocs with Tube Socks hung or something?”
You grin. “No. But that dildo you got me last year is.”
He blinks. “You…fucking hell, you fuck your throat with that?”
“Mhm.” You swirl your tongue around his tip as he curses. “And then I fuck myself. And I pretend it’s you.”
He tightens his hold on your hair and forces your eyes back to his. “Are you serious?”
You nod, now feeling a touch shy as you wipe your mouth with your knuckles. “Yeah…I know that’s…probably weird, but…I mean, you got it for me, so I thought I’d be weirder to think about someone else—”
“No, it’s…” He stops. Struggles. “Shit, I really needed to hear that.”
“Oh, you did, huh?” 
“Yeah. I wouldn’t want you to think about anyone else when you used it, either. It’s got my fucking initials on it.”
You laugh, louder than you mean to and it makes him grin. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? It was a pretty good gift, I’ll admit.”
“S’a fucking perfect gift,” he retorts. “We had a lot of fun with that dildo.”
“We did indeed.”
“But apparently not as much fun as you’re having with it.”
“Fucking myself helps me sleep,” you remind him. “So sometimes it’s necessity.”
“Is that right?” 
“Mhm.” You squeeze the base and he twitches. “You used to watch me. Remember?”
“I do.” His eyes get darker. “Do you fuck yourself a lot?”
“…these days, yeah. Apparently, I can’t sleep all that well, either.”
“And does it work?”
“Most of the time, yeah.” You turn your attention back to his cock in order to avoid his curiosity before you quietly admit, “Sometimes I pretend you’re here. Sleeping next to me. And…that helps, too.”
He reaches for your wrist and pulls your attention back. “Poppy—”
“No, don’t look at me like that, it’s dumb—”
“I imagine you, too.”
You blink. “You do?”
“Every night. Except the past couple weeks. Cause now I just think about you and him. And then I can’t fucking sleep.”
You turn your hand so your fingers brush through his. “Shit. We’re a mess.”
He smiles. “Yeah.”
The conversation falls away as you dip back down to resume your work. Squeezing his balls, moaning as you take him on your tongue, and milking him for every last drop. 
Turns out, you missed the taste of him, too.
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Morning comes before either of you find a moment of rest. But you can feel yourself growing tired. Your eyelids are beginning to droop, and your body feels incredibly spent. 
Turns out, round 4 is where the magic happened. He brought out your favorite vibrator and teased your poor, swollen clit with it until you squirted. It was easy and quick and he seemed rather delighted to be bathed in you.
Until, of course, you insist on an actual bath to clean you both.
The shower felt good. The warm water washing away the sticky sweat on your skin. And the two of you fell back into a similar routine. He ran the soap down your arms and you washed his curls with your favorite shampoo. A shampoo he claimed he looked everywhere for after you broke up but could never find.
He said he missed the smell. The way it made his hair so soft. And the way it would make his pillowcase smell just like you.
You were grateful that the shower hid your tears.
You both crashed on the couch after you had dried off. The sheets still needed to be cleaned and neither of you could be bothered. But, as it turned out, the couch was growing on him. And he begrudgingly admitted it was rather comfy as the two of you curled up in your usual spot. 
You know you’re both close to sleep. Finally, after all your efforts to get here. But you also know that once you wake up, Harry will leave. 
And there’s a chance you won’t see him again.
You know that nothing has changed. The two of you still want different things, even if you want each other. And you hate that that’s not enough. That what you want and what you should want don’t align.
Instead, he’ll move on with his life and you’ll move on with yours.
But you don’t want to learn how to fall asleep without him.
“Make me a deal,” you whisper.
He hums. Lashes shut tight as the morning light slips in through the window. “What?”
“If I wake up, and you’re still here…we do this again. Not…as a couple. But as two broken humans that find rest with each other.”
His eyes open.
“But if you’re gone,” you continue, “then we don’t. We don’t do it again, we don’t see each other again, we don’t reach out again. We cut ties. Officially. Block and move on. For real.”
He seems saddened by this, and you hate that you’ve made him sad. But you both know it’s for the best. This won’t be sustainable in the long run. And maybe it’s a bad idea to continue at all, but maybe you want to hold on to him anyway. At least for a little while.
Even if it’s just as friends.
Exes.
Two broken humans that used to make each other whole.
His lips press together and he nods once. “Deal,” he agrees, and you can tell by the look on his face, he’s already made a decision.
You aren’t sure which way, but you suppose you’ll find out soon enough. So, you allow your eyes to fall shut and your dreams to take hold. Melting into his arms and into the sofa as you finally find sleep quicker than you have in months.
You’re not sure how long you’re out. It feels like hours. A heavy slumber that leaves you rather refreshed as your eyes eventually flutter open. 
You don’t see Harry as you slowly adjust to your surroundings. And you don’t feel him, either. But you’re too afraid to really look. To sit up and realize that he’s gone. For good.
And then, just when you think you’ve lost him…you hear the most beautiful sound in the world.
“Good morning, Poppy.”
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Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry
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augustinewrites · 8 months
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“pleeeease, shoko? as my best friend–”
“hold on,” shoko sputters, choking on her drink. “who said i was your best friend?”
“do you think i’d pay for lunch if you weren’t?”
the woman sets down her chopsticks, sending him an unimpressed look. “that’s what this is for? to bribe me into being your best friend so i can tell my actual best friend to go out with you?”
satoru leans forward in his seat, grinning from ear to ear. “i’m not asking you to tell anyone anything. i’m just saying, plant a few seeds here and there. maybe mention how devastated i was to get friend-zoned and that i’m way too hot to be strictly friendship material.”
“that’s way too unbelievable, coming from me. maybe you should ask nanami…”
“no, it has to be you. you think anyone would believe nanamin if he said i was a total smokeshow?” he asks, shaking his head.
“well, no one would believe him because it’s not true.”
“you’re being mean,” satoru pouts. “you’re supposed to be my best friend–”
“friendship isn’t how you’ll get me to do your bidding,” shoko interrupts. “i like whiskey.”
_____
“this is really good,” you hum in approval as you take another sip. it’s smooth, sweet, and strong. much better than any whiskey you and shoko have shared before. “how on earth did you afford this?”
“a friend bought a few bottles for me,” she waves off, settling herself into the opposite end of her couch. “so…how was your date on saturday? with that guy from the kyoto school?”
“it was okay. but i don’t think i’ll see him again,” you tell her honestly. “he just wasn’t…” 
“wasn’t gojo?” 
“what?” you ask. the idea that you didn’t enjoy your last date because he wasn’t gojo was downright ridiculous, but the quickened beat of your heart is trying to tell you otherwise. “why would you– you think i like gojo?” 
satoru gojo, whose second job seemed to be roping you into his nonsense back in your school days (and taking the fall when yaga eventually caught you). who showed off during missions and always yelled for you to watch (he has a small scar on his cheek from a failed infinity barrier projection). who now routinely showed up to your apartment uninvited to watch a film with you (and always left with a few rolls of your toilet paper).
“you don’t have to like him,” your best friend says, pulling you out of your thoughts. “you just have to sit on him.”
“ieiri!” you shout, horrified. “we’re friends. friends don’t sleep with friends.”
“what? i slept with him once - in a moment of complete weakness - and we’re still friends.”
“but now you no longer sleep with men,” you point out. 
she seems taken aback by that for a moment, but eventually shrugs it off. “true, but it’s different for you guys.”
“how?”
shoko fills the bottom of her glass with a heavy pour. “because he’s actually in love with you. he may be stupid and annoying, but maybe he does the things he does around you because he likes making you laugh, even if it’s at him.”
_____
satoru stumbles backwards into the wall, using his grip on your waist to pull you flush against him. you’d barged into his apartment, ignoring his questions and immediately pulling him in for a kiss.
“i thought–” he tries to get out between kisses. “–you didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”
you draw back to look at him, smiling. “i have other friends.”
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rxdidz · 8 months
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hiii 🙈 can i req zoro getting into a fight over reader? either someone said something about her/flirted with he, doesn’t matter. thank uuu i love your work <3
˖ ݁ ˓ — he gets in a fight
ft. zoro roronoa
a/n : thank u ahhhh 😽😽 this was cute to write
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he groaned as you dabbed the alcohol-soaked cotton ball onto his forehead, “that hurt.”
“well you should’ve thought about that before getting into a fight, he was only saying that to get on your nerves.” you stated, reaching behind him to grab more supplies.
“what was i supposed to do y/n?” he sighed.
“don’t punch the dude! we were supposed to be—”
“he said things about you once you left.. it was a pussy thing to do.” he muttered, you let out a frustrated huff. “i know, thank you for defending me, but i don’t care about what other people say about me.”
he gritted his teeth at the sudden pain “plus, we were supposed to have fun tonight. there was no fighting! but you let that guy ruin it.” you stopped to look at his reaction for a moment.
“y/n.” he pauses. “i’d do anything for you. even if it means fighting some guy, i’ve fought worse than him” he laughs but your still serious.
“c’mon, im sorry.” he sounds desperate. your breath hitches, you don’t know what to say because you want to be mad at him but how could you be? he was so caring.
“thank you. all better.” you smile at him before sitting beside him and leaning your head on his shoulder.
a comfortable silence fills the room, he eventually leans his on yours and you can hear the rest of the crew on the top of the deck. your thoughts wander. “zoro?”
“yeah?” he meets your gaze. “what did he look like?” you question, a small grin spreading across your face. even if you were upset about it, you knew he won.
he chuckled at the look on your face, “worse than me, he definitely has something broken.” your jaw drops and you playfully slap him. “zoro roronoa! are you kidding?”
“hey, i did what i had to do.” he shrugs. “and you only got hit in the face?” you question.
“well..” he repositions himself so he’s facing you more, “the one on my lip really hurts.”
you smile, “really?”
“yes, i think a kiss will help it.” he glances at your lips before his hand cups your cheek, finally closing the distance between you two. your lips meet an you close your eyes, leaning into him. one of his hands slid down to your waist to hold you even closer to him, feeling the warmth of each other.
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risestarkiss · 3 months
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The “Ba” in “Baja”
Rise Ramblings #628
Mikey and Leo. Baja Blast. The Tide Pod Duo. Although this duo has limited dedicated screen time, they are an absolute joy to watch. First and foremost, you can’t help but notice how Leo does nothing but try to protect the little bean.
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He’ll bend over backwards just to keep his baby brother safe.
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Leo will also offer emotional support in very dire times.
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It’s just so nice to see them together. Plus, you can tell that Leo loves Mikey to pieces.
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Even when Leo’s being annoying.
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All of these traits are expected from big brother Leo. However, it’s the other side of this relationship that I find intriguing.
Let’s discuss Mikey and how he interacts with the blue one.
I’ve summarized my thoughts about Mikey’s half of their relationship into two parts: “Emulate” & “Outdo.”
As the youngest of the four, it’s natural for Michelangelo to look up to his older brothers. Yet, throughout the show, I believe that Mikey seems to emulate Leo the most.
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This thought leads directly into the “Outdo” portion of my hypothesis.
I've noticed that a competitive streak emerges in Mikey when Leo is in the picture, a streak that I cannot say I’ve seen him express with any of his other brothers, April, or even their rivals. It’s unique just to Leo.
It’s almost as if there is some driving force within Mikey that wants to prove something to Leon.
When it comes to Leo, Mikey is suddenly determined to see who’s the strongest, best, or fastest between them.
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(I compiled all of the Air Hockey scenes from the episode, “Mrs. Cuddles”)
The most compelling aspect of their relationship is that this competitive streak seems to be one-sided, at least initially. It's almost as if Leo feels like he doesn't have to prove anything to Angelo.
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Eventually, though, Mikey goads Leo into competing with him, and Leo gives in if not but to defend his title, satiate Orange, and give his antagonizer what he’s looking for. (It’s a “you mess with the bull, you get the horns” type of thing.)
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Why does this dynamic exist? Who’s to say. But I believe that the dissonance between these two comes from Leo seeing their relationship as “Protector – Protectee” while Mikey sees Leo as a rival, or more specifically, Leo is the goalpost that Michelangelo has tasked himself with surpassing.
In my opinion, the concept of Mikey seeing Leo’s accomplishments as something he needs to “Emulate” & “Outdo” is a compliment in it’s simplest form. Mikey thinks that Leo is so great and awesome that he wants to be just as awesome, and even better than the brother he respects and looks up to so much.
…Or maybe Mikey just wants to knock Leo down a peg or two.
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I can’t say that I’d blame him.
Also, do you know why Mikey is the “Ba” in “Baja?”
Because Leo is the "Jajajajajajaja" *laughs in Spanish*
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All right. I’m done.
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deargojou · 3 months
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╔══ஓ๑ 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 ๑ஓ══╗
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∷ 𝙿𝙰𝙸𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 ⋯ Gojo Satoru x F!Reader
∷ 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝚃 ⋯ 2.2K // Fluff. Pet names (baby + angel).
∷ 𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚈 ⋯ He proposed to you in his dream, and when he wakes up, you’re officially his—to his confusion and delight.
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Gojo slowly blinked open his eyes, gradually emerging from the haze of sleep. He became aware of the warm weight pressed against his side and looked down to see you nestled close, head pillowed on his chest as you continued to slumber. A small, content smile pulled at his lips and he brushed his fingers through your hair, careful not to wake you.
As he admired you in repose, he noticed your hand resting over his heart, fingers loosely curled. The morning sunlight streaming in through the curtains caught on something shiny adorning your ring finger—a delicate band topped with a sparkling gemstone.
His brow furrowed slightly. He didn’t remember proposing, yet here you were wearing what could only be an engagement ring. Carefully, trying not to wake you, he lifted your hand to get a better look at the ring. It was a simple but elegant diamond solitaire on a silver band.
Definitely an engagement ring.
Gojo racked his brain, but he couldn’t recall buying it or asking you to marry him.
A feeling of panic started rising within him. How could he have proposed and not remember it? That didn’t make any sense.
He loved you more than anything, of course, he wanted to marry you someday. But he would never forget something so important.
He glanced back down at your sleeping face, now feeling utterly confused. Where did this ring come from? Did you somehow found out about the ring he hid and decided to just wear it? Or was this some kind of prank? None of the possibilities made sense.
Still puzzled, he sighed and softly set your hand back down and pressed a light kiss to your forehead before carefully extracting himself from your embrace.
You mumbled in your sleep and clutched at the spot he had vacated, making him smile fondly. He tucked the blankets more snugly around you before quietly slipping out of the bedroom.
In the kitchen, Gojo busied himself making tea with tons of sugar cubes and breakfast, all the while turning over the mystery of the ring in his mind. The sizzling of smoked beef and the aroma of fresh tea eventually lured you from bed.
You padded into the kitchen dressed in one of his t-shirts and wrapped your arms around him from behind. “Morning,” you murmured, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.
He turned in your embrace and noted the ring still prominently displayed on your finger. “Morning. Sleep well?”
You nodded and smiled up at him. “Like a rock. You?”
“Just fine.” He caresses your cheeks, letting his fingers trail along your jaw. “I couldn’t help but notice your ring this morning.”
“Huh?”
“Where did you get that ring?” he asked.
Your brow furrowed. “What ring?”
Gojo lifted your hand, displaying the diamond ring for you to see.
“Oh…” you finally realize what he’s talking about, softening your eyes as you gaze at the ring. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It certainly is. Now, would you mind reminding me when I gave it to you? My memory is a little fuzzy on the details.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “You mean… you don’t remember proposing to me?”
He shook his head apologetically and laughed somewhat nervously. “I wish I could say I did. I think I’d remember proposing to you.”
You just stare him for a long moment before you dropped your gaze. “I see,” you said quietly.
Immediately, Gojo tilted your chin back up with a knuckle under your jaw. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, baby. I just… I want to remember something as important as asking you to marry me, and it’s bothering me that I can’t.” He caresses your cheek ever so gently. “Talk to me. Help me fill in the blanks?”
You stare down at the glittering diamond on your finger, a slight pang in your chest at the realization that he doesn’t remember proposing to you. You take a deep breath and offer him a comforting smile.
“It’s okay that you don’t remember,” you say gently. “I know you’ve been so busy with work lately. Honestly, I’m just happy you found a chance to surprise me at all.”
You reach to squeeze his hand, hoping your understanding will reassure him. You know Gojo loves you deeply, his forgetfulness doesn’t change that. Still, you had hoped the moment he asked you to be his wife would be seared into his mind just as indelibly as it is in yours.
Gojo frowns, clearly bothered. “I’m so sorry, baby. I wish I could recall every detail. Asking you to marry me should be the most unforgettable moment of my life.” He brings your hand to his lips, brushing a feather-light kiss over the ring. “You deserve to have a fiancé who cherishes that memory as much as you do.”
You shake your head, touched by his remorse. “You do cherish me, even if the specifics slipped your mind this time. It’s really okay.” You squeeze his hand again. “Now, tell me more about this lovely ring. Did you pick it out yourself?”
You try to steer the conversation to lighter topics, but Gojo remains preoccupied. As you chat over breakfast, his responses are distracted, his gaze drifting frequently to the ring that has become a symbol of his perceived failure.
Later, as you clean up the breakfast dishes, he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m taking you out again tonight to recreate our engagement, exactly as it should be remembered,” he murmurs. “I won’t rest until I’ve made this right.”
You turn in his arms and cup his face in your hands. “Satoru, please don’t beat yourself up over this. I already told you, it’s okay.” You search his eyes, trying to convey your sincerity.
He covers your hands with his own and turns his head to kiss your palm. "It’s not okay with me," he says seriously. “You deserve the proposal you’ve always imagined. I want to replace this memory with one we can both cherish.”
“It’s okay, love. Really. You must have been tired when you—” and he doesn’t let you finish your word.
“No excuses,” he interrupts. “Let me make it up to you today.”
Seeing how important this is to him, you nod reluctantly. “Alright. If it will make you feel better.”
His expression softens. “It will. Trust me.” He kisses you tenderly then sends you off to pamper yourself while he makes plans.
Before you can protest, Gojo whisks you back to bed, insisting you relax while he pampers you all day. He brings breakfast on a silver tray—pancakes drizzled in syrup, mixed berries, and sweet tea.
Wrapping you in a plush robe, Gojo ushers you to the room, where he’s arranged for a massage therapist, manicurist, and hairstylist to spend the afternoon primping and relaxing you. Once you’re thoroughly pampered, Gojo presents you with a gift box.
“Just a little something to complement your existing beauty,” Gojo murmurs.
You start to protest the extravagance, but Gojo silences you with a kiss. “No complaints, let me spoil you today.”
He also takes you shopping and encourages you to pick out anything your heart desires, no matter the price.
At dinner, take you to the most exclusive 5-star restaurant in town. The maître d’ promptly escorts you to the best table, overlooking the cityscape.
He orders a bottle of non-alcoholic champagne (since he can’t drink), and you dine on lobster, filet mignon, and decadent desserts. He insists on hand-feeding you chocolate-dipped strawberries, stealing occasional kisses between bites.
Over dessert, he presents you with a beautiful new silver bracelet to complement your ring. He promised again that he would re-propose soon with a memory to cherish.
“You are too much sometimes. How could I repay you?” you sigh, basking in his treatment.
“Just you by my side is more than enough. Oh, maybe some late-night stress release would be nice,” he bites his lower lip with a playful wink.
After a romantic dinner, Gojo takes you back to the beautiful park fountain where he first asked you out. Under the shimmering lights, he drops gracefully to one knee and pours out his heart, confessing his unwavering love and asking you once more for the honor of becoming his wife.
“My beautiful angel, will you do me the extraordinary honor of becoming my wife? I promise to love, cherish, and adore you every moment of every day for the rest of our lives. What do you say, baby?”
Without wasting a second, you answered. The delight on your face when you say yes again makes his heart swell.
This time as he slips the ring onto your finger, unfallen tears make his eyes glossy. He remembers vividly selecting the perfect diamond, picturing how it would look adorning your hand.
He stands and gathers you into his arms. “Thank you for giving me a second chance to get this right,” he murmurs against your hair. “I’ll never forget a single moment of this night for as long as I live.”
You cling to him, your own eyes misty. “I know you won’t,” you whisper.
Gojo tilts your chin up to meet your gaze. “You’re so beautiful, baby… I love you."
He seals that promise with a long, deep kiss under the glow of the fountain, leaving you both breathless.
Once you both pull away, you smile up at him, but then begin to giggle. He looks at you in confusion as your giggles grow into full laughter.
“What’s so funny?” he asks with a perplexed smile.
You take a moment to compose yourself before answering, amusement dancing in your eyes. “The truth is, you didn’t actually forget our proposal.”
“Huh?” He looked more confused than ever. “What do you mean?” he holds your face firmly like he’s searching for an answer behind your laughter.
“You did it in your sleep!”
His eyes widened in surprise. “What? I sleep proposed to you?”
You grin and nod, taking his hands in yours. “Yes! That night, you suddenly shook me awake in bed. Your eyes were closed but you took my hand and started rambling this utterly romantic speech about how much you loved me and wanted us to be together forever. Then you pressed the ring box into my palm and mumbled something adorable like ‘Be mine always?’”
You have to pause as another fit of giggles takes over while he just stares at you, dumbfounded.
“Naturally, I said yes,” you continue, “because awake or asleep, I’ll always accept your proposal. You slipped the ring onto my finger, gave me a sweet kiss, and then promptly rolled over and started snoring!”
Now you’re laughing so hard there are tears in your eyes. Gojo remains frozen for a beat before breaking into laughter too.
“I proposed to you in my sleep? And have no memory of it at all?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Well, that certainly explains my confusion this morning.”
You nod, still grinning. “I realized you must have done it in your sleep, but I didn’t want to say anything at first. I thought your dramatic distress over forgetting was too adorable!”
You dissolve into giggles again. Gojo chuckles and pulls you into his arms. “You find my suffering amusing, do you? You act all sad and pouty when in reality you knew about this?” He tickles your sides playfully, making you squeal.
“How was it being spoiled, hmm?” He showers your face with kisses as he tickles your side. He said that as if he doesn’t spoil you often already.
When your laughter finally subsides, Gojo gazes at you tenderly and brushes a tear from your cheek. “I’m glad one of us will remember the actual proposal, even if I was unconscious about it.”
He pauses before speaking again, “Though now I’m wondering if I should redo it a third time?”
You smile and wrap your arms around his neck. “I think twice is enough, don’t you think? Or do you just want another excuse to propose to me?”
You lean in and kiss him sweetly. Gojo hums against your lips. “You’re right as always. I wouldn’t change a thing about how we got here.”
He holds you close, admiring the ring on your finger. “Well, we’re now officially engaged to be married. That’s all that matters.”
You snuggle into his embrace, heart overflowing with love. “So, tell me, what were you dreaming that night when you proposed to me,” you ask with a giggle, finding the situation weirdly funny.
“Oh!” His eyes widened. “That must have been some dream I had.” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I guess my subconscious wanted to make our engagement official before my conscious mind caught up.”
You laugh and hug him tighter. “Clearly your heart knew what it wanted even if your brain didn’t yet.” You pause. “But what made you decide to propose in your dream? We’ve never really talked about marriage.”
Gojo wraps his arms around you. “Honestly? We were on a romantic getaway in my dream. We’d spent the whole day exploring together and I was just overwhelmed by how perfectly happy I felt with you.”
He smiles softly, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I looked over at you watching the sunset, and it just hit me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, making you this happy. I realized at that moment that I couldn’t imagine a future without you as my wife. So dream-me proposed on the spot.”
Your smile at his tender words. You cup his face and kiss him again. “Well, I’m thankful for the dream-you were brave enough to ask before real-you.” You grin playfully and chuckle. “Yeah, you might as well be begging dream-me to re-propose in your sleep.”
You snuggle closer. “Maybe we should just let our dream-selves get married too, so both versions of us can be happy.”
He hums thoughtfully. “Not a bad idea. We could have a double ceremony. One dream wedding and one awake.”
“And I can’t wait to spend forever with you, whether you’re awake or asleep when you ask.”
Gojo laughs and kisses the top of your head. “I promise I’ll stay conscious for the actual wedding ceremony,” he teases.
“We’ll see. Maybe sleepwalking Satoru will surprise me again.”
As he gazes into your eyes, his expression becomes serious. “Mmm, marrying you for real is my dream come true. I can’t wait to call you my wife.”
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f1goat · 2 months
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more than friends ; lando norris + part four
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In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.
masterlist - playlist
fem!y/n x lando norris
warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.
requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things
a/n: this is a rewritten story, you can find the explanation on my profile
part one / part two / part three
“Lan,” you shyly start your sentence, “when erm, when are we going to have sex?” You continue your question. You feel your cheeks reddening while asking your friend that question. Lando almost drops his phone when he hears your question. He sends you a confused look. 
“What’s with the hurry?” He asks you with the same confused tone in his voice. 
You let out a nervous laugh. “This is going to sound really stupid,” you confess, “but there’s this guy who asked me on a date.” 
“So?” Lando asks. He already feels his jealousy coming up. Someone asked you on a date? He wonders who asked you and if you said yes to the guy. Maybe Max was right and he should just ask you on a date himself. Maybe that would stop this mess.
“I kinda want to say yes,” you tell Lando nervously, “but I want to wait for when I’m not a virgin anymore.” Lando shoots you another confused look, he doesn’t get why that would help with the date. “I uh, think it’s better for my confidence,” you explain. You don’t mention that you want to make sure that Lando is the one who takes your virginity. 
Lando stays silent for a couple minutes. He thinks about how he can handle this properly. His first choice would be to let you stall the date for like forever, but he knows that will only bite him in the ass. “How long can you stall him?” Lando asks you eventually. When you keep your silence to think, Lando adds a few more words. “I don’t think it’s smart to rush this,” he explains himself.
“I already told him that I’d be away for three weeks,” you reply, “so at least that time. And maybe I can add another week when we’re back, blaming it on a jet lag or something.”
Lando feels a bit more relieved. Three or four weeks. A lot can change in that time, right? Maybe he will finally find the confidence to tell you about his feelings for you. Maybe not. Probably not, now that he thinks of it. He has this feelings for you since forever and all those years weren’t enough for him to gain the confidence to tell you… He lets out a soft sigh, he needs to think of a plan. 
“That’ll work I guess,” Lando says eventually.
“So what’s next?” You ask Lando, “I feel like there’s so much you still have to teach me.”
“Relax babygirl,” Lando says, “I think we first need to focus on how I’m going to pack my suitcase with stuff for three weeks in only an hour.” 
“You didn’t pack yet?” You ask Lando, “We’re leaving in an hour!”
“Oops?” Lando laughs. 
You let out a sigh. It doesn’t even surprise you that Lando didn’t pack yet. “You never change,” you tell Lando with a small smile on your face. Then you stand up to help Lando pack his stuff, just like you always do. It doesn’t take the two of you that long to pack all his stuff. Like always, you secretly put some shirts and short pants into Lando his luggage. He’s always to stubborn to pack anything else then hoodies, and that without checking the weather. Something you did for sure when you packed your own stuff, so you know for sure that he can use some clothes that’s more suitable for the hot weather. 
“Thanks babygirl,” Lando says after closing the last zipper from his suitcase. He moves closer to you and presses a soft kiss against your forehead. You don’t know what has gotten into you, but you are quick to press your lips against Lando his lips. Without giving it a second thought, you kiss Lando. You feel him smiling through the kiss. He pulls you closely to himself and wraps his arms around your body.
The kiss was meant innocent and short, but Lando is quick to turn it into something more. His hands are roaming over your body. It doesn’t take him long before finding your ass and giving it a couple squeezes. You let out a soft moan. You feel it vibrate against Lando his lips. 
Lando his ringtone distracts the both of you from what you’re doing. You watch how he picks his phone up and say a simple okay after a few seconds of listening. “The cab is here,” he informs you, you reply with a small nod. Lando grabs his luggage and as much of yours as he can manage. Leaving you to only hold two small bags with your own stuff. 
“You know, you’re a great kisser,” Lando says while walking towards the cab.
“I learned from the best,” you joke with an innocent smile.
Lando lets out a soft laugh. “Imagine how great you will be with everything else with such a good teacher,” he continues to joke.
“We’ll see.”
+++
Lando sighs when he takes place in his drivers room. You don’t know what to say to him. He just lost a great qualifying lap due to track limits. If he didn’t lose the lap, he would have started second tomorrow. You are pretty sure that Lando is really mad at himself right now. He always is. Whenever something doesn’t go perfect, he’s blaming himself for it. Right now Lando is softly muttering to himself. You can’t hear exactly what he’s saying, but you guess it’s something in the line of him calling himself an idiot and a bad driver. It makes you feel hurt. You have been here for a lot of his highs and lows since he has his seat with McLaren. You have seen him upset with himself many times before, but it never hurts less. 
“Lan,” you softly say, hoping for a response. He doesn’t even look at you while responding. “Don’t say it’s not my fault,” Lando states, “I’m the one who get track limits. I’m the one to blame. I’m the one who fucked up.”
You think about what to say, but you know that a lot of you guesses aren’t the right one. You can say so many things to Lando about he will do better tomorrow and that he’s still starting in the top ten, but it’s not what he wants to hear right now. Eventually you decide to throw it on a whole other subject.
“Maybe I can cheer you up?” You suggests.
Lando looks up and stares at you. “Cheer me up?” He asks confused. 
“Distract you a bit,” you continue shyly. 
“What do you mean babygirl?” Lando asks you even more confused.
“What about another lesson?” You ask Lando, “You could teach me how to give you a blowjob.”
“You don’t have to,” Lando quickly says, “I didn’t even went down on you yet.”
“I want to,” you reply to him, “and I think it will do a great job with cheering you up.” 
“Sure?” Lando asks a bit confused. You nod. “Words babygirl,” Lando reminds you about his need for you to say everything out loud. “Yes Lando,” you say, “I want to give you a blowjob.” Lando his facial expressions are quick to brighten up. He’s already smiling while thinking about your lips around his dick. It even causes his dick to get hard already. 
“But, you need to tell me what to do,” you tell Lando a bit nervous. He nods eagerly. Then he grabs one of your hands and brings it to his boner. You don’t wait for another instruction and start to palm his boner through his race suit. Lando stays silent for a while, enjoying your slow movements in peace. When you apply a bit more pressure, the first soft moan leaves his lips. In the mean time you press a kiss against Lando his cheek. 
After a few minutes of moving slowly with your hand on his bulge, you try to grab his dick through his race suit. Lando groans when he feels your hand on his dick. He wants nothing more then to feel your skin on his own. He needs to lose the suit. Without thinking about it Lando pulls down the zipper of his race suit. While he unzips his suit, you take a good look at him. It’s almost unfair how good Lando is looking. Since when does his fireproof so much to you?
“Can I take it off?” Lando asks you. 
“Yes please,” you are eager to answer. 
You move your hands away from him, giving him the space to pull of his race suit. Lando grins because of your reaction. He kicks off his shoes and then removes his suit from his body. It feels so strange to see Lando standing in front of you in only his underwear, but then you remember that he’ll lose those in a few seconds too. 
Before Lando can pull of his briefs, you move your lips against his bare chest. Softly you press multiple kisses against his chest. Slowly you move down towards his boxers. In the mean time you still have his boner in your hands. You stroke him softly. When you reach the edge with your mouth, you stop with stroking. Slowly you pull down Lando his boxers. His hard member is quick to pop out of his briefs. Lando finishes your action and takes his boxers off. 
You take your time to look at his dick. It’s the first you see in real life. Of course you have seen some porn movies before, so you have a clear image from how a dick can look. But in a weird way, Lando his member seems more appealing to you. His member is pretty, if you can say it like that. You never thought you’d find a dick pretty. Lando looks at you while you stare at his member. You notice the thick vein that’s laying on his dick. Now that you think about it, his whole boner seems to be at the thick side. Maybe it’s not as long as in the porn movies, but you already guesses that was a bit over the top. You wonder how Lando his thick member will fit inside your mouth and one day inside your vagina. 
“If you’re not sure, you don’t have to do this,” Lando tells you softly.
“No,” you quickly reply. “I want to do this, but you need to tell me what to do.”
Lando grins happily. He’s glad you still want to continue with this. He wasn’t sure if a cold shower would have helped this time. In the mean time you move your hands back to Lando his dick. Lando feels himself hardening under your touch. Has he ever been this hard? You slowly explore his member with your hand. At first you trace the vein laying on top of it with one of your fingers. Then you softly touch his tip. You wait for Lando to say something.
“Lick it a bit,” Lando instructs you. You notice the change of his voice tone. “Make it wet,” he adds. He almost sounds strict. It gives you weird butterflies. 
You take his words into action. Without giving it a second thought, you move your head closer to his member. Carefully you let your tongue come in contact with him. Slowly you lick around his member. Lando lets out a soft moan. You continue your movements. You let your tongue slide over his dick. Exploring the way it feels on your tongue. 
“Put it into your mouth babygirl,” Lando continues to instruct you. He needs to make sure that his dick has been inside your mouth before he cums. All the teasing you’re doing - without even knowing it, is already making him close to getting his orgasm. 
Again you do what Lando says. Carefully you take the top of his dick inside your mouth. Your mouth is quick to feel fulled up. You try to go as deep as you can, but you’re quick to feel some tears popping up in the corners of your eyes.
“Slowly baby,” Lando quickly says when he notices the tears as well, “you don’t have to take everything inside. The top is the most sensitive part.”
You pull back for a bit. Letting his member out of your mouth. Before taking it back inside, you take a deep breath. You try to remember Lando his words. You make sure that the top of his boner is inside your mouth. It feels like you have room for a bit more, so carefully you take him a bit deeper into your mouth. You remind yourself to take your time. Lando his hands has found their way into your hair. Softly he plays with your hair. You lick a bit around his tip with your tongue. Lando rewards you with a moan. It makes you feel good, giddy even, when he reacts like that. 
“Move your head up and down,” Lando instructs you, “Try to make the same stroking movement as before, but now with you mouth.”
Again you take Lando his words into action. Slowly you move your head up and down. You let your mouth slide over his dick a couple times. Lando lets out another moan. You feel proud to be the reason behind those moans. You suck a bit harder onto his dick. Without giving it a second thought, you use your hand to hold the part that doesn’t fit into your mouth. You start to stroke it, alining the movements with the bobbing you do with your mouth. 
“Fuck babygirl,” Lando groans, “You’re really good at this.”
His words make you feel even better. It causes you to fasten your movements. You try to lick his tip as well in the mean time. Lando is quick to become a moaning mess underneath your touch. You feel the way his dick is pulsing inside your mouth. 
“If you don’t want to taste, you should finish it with your hands,” Lando says after a while. You don’t act on his words. Simply you keep continuing your earlier movements. 
Lando can’t stop looking at you while feeling this close to his orgasm. He is still holding your hair in his hands, softly he tugs onto it for a bit. The way you stare at his dick while you’re making him feel like this, turns him on even more. There have been enough girls who have given him a blowjob, but none of them felt like this. He can’t understand how it is possible that you’re so good at everything already. How can it be that someone with no sexual experience is so much better then everyone else? It’s insane. 
“Last warning baby,” Lando warns you with a soft voice. You still don’t remove your mouth from his dick. If he didn’t said anything, you still could have guessed that he’s close to his orgasm. His moans are giving it away. They are becoming more messier and louder with the second. You try to take his dick even further into your mouth. Before you know it, you notice a salty taste inside your mouth. You’re quick to connect the dots and realize what just happened. Lando just came undone.
You decrease your pace, but still keep sucking him off. There are a couple more drops of Lando his cum that are finding their way inside of your mouth. When you think he’s completely empty, you remove your mouth from him. While looking at Lando you swallow his cum. 
“Fuck,” Lando groans, “I could cum again by looking at you doing that.”
You show Lando a small innocent smile. He pulls you onto himself. “Don’t look that innocent baby, not after what you just did,” he tells you. You can’t react to him. He is presses a soft kiss against your cheek before doing the same against your lips. 
“If I told you that this was the best blowjob of my life, would you believe me?” Lando asks you after a bit of a comfortable silence.
“No,” you reply while shaking your head.
“You just did babygirl,” Lando confesses, “I have never experienced a blowjob this good.”
You let out a soft chuckle. “Maybe that says something about the other blowjobs you have gotten,” you say.
“No,” Lando quickly states, “It says everything about you. You’re incredibly good at this baby. And you did find an excellent way to distract me from stupid qualifying lap.”
You laugh. “I’ll remember that for the next time,” you say jokingly. Lando laughs and nods eagerly. “But don’t beat yourself up because of it Lan. Everyone can make mistakes. I’m sure you’ll be fighting for great points tomorrow, I even dare to say that you’ll end up on the podium,” you tell Lando.
“If I get a podium, I’m celebrating with eating you out,” Lando states confidently.
“That’s not a celebration,” you laugh. 
“It is for me.”
Fuck, why is you stomach tightening because of Lando his words? This really can’t be good.
+++
Later that evening Lando and you are sitting in a small restaurant together. He’s sitting next to you, together you’re pressed up closely on a small couch. Oscar and Lily are sitting in front of you. Lando is getting more annoying with the second, he has hunger and absolutely no patience for his food to come. He already toyed with everything on the table and now it’s your turn apparently. 
Lando his hand finds your upper thigh. You almost jump up. He toys with the short skirt you’re wearing. When you feel his hand getting closer to your private parts, you stop him with you own hand. What is he doing? Lando is quick to find his way back to your thigh and squeezes it softly. You can’t help yourself and let out a soft whimper. 
“You okay Y/N?” Lily asks you. 
You send Lando an angry look before answering Oscars girlfriend. “Yeah, just hungry,” you tell her jokingly. It’s enough for Lando to give you a bit more space. He moves himself a bit more away from you. When you feel his hand leave your upper leg, you’re quick to take action. Within milliseconds you have his hand in your own and guide it back towards your thigh. With one stern look you hope he will behave himself. 
Before Lando can do anything stupid, the food is already arriving to your table. Quietly everyone takes their time to eat. Lando - who had a lot of hunger before, is the first one to finish. Meaning he is keeping up the conversations with Oscar, but also has his hands free again. While he talks to Oscar he lets his hand find it’s way back to your leg. 
At first you don’t give it any attention. But when you feel Lando his hand getting under your skirt and his fingers grace against your clothed pussy, you can’t help yourself anymore. You almost choke in a piece of your meal. Loudly you cough. Lando plays the worried friend and hands you your drink, while his other hand is still coming closer towards your private parts then before. You cough another few times, before standing up and announcing that you’re going to the bathroom. 
“You’re quite touchy,” Oscar mentions when you walk away. Lando gives his teammate and friend a confused look. It can’t be that Oscar noticed what he did, right? “You’re never this close to Y/N,” Oscar continues, “Are you two finally dating?” 
Lando laughs. Why does everyone think the two of you are dating? He wish it was like that. To answer Oscar he shakes his head and tells him no, “Still friends.”
“Sure about that?” Oscar asks his friend. Lando notices the way Lily is also looking at him with raised eyebrows. 
“I think I would notice it if I were dating with her, don’t you think?” Lando jokes a bit. He feels his phone vibrating in his pocket and decides to look at it. He’s quick to notice a message coming from you. 
Y/N: i hate you
Lando: you hate me?
Y/N: you made me horny
Lando doesn’t even notice that Oscar is talking to him, until Oscar says his name a couple times. “Then you must have gotten text messages from someone you’re dating with,” Oscar sighs. Lando sends him a confused look, “No, it’s Y/N,” he says even confused. Then he realizes that it probably wasn’t smart to say that you’re texting him. “She isn’t feeling well,” he quickly adds.
Lando: come back here, I told them you’re not feeling well
Lando: we can go back to the hotel right away
Lando: and then I might help you with your problem ;)
Y/N: you better help me with the problem you caused.
Lando smiles at his phone again. 
Not even twenty minutes later Lando and you are back at the hotel room you share together. Lando is pressed up against you. Something that happens quite a lot lately. His hands have found their way back to your thigh. You can’t stop yourself from letting out a soft whimper. 
“You’re the worst,” you softly say the Lando.
“The worst?” He asks you, “I think I’m the one who makes you feel the best you’ve ever done.” 
You can’t argue with that logic from him. Lando his hand is coming closer to where you want him the most right now. Teasingly he drags his finger over your panties a couple time. When you almost make another remark about him teasing you, Lando pulls your string aside. 
“I want to taste you,” Lando groans. He feels the wetness that he caused earlier. When he looks at you, he’s surprised to see you shake your head. Are you telling him no? “No?” He asks a bit confused. 
“First a podium,” you tell Lando teasingly. 
He lets out a grunt. 
“You wanted to celebrate like that,” you remind Lando, “so earn it tomorrow with a podium.”
Lando can’t help it and lets out a soft whine. “You’re the worst,” he repeats your earlier words to you. You don’t reply verbally, you just show Lando a innocent smile. It surprises you when Lando lets his finger enter you. You almost expected that he wasn’t going to continue as payback. His sudden movement cause you to let out a moan. 
When he uses his finger to draw circles on your clit, it doesn’t take you long to come close to your orgasm. “I’m close,” you tell Lando.
“How close?” He asks you. 
“Really close,” you confess.
“Ask for my permission,” Lando instructs you, “I won’t let you cum without it.”
You don’t even think about his words. Before you realize it, pleas are coming from your lips. Begging Lando to make you cum. “Please Lan,” you beg. Lando has a smug smile plastered on his face. He’s enjoying this way too much. He feels you whimpering underneath his touch. “Please,” you beg him again, “Make me cum.” 
“Cum babygirl,” he tells you eventually. He increases his pace and adds another finger into your pussy. It causes you to release everything within seconds. With a trail of moans you come undone. Lando removes his fingers and pulls you closer. He puts his fingers inside his mouth to suck them clean. 
“Now I really have to get a podium tomorrow,” he tells you a bit jokingly. You send him a confused look, still not getting his wish to eat you out. “This taste is already doing things to me,” Lando continues, “and I can’t wait to get addicted to it properly.” 
part five
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niningtori · 3 days
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make you cry | part one
pairing: beomgyu x you
summary: beomgyu is your manwhore best friend who you've been secretly in love with for years. one night, he asks you to blur the lines between friendship and physical intimacy for his own convenience.
genre: ANGST, romance, smut (mdni), fwb
warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, creampie, dom!gyu, eventual sub!gyu, fingering (vaginal), dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!
word count: 4.2k
notes: hi friends! i'm not completely satisfied with this, but i'd rather it be done than sitting in my drafts. pls don't be mean ;_;
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being in love with your best friend is not for the faint of heart, you think. in some cases, it’s the easiest thing in the world, but beomgyu makes it difficult. he’s not a bad guy, at least not deep down, but as you watch him break the heart of another notch in his belt, you can’t help but shiver at the fact that he’d very easily do the same to you if you gave him that chance. not that you ever will, that is, but the thought still remains.
you met in grade school. for you, it was a classic case of love at first sight. you had just fallen off the swingset and the teacher had yet to notice you, so you were crying alone when he came up to you with a dinosaur bandaid in tow. he looked like an angel with the sun encircling him, and even as a child, you thought he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen as he held his little hand out for you to grasp. you had no chance to steel your heart when he asked you if you wanted to be friends, and after that, the rest is history. 
that was years ago, but the image of him holding out his hand is engraved in your bones. you think about it even now as you watch him make the poor, unfortunate girl in front of you bawl like a baby. she asks him why he's doing this, what she did wrong, how she can fix it to make him stay. but he's dead set on breaking her heart tonight. and you'll be the one who takes his tipsy ass home after he's done ruining this girl’s perception of love. you’re nothing more than a glorified lackey and enabler, but that's just how it is.
“god, i don’t know why they can never just let go. they always have to make it so hard,” he grumbles in the passenger’s seat of your care. he seems more annoyed than genuinely upset and you can’t help but to feel for the girl who he just unceremoniously dumped in the middle of a house party, so you speak up for once.
“it’s not her fault, beoms. she just really likes you,” you reason. not that it matters, anyway, but you feel better after speaking your mind.
“so it’s my fault? i just don’t get it. i told her no strings attached from the beginning. the fact that she took it seriously is her own problem.” well, nevermind about feeling better. you feel even worse for her now.
“it’s hard not to get attached to you,” you mumble.
“what?” he asks, not even really paying attention to what you’re saying, but still asking for the sake of being (what he thinks is) polite.
“no, it’s nothing,” you reply quickly.
“mmm,” he nods, completely preoccupied with his own issues to really give a fuck about what you have to say. then, as if by a stroke of genius, he says his next words without much thought.
“i just thought of something! you would never act like that with me, would you?” you can’t help but scowl. of course you’d act like that. you’re a normal human being with normal feelings. you’ve already fallen for beomgyu without the physical intimacy, so you can’t imagine how you’d act if you actually had sex with him. but you can’t tell him that, or else he’d start suspecting something.
“i guess not,” you sigh. 
“then why don’t we hook up instead?” he asks, genuinely earnest. 
“no,” you say simply.
“why not?” he frowns, somewhat offended.
“i’m not interested,” you shrug. you don’t realize that your indifference has the opposite effect on beomgyu. what he perceives as your disgust only interests him more.
“c’mon, i’d definitely show you a good time,” he argues.
“i’m fine, thanks.” 
“no, you’re not fine. you haven’t slept with anybody in months. not since what’s-his-name, right? it’s the perfect deal. i’ll give you the time of your life and i’ll get to fuck without any feelings involved.” you try your hardest not to say it’s too late for that. those words will never leave your mouth, though. or else he’d drop you like a hot potato.
“i said no and i mean no. besides, i kind of like somebody right now.” you’re not lying, really. you truly do like, even love, somebody right now, and he’s sitting right next to you.
“who is he?” he asks. “actually, your taste in men is so shit, i don't even wanna know.” usually, that would hurt your feelings, but this whole situation is so fucked up you can’t even find it in you to stifle your laugh. 
“true.” he cocks an eyebrow at your answer. you should, in theory, vehemently deny this. just how shitty is this guy for you to not even put up a fight? 
“okay, i lied. now i really wanna know. who is he? yeonjun?” he asks. you giggle even more.
“no. yeonjun is sweet, but no. and i’m not telling you, so you should give up.” 
“you think yeonjun is sweet in comparison? damn, this guy must be fucking scum,” he laughs. you can’t help but shake your head with an airy laugh of your own. yeah, he’s so awful he even makes yeonjun look sweet. at least it seems like yeonjun has a conscience when he fucks somebody over. beomgyu, for the most part, has none.
“he’s not all bad,” you say softly, still smiling and resting your head on the headrest of your car. 
“but still bad,” he argues. 
“mhmm,” you hum. “still bad.”
-
beomgyu doesn’t mention hooking up again after that, and for that you are thankful, you think. is there a part of you that regrets not saying yes? in a way, you do. who wouldn’t want to be even closer to the one they love? but you know the closeness would be a lie. even if you were in closer proximity physically, he’d still be far away emotionally. too far to ever catch him. and so you sit at the counter of this shitty bar and watch him try to woo one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen, and by the looks of it, it’s working. you smile bitterly and down another shot, making your stomach feel hotter and hotter. you know that by the end of the night, you’ll feel sick, but you’d rather be physically sick and drunk rather than emotionally sick and sober. 
“you okay?” kai asks, sliding into the seat next to yours and cutting into your daze with ease. 
“aren’t i always?” you answer with a wry smile.
“it’s that bad, huh?” he asks. beomgyu is your best friend, sure, but kai is the only person in the world who knows about your feelings for him. he also feels like the only person in the world who would understand them. 
“yeah, it is,” you mumble, downing yet another drink as you watch beomgyu grinding on the girl salaciously. 
“wanna get out of here?” he asks sympathetically. you should say no. beomgyu will be angry that you left  him, even if he’d ditch you in a heartbeat to get laid. but now, as you watch him shoving his tongue in the red-lipped mouth of the girl who will now be the impossible standard you’ll hold yourself to from hereon out, you can’t bring yourself to care.
“i do,” you smile, for real this time, and his grin matches yours.
you’re so drunk, you barely remember how you got home, but you’re here and so is hyuka. you don’t cry, even if he kind of wishes you would just so you could let it all out. you laugh, even, as he tells his dorky jokes and beats your ass in mario kart. things are going so well, you don’t even hear the pounding on your door until kai says something about it.
“i’ll get it,” he says soothingly when you unsteadily try to stand up.
“thanks, hyuka,” you smile. and that smile stays planted on your face until you see who’s at the door. beomgyu. and by the looks of it, he’s pissed.
“what the fuck is your problem?! how could you just leave me there alone?” he asks as soon as he’s let in. your face sinks and all prior happiness is washed away in an instant.
“you weren’t alone,” kai cuts in defensively. “she was alone until i came and got her.” beomgyu is actually a little embarrassed by this blatant callout, but he’d sooner die than admit it.
“well, she should’ve said something, at least,” he counters, face still hot and voice still as loud as ever.
“i thought you were going home with that girl,” you reply meekly. 
“and you couldn’t just ask?!” he snaps. 
“you’re being an asshole,” kai argues. “nobody wants to watch you tonguing down some random girl, and she’s not your babysitter.” the room is deathly quiet after this. beomgyu is fishing for words, but he’s too drunk to quite think of any at the moment. he wishes he were sober so he could put kai in his place, but the words never come. all he knows is he’s pissed beyond anything he can properly articulate and it’s driving him crazy. 
“you’re drunk,” kai adds sternly. “go home.” 
“hyuka, it's okay,” you say gently. “he's too drunk for that. he can crash on the couch.” beomgyu doesn't know why, but he scowls at the nickname.
“but —”
“it's okay,” you repeat. kai’s face looks torn. 
“alright, then i'll head out,” he relents after a few seconds. “the both of you just need some sleep,” he says with a sharp glance towards beomgyu, who is still fuming, by the way.
“thank you,” you say with a terse smile. he returns it with a smile of his own and shuts the door behind him. beomgyu watches the entire interaction and somehow feels even worse.
“what the fuck was that? is he the guy you’re hung up on or something?” 
“no!” you exclaim incredulously. “hyuka is a nice guy, and he’s just… helping me with some things right now.” you’re not the most eloquent person on a good day, much less while drunk, so that’s all you can really say at the moment.
“what ‘things’ could he possibly be helping you with?” he snaps before realization dawns on him. “you told him about that guy, didn’t you?! you can tell him but you can’t tell me?” 
“he… he just understands,” you say. you knew beomgyu wouldn’t just let this shit go and be done with it. he’s like a child finding out his dog likes somebody better than he likes him, and it’s exhausting.
“are you sleeping with him?” 
“what, no!”  you say firmly. 
“you are, aren’t you?” he sneers. “you won’t let me touch you, but you’re letting him?” 
“is it so hard to believe that a man just wants to be my friend without wanting to fuck me?” truthfully, yes. you’re good looking and his experience tells him that men always harbor those intentions. well, he does, at least. and for some reason, as he looks at you in your big t-shirt and sweatpants, those intentions are brewing even more. 
“beomgyu?” you ask tentatively. his eyes are so intense it seems like he’s even more pissed off,  somehow. your innocent look stokes the flames of what’s already been burning for you.
as if he’s possessed, he stalks his way over to you, grabs your face before you can even react, and plants a bruising kiss on your soft lips. you gasp when he meanly takes your bottom lip between his teeth and he can’t help but chuckle. the kiss is cruel for so many reasons, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t knock you off of your feet. you’re usually so restrained around him for reasons only you and kai know, but you feel your inhibitions melt as his tongue enters your mouth. he tastes like alcohol, but then, so do you, and he doesn’t seem to mind. in fact, if his hungry kiss in any indication, he seems to love it. 
one of his hands travel under your big hoodie and he tweaks your already hardened nipple between his fingers. 
“does that feel good, baby?” he asks lowly, and you feel yourself becoming even more wet. you're too embarrassed to respond, but judging from his tone, he already knows your answer. 
his kisses are unrelenting and fierce, no gentleness or care to be seen, but you’re so sweet he can’t control himself. he’s been wanting to do this ever since he hit puberty, but you’ve never seemed interested in him for reasons he can’t understand. but now, you seem more than interested as you let him lead you to your bedroom. he lays you down on your bed and takes off your sweatpants. when he sees you, naked and glistening just from a few touches, he licks his lips in anticipation.
“all this from a few kisses?” he teases, rubbing his fingers up and down your slit. you can do nothing but gasp in response as he pushes one of his long, calloused fingers into your heat.
“s-so tight, it’s sucking me in,” he moans. “i can’t wait to see how you feel around my cock.” he adds a second finger and curls, hitting your sweet spot. all you can do is moan as he takes his thumb and rolls your clit. he watches your body rise and fall with the pleasure and it fascinates him like nothing he’s ever seen. your eyes are screwed shut, but he can’t help but prod and tease to see the different facial expressions you show him. before long, he’s pounding into you. the sound of squelches mixed with your moans only goads him further and further until you’re clenching down mercilessly on his fingers.
“aww, does that feel good, baby?” he coos. “wanna feel even better?” post-release clarity should hit you right about now, but you’re only more eager when he removes his clothes. his lengthy cock, angry and reddened, springs up and slaps his stomach. you whimper at the sight and he smirks at how needy you are.
he hovers over you and slowly, agonizingly slowly, he begins to rub his stiffened length up and down your slit. 
“gyu, you need a condom —” you begin to protest.
“why? i’m clean. and i don’t fuck just anyone raw,” he argues as the head of his cock comes dangerously close to hooking on your entrance. you’ve never been able to say no to him for any meaningful amount of time, so relenting isn’t out of the ordinary for you. but more than that, his words, though unromantic, spark a bit of hope in your heart. you’re special, you think. 
“do you trust me?” he asks. 
no. not at all.
“of course.” and he pushes in. his arrogance falters as you take him in, inch by throbbing inch. it’s a tight fit, and the way you clench around the tip of his cock only drives him further and further into madness. how can you feel so good? how can this feel so perfect? 
your poor pussy is equal parts trying to suck him in and trying to resist so the intrusion is forced out. to him, it feels like heaven. 
“t-tight!” he hisses. “relax, baby, or you’re gonna break me.” for some reason, his words comfort you, allowing him smooth entry until he’s completely sheathed in you. you both moan when he completely bottoms out, balls hitting your ass in the most lewd way. his precum mixed with the result of your release seep into the bedsheets. he stays there for just a moment, pushing your hair out of your face, and his next words are uncommonly tender.
“you look so pretty like this,” he muses, and you don’t even have time to blush before he’s unsteadily pulling out, pussy pulling him back in like it never wants him to leave, then thrusting back in again. 
“oh m-my god,” he says as he begins to ram into you. “so good, baby. you’re taking me so well.” 
“b-big!” is all you can manage to say as he continues to fuck you open.
“oh baby, are you going dumb on my cock? can’t even manage to get the words out, can you? it’s okay, don’t think. i’ll take care. of. you,” he says, punctuating each word with his mean thrusts. 
you’re crying now, the pleasure too great to stifle your tears. beomgyu thinks you look absolutely lovely like this, lovelier than anyone he’s ever seen, especially when he looks at where you two are joined and watches himself enter and exit your puffy pussy. each gasp, each breathy whine you emit makes him feel crazier and crazier. he aches so much, he has no choice but to continue pounding into you until he's relieved. so he does. he’s gripping the plush of your thighs like he might die if he doesn’t have something to hold onto. 
he leans over to give you a nasty kiss, all tongue and teeth. when he parts from you, a lewd string of saliva falls from your mouths and he can’t control the chuckle that escapes him when he sees your pupils are blown out as you flounder for his lips again. 
“look, baby. look at how good i’m fucking you.” you look down and see how his cock protrudes from your tummy as he rams in and out of you. “nobody else has fucked you right, but don’t worry, i’ll make sure to fix that.” your pussy involuntarily clenches at his filthy words and it’s enough to make you come.
“c-coming!” you manage to choke out as you spasm around him, back arching deliciously. he follows soon after, thrusts becoming uneven before you feel his cum shooting inside of you.
-
fucking beomgyu comes naturally, and often. he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. hooking up becomes almost a daily affair, but you’re so hungry for him you can’t bring yourself to protest. you fuck in his car, on his couch, over the fucking kitchen counter, even. all plans to go out with anyone else are immediately dashed in favor of being with him, instead. you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him, and even if you know, know, know it’s fruitless, you can’t help but relent when he looks at you like a man starved. 
“this can’t be good for you,” kai tells you one evening in the comfort of your apartment. it’s a rare occurrence to have a free night from beomgyu’s clutches. kai hasn’t seen you in weeks because you’ve been too “busy” with beomgyu. 
“well, i know,” you sigh, too tired to argue with him. 
“if you know, then why do you do it?” he asks tentatively. you can’t help but give him a look. 
“you know why,” you say. 
“he's just messing with your head. you know this can't end well.” you flinch at the word “end”. you know it, he knows it, beomgyu surely fucking knows it, but you can’t help but give in every time. “what are you gonna do when he inevitably fucks you over? and he will, just like always.”
“i… i’ll deal with it when the time comes,” you protest. he sees your defeated expression and lightly tilts your head so it’s resting on his shoulder. your retribution for your actions was always well on its way, but you didn’t know it would come so soon. 
you hear a key turning in the door. there’s only one person in the world you’ve given a spare to, so you aren’t surprised in the slightest when beomgyu walks in with that signature smirk on his face. he scowls a bit when he’s greeted with the scene of you and kai sitting so intimately.
“am i interrupting something?” he scoffs as you raise your head from kai’s shoulder.
“no,” kai replies before you can even fix your lips to respond. to your mild surprise, he doesn't push any further.
“whatever,” he shrugs, plopping down next to the two of you and pulling out his phone.
“wanna see this girl whose number i got today?” he asks casually, swiping through his phone eagerly. so that's why he didn't wanna meet up. your heart feels like a hole’s been blown straight through it. you and kai share a deep look, which beomgyu completely misses as he pulls up a picture of a beautiful looking girl. 
“this is her,” he says with a triumphant smirk. you don’t — can’t — respond. you just have a blank look on your face.
“what?” he asks petulantly. “she’s really pretty, look!” he insists, pulling up another picture. “she’s one of the hottest girls i’ve seen in a minute.”
any last shred of hope or dignity you have is strangled in its crib at his careless words. your eyes are hot and your stomach hurts so much you feel like you’re going to vomit. kai notices your discomfort and decides to put a stop to this once and for all.
“alright, that’s enough,” kai snaps. “nobody wants to see that shit.”
“what’s your fucking problem?” beomgyu retorts.
“my problem is that you’re a fucking moron. grow up.” beomgyu’s not one to get physical, at least not in a violent sense, but he’s on the precipice of breaking that streak at kai’s harsh words.
“stop, hyuka. it’s okay,” you say softly. beomgyu is so furious, he almost forgot you’re here, but he's genuinely confused by kai’s words.
“what's okay? what is it that you're not telling me?” beomgyu asks. 
“it's not okay, actually. he’s fucking you but he comes around and pulls this shit right in front of you?! she won’t say it, but i will.” 
“kai, don’t —” 
“she doesn’t care! no strings attached, that’s always been the deal.”
“you may be stupid as fuck, but surely you’re not that stupid,” kai sneers. “so if you say you don’t already know, you’re just a fucking liar.” beomgyu pauses at this. is he saying what he thinks he’s saying? surely you didn’t catch feelings, right? but one look at your face, and he knows kai is telling the truth. 
but why? and when?
“since when did you…”
“since always,” you say quietly. 
“oh, fuck. look, i —”
“it’s okay. i already know,” you cut in. and you do already know, but you can’t bear to hear him say it. beomgyu, in all his glory, processes this and instead of regret, all he feels is anger.
“i’m the piece of shit guy you can’t get over? are you fucking serious?”
“hyuka, you should go,” you say instead of letting him watch the melodrama unfolding before him. kai looks uncertainly between the both of you before relenting. 
“call me later, okay?” he says, wiping tears from your eyes that you didn’t realize had fallen.
“okay,” you reply with a sad smile. he sends beomgyu one last scathing look before gathering his shit and slamming the door behind him. 
“you tricked me!” beomgyu exclaims as soon as the door shuts. “i would’ve never fucked you if i knew you’d be like this.” just like everyone else. he doesn’t need to voice the last part, but you already know he wants to say it, which just hurts you even more.
“did you really not know, or were you just pretending not to know ‘cause it’d be inconvenient for you?” that shuts him up. kai was right, he’d be stupid not to know. maybe not at first, but surely along the way. surely when you’d look at him so longingly after sleeping with him, or the way you’d look so sad when he didn't stay after sex.
“listen, i’m so sorry that you’re scared, or angry, or whatever it is you’re feeling. i really am. but are you so selfish that you really think nobody else is afraid to have their heart broken? and do you think that means you’re allowed to hurt everyone else instead?” you ask quietly. every new word pierces his heart like nothing he's ever felt before. he wants to say something, but for the life of him, he can’t think of anything quite fitting. 
“i think you should leave,” you say after what feels like an eternity of silence. he looks at you with watery eyes and you almost feel guilty, but you’re through with feeling things for him that he’d never have the courtesy to feel for you. “go,” you repeat defeatedly, striding to the door and holding it open for him and he feels more and more like a rat you want to chase out of your home.
he looks like he wants to say something, but one look at you tells him you’re done listening. with heavy feet and an even heavier heart, he heads through the doorway, pausing only before he’s about to cross the threshold. he has a sinking feeling in his gut that tells him this is probably the last time he’ll be here. 
“are we still friends after this?” he asks lowly, eyes wide and more desperate than you’ve ever seen them. 
“no,” you say simply, and shut the door.
notes: not a ton of smut in this part, but i think the next part will have more i fear.
taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast
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Text
Being Their Pregnant Partner Featuring
Kita, Suna and Akaashi
Tumblr media
Kita Shinsuke x Pregnant Reader; Suna Rintaro x Pregnant Reader; Akaashi Keiji x Pregnant Reader
Warnings: fluff
AN: and again : D
Kita
The beautiful sight of his fields at sunset were nothing compared to your gorgeous, full figure walking towards him with a basket full of food. He stopped his work, gathering up his equipment before making his way to you at the edge of the field.
“I thought you were suppose to be resting dear,” he asked you, smirk across his face as you scowled back at him.
“Well, you’ve barred me from field work so I guess the only thing I can do now is make you food and laze about the house, which I might add, is boring!”
Kita knew you’d have a hard time with the end of your pregnancy and with getting the required rest the doctor had ordered for you. At first, he tried everything to get you to just take one nap a day to rest and relax. Eventually he gave up on his quest and let nature take its course. Now that you were 8 months, your body essentially forced you to take a break which you absolutely hated.
“Why don’t you work on your knitting? You always complain you never had time for that when you worked the rice fields with me,” Kita suggested as you sighed.
“Well now that I have time I don’t want to do that, I want to work!”
You’re pout drove Kita insane but he knew there was little he could do to help you at this point. You absolutely were not allowed to help him in the fields but maybe there was something else you could do.
“Hey what about helping with packaging? You know that’s something you can sit and do,” he declared, waiting your response.
“I guess,” you groaned, admitting defeat, “I guess it’s better than nothing.”
Kita smiled, kissing your forehead and you both sat down to enjoy your food.
Suna
Suna couldn’t help but laugh at the sight before him. There you were, on the floor covered in paint as you tried to maneuver the piece of baby furniture you were painting.
“Hey Rin!” You spoke, face and hands completely covered in green paint as you continued to happily paint ground edges with great detail.
Suna wasn’t sure how you managed to be so careful with painting the dress or yet so messy with yourself
“Babe, I told you I’d help you tonight when I got home from practice,” Suna laughed, coming over to you to help you get off the floor in your extremely pregnant state.
He held out his hands as you gripped them, pulling yourself up and into his arms. You giggled as your painted body touched his and his EJP hoodie, making the colors now yellow, black, white and green.
“Good thing I got like 50 more of these in my closet,” he joked as you smiled
“You mean in my closet, I borrowed at least 10.”
Suna just chuckled, thinking how lucky he was to have such an amazing and wonderful partner.
Akaashi
“You’ve been working on that article all night babe, don’t you think it’s time you take a break?” You interrupted, bringing in a cup of tea and some late night snacks for your husband who had been working all day.
“It’s not an article love, it’s a letter your baby,” Akaashi answered as you stopped, eyes shifting to him as you set the tea down.
“A letter to the baby? May I ask what it’s about?”
Akaashi shrugged, “well it’s kind of about how you and I met and how our lives were before baby.”
Tears welled up in your eyes at your husbands thoughtful gesture. Akaashi noticed the tears, getting up and hugging you tightly as you sobbed in his arms.
“T-that’s got-got to be the cu-cutest thing I’ve e-ever heard Keiji,” you bellowed as Keiji just chuckled, consoling you, one hand on your back and one on your belly.
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