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enkvyu · 9 months

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7:02pm — gojo satoru ; part two to this imagine

"gojo, your hair is in my mouth."

"you're lucky i washed it a few days ago."

you peer up at him over your phone. "a few days? how many? gojo, tell me."

gojo hums to himself and you hate that it might be serious consideration that he's under. "like maybe seven?"

you gag, flailing at your mouth and spitting out the few strands. you faintly hear gojo complain but it's overridden as you deal with your dilemma.

the two of you were curled inside the stomach of one of getou's curses as it flew across the ocean to arrive back at jujutsu high. the cramped space and gooey flesh makes you shiver, effectively increasing your poor mood, but perhaps the biggest detriment was the person you were stuck with.

sure, public transport was a viable option but yaga had specifically emphasised on the "top-secret" and "classified" written in big bold red letters on the mission file. this meant no one was to know, not ordinary people, not curses and not even other sorcerers.

granted, the school had access to one private jet which they were willing to offer, but that jet only had space for one.

the three of you had sat down and played a game of scissors paper rock to determine who takes it, and while you were lucky to win it for the trip forward, getou ends up victorious for the way back.

and now, you were stuck in close proximity with gojo inside the gut of a flying dragon.

"why are you in such a bad mood anyway?" gojo has the audacity to ask, as if he wasn't the sole reason why you were uncomfortable. you keep your mouth shut though, nothing good will come out of admitting your undying, and unfortunately unrequited, love for him.

"i'm in a perfectly fine mood."

"why do you look like that then, all constipated and everything? did you not go to the bathroom before we left?"

you curl your fingers into a fist and punch him in the chest. it hits his uniform, smearing some of the curses' stomach juice. "of course i did! i'm not a newbie sorcerer."

"ouch!"

"that didn't hurt you."

"how are you going to tell me how i feel?" gojo jabs back. "because it did hurt, it hurt my feelings."

"oh boohoo."

"so you are mad."

you bite your lip and turn away, finding the abdominal wall of the beast easier on the eyes than your own friend. "i'm not."

"you're sulking."

"i'm not." you hiss before taking in a deep breath. "look gojo, can we just stay quiet until we get there?"

gojo keeps staring at you through his glasses and his face fails to give his thoughts away. the suspense is killing you, but before you can relent and ask what he has to say, he clears his throat.

"i have something to tell you."

you sigh, rubbing at your head. "what is it?"

"wait, don't turn around and keeping looking at the wall. hey, what did i just say?"

"gojo, the view isn't really the best to sightsee. why can't i look at you?"

"because if you do, i don't think i can tell you after all."

you close your mouth. "is it that serious?"

"yeah." he clears his throat again, adjusting the collar of his uniform. "look, i know you've been weird around me the past few days and i don’t think it’s because i stretched out your uniform when i wore it last weekend. i don't know why you’re being mean to me, and shoko and getou won't tell me either."

you resist the urge to look at him. "you're having this kind of talk with me now? here? seriously?"

"you won't even stay in the same room as me for more than a few minutes! getou may call this curse his bad-luck curse but for me right now it's the only way to get you to listen to me." he stays quiet for a few seconds. "this is really serious, okay, so don't make any comments. i know you're practically brimming with them."

it was true you had a lot to say, but gojo's serious attitude was putting you off. still, having him call you out made you more aggravated and you let one slip. "well, this is really bad-luck for me."

gojo clicks his tongue and you can see the irritation on his face before his words are even coloured with it. "i'm not telling you this so you can feel the same way but—"

the curse suddenly tilts to the side, throwing you into gojo as the four walls of its stomach becomes a wheel, rotating you around. you yelp as your forehead hits him hard in the chest, tears springing to your eyes at the pain.

“what’s going on?”

the two of you spin round and round, and you can't distinguish your screams from gojo's as gravity plays you like a toy, throwing you around.

the movement makes you sick. "gojo, do something! blast it!"

"getou'll get mad if i kill another one of his curses!"

"are you kidding, we're going to die!"

gojo swears, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you into his chest. with his other arm, he holds out his hand and presses it on the flesh.

you tuck your chin in, squeezing your eyes shut when you realise he hadn't started chanting his technique. "what are you doing?" you look up at him and find him staring at the exit of the stomach through all the goo and chaos.

with a trembling finger, he points to it. you stare into the abyss, squinting your eyes to make out its indistinct shapes. what was that pulsing thing, attached to the side? and was it just you, but was it getting bigger?

with a start, you realise that the curse was about to throw up. and coincidentally, so were you.

"it's going to throw us up!" you share your realisation with gojo but the look on his face tells you he already arrived at the same thought.

he opens his mouth to say something, or scream you're not too sure as the walls of the stomach contracts. distantly, you feel gojo slide his other arm around you and his infinity takes over, shielding the two of you as you're forcefully ejected from the curse's mouth.

a scream escapes your throat as you escape the curse's, wind rushing through your ears. gojo swears again, bringing his arm up to protect your head.

you only know you're safe when you feel air again, the real kind, not the gas built up in the curse's stomach. a thud tells you gojo has landed on solid ground again and you've never felt more grateful to be alive, your entire body relaxing as your soul leaves.

gojo sighs with you, his hold slightly loosening.

getou watches as you're spat out, stepping out of the private jet with a big smile on his face. "you guys look rough."

you feel gojo tense his jaw rather than see it. "what was that for?"

getou shrugs, throwing a bag over his shoulder. he starts digging through it. "i told you that curse is some serious bad-luck. at least you both arrived in one piece.” he looks up and raises an eyebrow at you. “literally in one piece, are you guys going to stay like that forever?"

your mind slowly pieces together your position, still curled up in gojo's arms as he is sat on the pavement, before you leapt out. gojo makes no move to stop you, though you think he might have tsked.

"here, this is for you." getou finally pulls out what he was searching for from his bag and throws it at the two of you.

you catch it instinctively, studying the object in your hand. "a can of soda?"

"for surviving."

"that curse of yours is a safety hazard." you mutter, but accept the can. you crack open the lid and tilt your head back, taking a long, cool sip.

gojo stares down at the drink. "i told you i don't like this flavour!" he complains and you roll your eyes at his antics.

"then don't drink it."

"no. give me your one instead."

getou pauses, halfway to opening his own iced coffee. "huh? i got this for me. and you don't even like coffee! you should be glad i even got one for you in the first place."

"let's play a game of rock paper scissors to decide who gets it."

"no. i just told you i got this for me."

gojo stands up, taking a step forward menacingly. "huh? after what you put me through, you think i'm just going to take no for an answer?"

getou's eyes flicker to yours before he takes up gojo's challenge, activating his cursed technique. black liquid opens up the air beside him, a peering red eye on the other side. "can't handle rejection, gojo? because you better get used to it."

you take another sip as you watch the boys, absentmindedly wiping at a stain on your sleeve. you remember the feeling of gojo's arm around your body and you blush despite yourself.

"are you feeling sick?"

you look up to see that gojo had stopped fighting with getou, his entire attention on you.

"huh?"

"you're red in the face. you look like a tomato."

ignoring the last part, you hide your face behind your drink. "i'm fine."

getou looks between the two of you and there's a glint in his eyes that you've seen before, one that you've grown to dread.

he throws back the rest of his coffee, grimacing as it gives him a slight brain freeze, before crushing the can in his hand. gojo mutters a quick, "show off" that he ignores, instead chucking the can into a bin a few metres away.

"what a time." he starts saying, the words static. "that was great. well, now that i've finished my drink, i should head back inside."

“i should head in too. i smell real bad.” you sigh and give gojo a glare when he agrees.

“actually, can the two of you stay here? i think my curse isn’t feeling too well after eating you two. just until i come back, okay?”

you think there might be an ulterior motive but glancing over at the curse, you find that it did look greener than before.

"where are you going, and for how long?" you ask and hope the look in your eyes will make him stay.

"i need to tell yaga we finished the mission. you guys can just stay here, i've got it." then to you, he says, clenching his fist in support, "you got this."

you want to break his arm.

getou hurries away despite your silent plea, leaving you in an awkward silence with the one person you wanted to avoid most. you take multiple quick sips to busy yourself, but you can’t ignore the person standing by your side.

gojo shifts his balance to his other foot and the sound of his shoe against the pavement breaks the silence. "so."

"so."

"it's really bright, huh."

"you're wearing sunglasses."

"and do they completely cover my eyes? no they don't. i can still complain about the sun."

"just push your glasses up then."

"no." gojo huffs. "i look cooler this way."

"who told you that? because i know for a fact it wasn't anyone whose opinion actually matters." you jab back.

"your mum said that, actually."

"are you a child?"

"what, are you too cool for old jokes? they're iconic for a reason."

"and there's a reason why 'your mum jokes' died and should stay that way."

the natural way in which you banter with gojo gives you confidence. maybe it didn't matter that you liked him, or that he didn't like you back. it was enough that he was here with you now, joking around. perhaps you could even live with knowing that your unrequited love had come to an end, perhaps you could even pair them up yourself without a sense of bitter jealousy.

"i know you like getou." gojo says in one breath.

the peace you had come to, shatters.

"what?" you say in an inhale, and it comes out sounding weird.

gojo pouts, crossing his arms. "i'm right, aren't i? you like getou. i heard what you were saying to shoko that one time."

"don't eavesdrop on other people's conversations!"

"you were saying it pretty loudly, what was i meant to do? shut my ears?"

you wave away his whining. "stop, hold on. you think i like getou?"

gojo nods. "i don't think you do, i know. you said you like people like him."

"when did i ever say that? also, i'm not the one who likes getou, you are!"

"what?"

"what, what? you do, don't you? you told me yesterday that you liked getou."

"i never said that!"

"then who were you talking about?"

"who were you thinking about?" gojo shoots back. "because you didn't even hesitate when you explained your type to shoko. you were thinking of someone, weren't you?"

you gulp. "i asked first."

he looks at you long and hard and you stare back at your reflection through his glasses. his mouth opens and there's a mixed sense of dread and anticipation brewing in your stomach.

"tch."

"did you just click your tongue at me?"

gojo faces away. his jaw is tense as he blatantly ignores your question. "you're really annoying."

"huh? speak for yourself!"

"you have a problem with me?"

"i have a problem with your stupid attitude."

when gojo closes the distance between the two of you, you take a step back out of instinct. it doesn't matter though because gojo steps forward again, pushing you up against the curse getou had left behind. he slams a hand into the flesh of the curse and it makes a startled sound. the both of you ignore it. "it's you, idiot, i like—"

the force behind his slam is frightening, but the thought is torn from you when the sound of regurgitation grabs your attention. with a start, you turn around at the curse and find your phone on the ground at the entrance of the curse's mouth, covered in goo.

"my phone!" you exclaim, bending down to pick it up.

gojo backs up and groans loudly, but you don't care, wincing instead when the item is sticky.

"i didn't even know i lost this! thanks gojo, i think." your voice trails off wearily, holding up the phone and watching as viscous liquid slowly drips off it.

gojo rubs his face with his palm and you wonder why he looks so distressed. "that curse is seriously bad luck." meeting your eye, he points a finger at you. "listen to what i have to say!"

you raise your eyebrow at him. "damn okay, gojo's arrived." you mutter, wiping down the phone and pocketing it.

the clouds overhead parts, sunlight shining down in rays. the trees whistle in the summer breeze and light filters through the gaps in the leaves and branches. it hits gojo perfectly, adorning him in a golden light and you've never seen him so beautiful. guilt fills you at the thought and you hold your soda tighter.

he breathes in one more time. "i don't care that you like getou." he says. "because it doesn't matter to me. it just means i have to work harder to change your mind and get you to notice me instead."

"it's kind of hard to not notice you." you say. "i mean, look at what you're wearing."

gojo hisses. "don't ruin the mood, you're throwing me off. like i was saying, it's not your fault you like getou but i had to tell you this anyway, because it's been making my heart feel all prickly and stuff. so shut up and just stand there looking pretty, or whatever." his last few words trail off uncertainly, as if he never intended to say them at all.

"what are you even saying?" your heart picks up. was he about to confess?

"i'm saying that i think i like—"

"there you guys are!"

your head whips around at the voice, scanning the familiar landscape before settling on a single person. shoko stands metres away, waving a hand to grab your attention. "over here!"

"shoko!" a grin splits across your face. "i haven't seen you all day!"

"am i interrupting something?" she yells to get her voice across the distance.

you don't even look over at gojo as you shake your head. you had a feeling he was just going to tell you something you already knew, that he liked getou, anyway. “no! hold on, i'm coming over."

before you can run up to her, gojo grabs your arm, a deep frown etched on his face. "wait, you still haven't—!"

without another thought, you hand him your half-finished can of soda and wriggle out of his hold. "you can have the rest of that. i'll hear you out later, okay?"

"but the mood was so right!"

"look after the curse until getou’s back, later!"

gojo stands there in front of the bad-luck curse, one arm limp by his side and the other holding a can of blue soda. he watches as you fling yourself into shoko's arm, already listing all the things you've been saving up to tell her.

there's that prickly feeling again, gojo realises, noting the way the sun lightens the shade of your hair, the way your eyes curve up as you smile, and the way you hold onto shoko's hand, wishing that he had enough courage to hold yours.

defeated, battered and drained, gojo looks down at the can in his hand, and notes the slight lipstick stain on the rim.

with a red on his cheeks that didn't come from the sun, he presses the aluminium to his lips and takes a sip. it tastes sweet.

gojo decides that he'll just have to settle for this.

i hope this was okay considering i had no intentions of writing a part two. sorry for all the descriptions of stomachs and throw up, i was studying the digestive system 👎 if this isn’t what u guys expected feel free to leave a request !!

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo fluff #gojo imagine #gojo drabble #getou suguru #ieiri shoko #gojo satoru x you

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ellemj · 5 months

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What Am I To You?

Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot: SMUT

Summary: You pissed your fuck buddy off and now he only has one question, but it takes a few orgasms to get the right answer out of you.

Warnings: profanity, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, facesitting, light choking, light breeding kink, no use of y/n, praise, spanking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings. Thank you to @littlemiss-yeehaw for the ones listed above, she's a gem.

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: This filth came from a random 4am thought that created the dialogue in the first paragraph. I had to use it. Everyone should totally beg @littlemiss-yeehaw to post the horny lil sketch she started for this one-shot. Side note, should I start a tag list for people who want to be tagged in all fics I post? Idk, I'm still way too new to Tumblr to be running a blog like this lmfao. I need a team of advisors.

“Do you know who the fuck you’re talking to? Get on the bed, I’ll show you.” You stay where you are, standing in the doorway of his bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest in a show of defiance. “Get on the fucking bed, right now.” He repeats, pointing a finger at his bed. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s seconds away from dishing out a punishment, one that he’ll enjoy far more than you, so you shuffle forward and crawl onto the bed as he watches. Good girl.

You’ve been here before. You know what he wants from you. He wants you on your hands and knees, with no looking back over your shoulder to see what’s coming. So that’s how you settle yourself, on your hands and knees, staring down at the soft, ruffled up bedding beneath you.

“What am I to you?” He asks, his tone scarily calm and even. You take a deep breath and close your eyes. What kind of answer is he looking for? You’re just fuck buddies. You use each other to de-stress after missions. It’s never been anything more, not once in the past two months that it’s been going on has there ever been so much as a hint that it could be something more.

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly. You listen intently as the familiar sound of Bucky’s belt buckle coming undone fills the silence in the room. A chill races through your body, dancing across the surface of your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

“You don’t know…” Bucky tsks. You can’t see him, but he’s standing a couple of feet away from the foot of the bed, letting his eyes rake over your nearly exposed ass as he unbuttons his shirt. The little black dress that you’re wearing barely covers anything with the position you’re in, and he’s fucking thankful for it. In fact, if you hadn’t pissed him off tonight, he probably would’ve found some way to fuck you during the mission just because of that dress. But you pissed him off. “I’ll help you figure it out.” Bucky steps forward now, his warm right hand and cool, metal left hand both gracing the skin of your right ankle as he begins taking off your heels. He drops one to the floor before moving on to the other, and then he strips his shirt off and tosses it to the side as well.

“I thought we were just—”

“You don’t want to finish that sentence.” Bucky warns, effectively cutting you off and giving you a chance to save yourself. It’s beyond clear now that this isn’t just a fuck buddies situation to him anymore. It did start out that way though. Two months ago when you two stumbled into bed together, he proposed a friends-with-benefits type of relationship so casually that you would’ve thought he’d had plenty of them in his lifetime. It worked so well, with the two of you meeting up once or twice a week at either your place or his to blow off steam with good sex. It wasn’t until you were a month in that Bucky started to realize he hated the way you’d leave within half an hour of finishing each other off. He hated that you never slept over. He hated that you still had the freedom to talk to other guys, hell, you could even go out on dates with other guys if you wanted and he wouldn’t be able to say shit about it. Because this was nothing. It was just a casual agreement between friends.

Bucky trails his fingers along your calves slowly, taking his time as he decides what he’s going to do with you. Every other time that you’ve been together, he’s let it be a mutually beneficial thing. There was never a time where only one of you pleased the other, because that would’ve defeated the purpose of the arrangement. He would’ve been perfectly content with solely pleasuring you here and there, giving you everything while taking nothing for himself, but you always reciprocated and he never stopped you. But now, he’s going to do exactly what he wants. He’s going to show you what he is to you in the best way that he knows how: by making you come undone for him, by reminding you that no one else has ever or will ever make you feel the way that he can.

As Bucky pulls his hands away from your calves, you hear the sound of his pants dropping to the floor, the sound of his dog tags shifting around his neck and tapping against his bare chest with his movements, and then the sound of a deep sigh leaving his lips. Anticipation courses through your veins and mixes with adrenaline, creating a dangerous compound that only seems to encourage the wetness seeping into your panties. You shift on the bed, wiggling your hips and wishing you could clench your thighs together for even the smallest amount of friction. Bucky, of course, notices you moving and quickly gains control of the situation.

“Impatient, huh? Do you need something?” He questions slyly, letting his hands connect with your calves once again. You’re fooled by his gentle touch, your body not at all expecting his flesh hand to suddenly smack against your ass. “Answer me.” Holy shit. He’s never been quite like this with you before.

“I need you.” You answer, hoping he’ll give you anything in return.

“You don’t even know what I am to you, yet you need me?”

“Bucky…” Your voice trails off as his hands glide further up your legs, past the crooks of your knees and along the sides of your thighs. When both of his hands reach the curve of your ass, he begins pushing the hem of your dress up around your waist. The silence is deafening.

He wasn’t planning to be so rough with you, but as soon as his eyes land on the tiny black thong that was previously hidden beneath your tiny black dress, his hands start functioning on autopilot. A low groan rumbles past his lips as he pulls your panties to the side with his vibranium hand and shoves two fingers into your cunt, without a single breath of a warning.

“BUCKY!” You cry out, arching your back and trying to pull away from him. He moves his vibranium hand to grip your left hip, holding you firmly in place while his fingers are still buried knuckle-deep within you. Giving you little time to adjust, he begins sliding them in and out, in and out, giving himself a chance to feel how wet and tight you are for him. Fuck. It’s going to test every bit of his resolve and self-discipline to get through what he plans to do to you tonight.

“That’s it, say my name.” He encourages you, pumping his fingers in and out at a steady pace. When he leans in and attaches his lips to your clit, you fist the bedding in both hands and squeeze your eyes shut. Breathy moans and curses fall from your lips as his tongue circles over the most sensitive part of your body, all while his two fingers are curling inside of you. You’ve never been one to go careening toward an orgasm with little-to-no effort, but Bucky is skilled. That familiar knot is twisting tighter and tighter in your lower stomach as he relentlessly toys with your pussy. He can tell you’re already close to your first orgasm of the night, and as much as he wants to withhold it until you admit that he means something to you, he wants to see you come undone for him even more.

“Bucky, I’m close.” Your voice is breathless, all of your energy is focused on actively denying yourself of your release. For the briefest second, you wonder why your body won’t just go ahead and cum, but then you realize that you want his permission. You want him to tell you to let go, to cum on his fingers and lips. Bucky fucks his fingers into you a little harder and deeper, reaching a spot that has your eyes rolling back in your head and your toes curling. Another loud moan from you has Bucky digging his vibranium fingers into your hip with enough force to leave bruises. He knows you’re right on the edge, and it takes him only a second to figure out why you’re not letting go. He pulls his head back for a moment but lets his fingers continue their work.

“Do you want to cum for me, baby?” He asks. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice that sends heat rushing to your cheeks. You nod your head fervently and he chuckles at your neediness. “Who gets you this wet? This desperate for release?” Fuck.

“You, Bucky.” You moan out your response as he pulls his fingers nearly all the way out and slides them back in at the slowest pace yet.

“Who else?” He demands to know, picking up the pace once again.

“No one, only you.” Your answer is honest and it earns you his mouth back on your clit. He sucks and licks at it like his life depends on your impending orgasm. He gets you right back to the edge within seconds, before breaking away from your clit momentarily just to say cum for me. Your orgasm washes over you in an instant, your pussy clenching down on his two fingers as you unintentionally grind against his mouth. He flattens his tongue against your clit and lets you take everything you need. After a few more seconds of immense pleasure, the legs and arms that have been so dutifully holding you up are threatening to collapse.

“What am I to you?” Bucky repeats his question from earlier, but still, your answer is the same.

“I don’t know.” Your voice is quieter now, weaker since the first orgasm took so much energy out of you. Bucky shakes his head, though you can’t see him from your current position. He didn’t think you’d have a better answer after just one orgasm, but he’s going to give you a chance after each one anyway.

“Lay on your back.” Bucky commands. You do as you’re told. As you finally make eye contact with him, he can see the thankfulness in your gaze. You were getting tired of holding the same position. Bucky steps forward and places one knee on the bed, his hands sliding up your thighs. His fingers snag along the waistband of your thong before he begins pulling it down your legs. You bend your knees to make it easier, and he slips it off gently before dropping it on the floor with your heels and his clothes. He climbs onto the bed now, your legs instantly spreading to let him between them. He crawls over your body and the new sensation of his warm skin against yours is delicious. You wish he would’ve taken your dress off already. When you feel the outline of his hard cock, still covered by his boxers, pressing against your wet, sensitive cunt, your eyes flutter closed and your legs instinctively wrap around his hips. You’ve always been a sucker for this, for having him pressed against you so close yet not close enough. It’s always made you a bit feral and Bucky’s fully aware of that. A knowing smirk spreads across his features as he puts a little more weight into your position, pressing his cock against you a little harder. When you open your eyes and look up at him, he has to remind himself that he can’t just give in a fuck the shit out of you right now. He has an end goal.

“Why do we still have clothes on?” You ask, referring to your dress and his boxers. Bucky chuckles lowly starts circling his hips against you, drawing a soft hum from your pretty lips. He dips his head down and starts leaving light kisses along the side of your neck. He knows that’s a weakness of yours too, his mouth anywhere on your skin. It’s one of the first tactics he deploys when he wants to fuck but he isn’t sure if you’re up for it or not.

“Do you want our clothes off?” Bucky breathes the question against the skin just below your earlobe and you find yourself having trouble concentrating. He can feel you nod, but he doesn’t actually give a damn about what you want right now. He’s not a monster though, so he’ll give you half of what you want. He pushes himself off of you in one swift movement and stands on the floor beside the bed. You turn your head to watch as he slides his boxers down his legs and kicks them off. They join the pile that consists of the rest of his clothes, your heels, and your thong on the floor. When he returns to his position on top of you, you stick out your bottom lip in a pout over him not removing your dress. He’s quick to lean in and suck that bottom lip in between his teeth, biting down on it lightly before slipping his tongue into your mouth. He always tastes so fucking good, though you can never pinpoint what he tastes like. It’s just him. Honestly, you’d let him spit in your mouth if he wanted to.

Bucky kisses a lot like he fucks, with so much passion that it makes your heart race and your mind reel. It makes you think about how mediocre every other kiss with any other guy was, about how kissing was just a minor part of foreplay until you started kissing him. Now kissing is everything. Your hands travel up his sides and settle on either side of his face as you fight to deepen the kiss. When you suck on his tongue, he groans into your mouth and pulls back. You love the way his lips and nose get pink when he kisses you like that.

“No more kissing.” Bucky rasps. You let out a whine that makes his cock twitch. He loves hearing how needy you are for him, but it’s especially enjoyable when he hears how needy you are just for him to kiss you. He starts grinding his now bare cock along the folds of your pussy with just the right amount of pressure, focusing his efforts on your clit. He probably should’ve used his mouth and fingers again for this one, because he’s far too close to cumming just from feeling how wet you are against his shaft. His cock collects your wetness more and more with each thrust of his hips, and for a second he thinks about just letting the tip slide in. He won’t do it though, not yet. He won’t put his cock inside of you until he’s ready to make you cum for the third time.

“You’re being a tease tonight.” You pout, letting your hands find his hips and using your grasp there to pull him harder against you. He stills himself and you let out a frustrated sigh. Why isn’t he giving you more?

“You’re being greedy. You already came once, you should be saying thank you.” Bucky retorts, pushing himself up with his hands and sitting back on his knees between your legs. Your eyes are quick to zone in on his cock, just as his flesh hand is wrapping around it and giving it a firm stroke from the base to the tip. God, you’ve always loved seeing him touch himself. He doesn’t do it in front of you often. Normally the two of you are quick to get down to business and just fuck, but there have been a few very memorable times where you get to see him stroke his cock right before he guides it inside of you. Your tongue darts out, wetting your bottom lip, and for a second Bucky imagines that same tongue all over his fucking cock. No. This isn’t about him tonight. This is about finally making you see what’s been right in front of you all along.

“Please.” The word leaves your lips so softly, so gently, that Bucky’s hand hesitates around his length. He’s never heard you beg before. You’ve never had a reason to, he always gave you what you needed, before you had to ask. A dark feeling settles within his chest as he realizes he likes it.

“Please?” He repeats the word, as if he doesn’t understand the meaning. You see the way his gaze changes from one of lust to one of pure desire. He wants more.

“Please, Bucky. Fuck me.” You give him the most innocent look you can muster up as you lay there in his bed with your pussy exposed and nearly dripping onto his bedding. He tightens his fist around the base of his cock and scrunches his eyes closed, clearly trying to talk himself down from blowing his load way too fucking soon. If he sits there and looks at you any longer, he won’t last, he won’t be able to make it to his end goal tonight. The only thing he can think of to keep himself on track is something that’ll easily obscure his vision of you.

“No, you’re going to sit on my face.” He says roughly, positioning himself on his back next to you. He looks over at you impatiently, he almost looks offended that you’re not already changing positions for him. You’re quick to sit up and swing a leg over his torso, straddling his chest but not making any contact with him yet. “I said my face, sweetheart.”

“I know, but—” You’re about to point out that he’s already eaten you out once tonight and you haven’t even had the chance to reciprocate, when he abruptly grasps your thighs and pulls you over his head. “Fuck.” You mumble the curse word out as he easily pulls you down, your cunt making contact with his mouth as he dives in. You can’t form a single thought as his tongue delves into you. He fucks you with it almost as thoroughly as he did with his fingers just a few minutes ago, thrusting it in and out while your clit brushes against the tip of his nose. His hands slide back to grip your ass and you have to brace your hands on the headboard to keep from putting your full weight on his face. He can feel your resistance and he hates it. He lifts you up an inch just to chastise you.

“I said sit on my fucking face, not hover over it.” He pulls you down again but this time he brings his right hand in to rub harsh circles against your clit as his tongue continues its work on your entrance. You’re panting and breaking out in a sweat within a few seconds. You still haven’t fully sat on his face, so he’s going to give you one more punishment and see if you’ll give in. His vibranium hand moves away from you and the swings back once more, slapping your ass so hard that you fall forward a bit, your cunt landing firmly against Bucky’s mouth. He hums against your pussy in approval, and the sound sends vibrations through your core. Fuck. You’re going to cum a second time and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. When he sets just the right pressure and pace with his flesh fingers on your clit, and his tongue starts lapping into you like eating pussy is his fucking career, your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Your chest is heaving and your knuckles are turning white as your death grip on the headboard threatens to bruise your palms.

“Fuck, I’m cumming. Oh my god, Bucky!” You cry the words out so loudly, yet your voice sounds so far away in your own ears as your orgasm short circuits your entire nervous system. After a few seconds, you realize you’re grinding lazy circles against Bucky’s mouth, and he’s letting you. “Shit.” You mutter, using all of your remaining strength to try to dismount his face. He grasps your thighs to stop you, and then places a long, gentle kiss right against your clit, sucking on it in the slightest bit as he pulls back. Then, he lets you go. You collapse on the bed next to him, your breasts threatening to spill over the low-cut neckline of your dress from tonight’s activities thus far.

“What am I to you?” Bucky asks a third time, rolling onto his side to face you. He gazes at you with a much gentler expression than earlier as he brushes a few loose strands of hair away from your face. He thinks you look so damn perfect like this. You always glow after sex, but after two orgasms you could be mistaken for the fucking sun.

“Bucky…” Your voice trails off as you desperately search your brain for the answer he’s looking for. He obviously doesn’t want you to say that he’s your fuck buddy, and maybe he isn’t. You probably shouldn’t feel as jealous as you do when he ends up on missions with Sharon instead of you, that’s not very fuck-buddy-friendly of you. You also probably shouldn’t hate the few minutes after sex when he’s catching his breath in bed while you’re pulling your clothes on, hoping he won’t be annoyed with how long it takes you to get out of his apartment. Maybe you’re more than fuck buddies. But still, you don’t know what to call it. “I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure.” Bucky repeats slowly, as if he’s tasting the words. His facial expression remains gentle, but the light in his eyes darkens. “Take off your dress.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You push yourself up and sit on the side of the bed before pulling the dress over your head and letting it fall to the floor. You haven’t even had the chance to lay back down when he starts moving to sit right behind you, letting his legs come around either side of you so your back presses against his chest. Ah, you see where he’s going with this. The wall that you’re both now facing has a tall standing mirror, giving you the perfect view of your naked body in front of his in the dim light of his bedroom. “Look at yourself.” Bucky coos, cupping your chin with his flesh hand and tilting your head up the tiniest bit. “So fucking pretty.”

His words have you blushing for some reason. Of all of the times you’ve been naked in his bed, you don’t recall him ever saying sweet things to you just for the sake of saying them. Maybe he thought them, you wouldn’t know, but he sure as hell never said them. It sends a wave of warmth throughout your body, and your already pink-tinged cheeks take on another layer of blush. With almost no effort, Bucky places his hands on your hips and pushes you up to a standing position. He then tucks his legs between yours and then grips his cock in his hand. He gives it a few slow pumps before angling you above it and then guiding you to sit down. Right on his fucking dick. The moan that leaves your lips as your head falls back against his shoulder could’ve come from amateur porn. The penetration feels as if it’s happening in slow motion, as you take one-fourth, then half, then three-fourths, and then…his entire fucking cock inside of you.

“That’s it, baby, all of it.” Bucky begins peppering kisses across your neck and right shoulder, but his eyes are locked on the mirror, staring at where the two of you are connected. “Whose fingers make you cum?” He asks, as his right hand skims down your side, straight to your clit. He uses his middle and ring fingers to start gently massaging your already-sensitive clit. You lift your head to meet his gaze in the mirror.

“Yours.” You answer quietly, slowly beginning to slide up and down his length. You’re only moving an inch at a time, not yet adjusted nor ready to fuck his cock how it deserves to be fucked.

“Good girl.” Why does such simple praise from him make you feel like you’re having a mini orgasm on the spot? Jesus. You start fucking half of his cock now, lifting yourself up and then sitting back down, but not daring to pull off anywhere near the tip. “Whose mouth makes you cum?”

“Yours.” You say again, a little louder this time as the pleasure begins building low in your stomach once more.

“That’s right, you’re doing so good for me, baby.” Bucky picks up the pace with his hand. His work on your clit is making stars flash in your vision and your pussy continuous clench around his cock. “And who do you let cum in this perfect little pussy? Huh? Who does this belong to?” He asks, his eyes once again drifting down in the mirror until they land on where his cock is disappearing inside of you. He groans as you sit fully down on it again.

“You, Bucky.” You moan, now fully adjusted to his thick length. You start bouncing on it, unable to control yourself any longer. Bucky’s having none of that. He quickly slides his flesh hand up your stomach, between your breasts, and wraps it around your neck. He isn’t choking you, he’s merely gaining your full attention with an authoritative move. You freeze, your eyes locking onto his in the mirror as you sit there with his entire length inside of you.

“I’m going to fuck the shit out of you, and then I’m going to cum inside you so fucking deep that you might end up pregnant.” His filthy words give you as much pleasure as any touch, any kiss, any physical thing he could ever do to you. Your pussy tightens around him at the promise that he’s just spoken. “Now tell me, why would you be here right now, letting me do that? What am I to you?”

“Everything.”

Finally, you gave him the right answer.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu #bucky barnes x you #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky barnes smut #smut #mcu smut #marvel smut #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

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strawberrysturniolo · 4 months

Text

jealous // fwb!chris

summary: your friends with benefits, chris, sees you with another guy at a party and takes you somewhere to remind you who you belong to warnings: smutty af so if you don't like that, get lost! semi public sex, fem!receiving

Chris Sturniolo and I made a pact a few months ago.

He helps me get over my ex, and I keep him busy.

This pact was all about us getting something — sex.

When we first met, I was in a long term relationship with a guy who didn’t have his head on straight. Chris was proudly single, but in desperate need of sex.

After a night of crying and confusion, I tried something I never thought I would bother with.

I texted Chris and asked him to come over, both of us knowing damn well what the other wanted.

We had sex all night, sometimes waking the other up with our mouths all over each other, sometimes with his dick lining perfectly with my pussy when we cuddled that it would be a sin for us not to finish the job. The next morning we vowed that we would keep hooking up, only if we promised that it was just sex, and there were absolutely no feelings involved.

I wasn’t too thrilled to hear about some influencer party that Chris was going to. I didn’t care that he had a life around girls, and I didn’t care if he was into them. What I cared about was him putting his dick somewhere without letting me know, and me suffering the consequences of him transferring something to me.

I was even less thrilled when my best friend, Nick, invited me as his plus one. Don’t get me wrong, anywhere Nick goes, I’m usually there too, but the whole LA party scene is not my thing at all. I can last about an hour before I'm tapping out and wanting to be home.

He begged and begged and I caved, leaving me to stand in front of my closet to search for an outfit.

My phone chimed on my bed.

Chris: Why am I only just now hearing that you’re coming tonight?

Me: 🤷🏻‍♀️ Black lingerie or white?

Chris: Come over.

Me: Can’t. Uber is getting here soon.

Chris: Cancel it.

Me: See you at the partyyyy

After Ubering and searching for the way into the building, I pulled out my phone to text Nick in hopes of finding him. Before I realized, a familiar hand slid across my back, finding my waist and turning me around.

Chris’ smirk was the most prominent feature on his face. “Hey pretty.”

I had to stop my stomach from flipping at the compliment, the nickname he has attached to me lately. It’s hard not to fall for him when he says shit like that.

I try to act unbothered for the sake of keeping my sanity. “Where’s Nick?”

Chris’ head dips in a certain direction, pointing to Nick through a crowd of people. “I’m here though.”

I nod once. “I see that.”

“You wearin’ this for me?”

His eyes linger down my chest, focusing on the mesh material that leaves little to the imagination. A black mini skirt hugs my hips, inviting Chris’ hands to my waist. I suck in a breath before pushing his hands away.

“Not here,” I warn him in a whisper.

“Then let’s find somewhere,” he suggests immediately, his urges showing.

It takes everything in me to push his hands away and search further for my friend.

As the minutes pass, I find myself sticking close to Nick, nodding along to any conversation that he is involved in. He makes socializing look so easy, taking control of everyone in the room in the best way. Meanwhile, I look lost next to him.

In hopes of liquid courage and something to hold onto instead of picking at my fingers, I head back to the bar, ordering a vodka red bull - something to keep me feeling comfortable, but hopefully keeping me awake and not yawning in everyone’s faces. The last thing I want is for Nick to feel bad about inviting me, and for everyone else to think I’m a bitch.

Seconds later, I’m trapped in a conversation with someone I really couldn’t care less about. Some model talking about his work, clearly trying to impress me. The sad thing is, I know he’s trying hard to make me swoon, but this is what happens at every one of these parties. He’s not flirting with me because of anything I have to offer. He’s simply trying to make himself look good.

I try to pay attention to his words, but out of the corner of my eye I’m able to spot someone’s glare from a mile away.

Chris stands fifty feet from me, his jaw clenched and his eyes glaring at the man in front of me.

Suddenly, I’m interested in this model.

My hand trails up his arm, earning a satisfied smirk from him before he steps closer, his thighs brushing mine. I don’t even have to be looking at Chris to know his reaction to that action — he’s charging over to us.

Before I have time to suggest us leaving this spot to get away from Chris, he’s already squeezing between us.

His nose is inches from mine, and when they brush, I find myself thinking about last night, his nose rubbing my clit while he ate my pussy.

“Who’s your friend, baby?”

My eyes could burn holes in his. I don’t know if I’m more mad that he’s doing this right now, or embarrassed that I was so zoned out that I don’t even remember this guys name. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t bother telling me.

When Chris doesn’t get a response from me, he turns over his shoulder. “You can go now.”

With one look, the nameless guy I was talking to vanishes. I smack Chris’ chest. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

“Me?” He responds with a surprised tone. “You’re the one rubbing all up on guys in front of me. You expect me to just sit back and do nothing?”

“Yes!” I shout, walking away. His hand on my wrist pulls me back to him. “I’m not yours to claim, and you coming up and stopping me from talking to any guy you see is fucking pathetic. You and I fuck. That’s it.”

I watch as Chris’ mouth curves to a grin. What now?

“You’re right, we fuck,” he agrees, but his fingertips tracing my thigh in front of everyone send shivers down my body for more than one reason. “And right now I’m thinking about pulling this little skirt around your hips and bending you over a sink.”

Shit.

I can feel my legs getting tighter, and I struggle to stand up straight.

He dips his head to my ear, whispering to me. “If I pulled your panties aside, how wet would you be for me?”

I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out.

“Would you be ready for my cock, or do you need me to stretch your tight cunt out with my fingers?”

My breathing starts to falter before I can bother controlling it.

Chris stands up straight looking at me and noticing every change in expression. He wraps an arm around my shoulders, and starts walking me to the bathroom. “I know baby, let’s take care of you.”

I’m unable to form words. He continues to say quick hello’s to everyone he sees while I stand at his hip like a poor puppy. I give in to him so fast every time. It’s embarrassing, but can you blame me?

We make it to the bathroom, and after he locks the door, he turns around and leans on it, his arms crossed as he stares at me.

“You know I don’t like it when you talk to other guys in front of me,” he warns.

“I’m allowed to talk to other guys. We aren’t together.”

“Not when you’re dressed like that.”

“So now you have an issue with how I dress and who I talk to? Anything else I should know of?”

“I have an issue with you dressing in a mesh shirt and a mini skirt when you aren’t mine to claim, yes.”

“Well that’s stupid.”

“Is it?”

This is a losing battle. As much as I try, it’s obvious how bad I want him.

I need him.

He notices the switch flip in me. He knows exactly when I give in without me having to say a word.

His arms uncross and within seconds they’re wrapped around me, lifting me to sit on the bathroom sink, yanking my underwear down to my knees. He ducks his head underneath the fabric, yanking me by my thighs a few inches so he can have easier access to my dripping pussy.

He groans at the sight of me struggling without him touching me. “Such a pretty pussy.” His fingers grip the sides of my thighs, digging so hard I’m sure it’ll leave marks. He places a wet kiss over my dripping cunt. I shudder at his touch, and quickly grip his curls as he starts licking harshly over my throbbing clit.

“Fuck, Chris.” The words come out in a pathetic whimper, but they only encourage him to do more.

His hands spread my legs further before the tip of his tongue fucks me. My moans are uncontainable, and I can feel his smirk growing as I struggle to contain myself.

I can feel Chris trying not to put his hands everywhere on me. The last time we fucked in a public setting, he emphasized that he did not want to put his hands anywhere near my pussy in case there was anything gross lingering on his hands. The animalistic strokes of his tongue on me are a confirmation of his ideas. The harsh movements of his tongue on my clit have me shuddering, gripping his hair as tight as my fingers will let me.

“Tastes so good, baby,” he mumbles against my thigh, staring up at me before licking up my inner thigh, back to my clit. His head starts to move more with every swipe of his tongue until he’s making out with my pussy.

Chris never fails to prove that eating me out is his favorite part of this whole friends with benefits situation. While he loves burying his dick in me, there’s nothing he loves more than tasting me and watching me falter as he pleases me with his mouth.

My back arches and my thighs close around his face, brushing across the light stubble growing on his cheeks. “Chris, I’m gonna cum.”

He yanks my underwear down until it’s completely off, stuffing the pair of lace panties in his pocket and wrapping my legs around his waist. As he unbuttons his pants and rubs over himself through his boxers, he mutters, “Can you cum around my cock for me, baby? Be a good girl and wait for me to tell you, hmm?”

“Uh huh,” I nod. Any sound leaving my mouth sounds like a cry for help.

The outline of his throbbing dick is prominent as he strokes himself over his underwear. “Stop wasting your time with the other guys and you can have me whenever.”

I don’t have a chance to argue back with him. His dick is in his fist, red and throbbing. His tip is leaking like he’s been holding back from fucking me since I walked in this place. He strokes himself a few times, finding pleasure in it by the way his head falls back. Before I get the chance to offer anything to him, he spreads my legs back open with his knee and rubs his tip over my clit.

A weak moan leaves my lips and I’m unable to stop myself from begging for more.

“Please, Chris,” I whine, watching as his lips part as he watches himself tease my entrance.

“You have me baby.”

I almost feel my heart expand, but I’m cut off by the abrupt motion of his dick pushing into me, stretching me out until he’s buried deep and I’m completely wrapped around him.

He stares down at us in awe. “This pussy was made for me.”

I nod, at a loss for words.

He thrusts harshly. “Whose pussy is this?”

I wince. “Yours.”

“Tell me,” he demands with his teeth gritted.

“FUCK – Yours, Chris. It’s yours.”

“Good girl,” he says proudly before slamming his hips back into mine. Every thrust is sharper than the last. His pace is steady, but it all changes when I wrap my legs around his waist with no intention of letting go.

He lifts me off the counter, holding underneath my thighs. His head rests on my right shoulder and I can feel him looking at us in the mirror. He pushes my skirt up further, revealing my entire ass. He slaps it harshly, making me groan.

“You love it, don’t act like you don’t,” he teases.

I nod.

“Tell me,” he says as he slaps my ass again, harder this time.

“Shit, I love it, Chris,” I admit, the words flying out of my mouth. “I love it so much.”

His hands hold underneath my ass, his hips driving up into me. Every thrust has a slapping sound following, and after a few minutes of a steady pace, I can feel him speeding up.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans into my neck. “I can’t hold off anymore. You gonna cum with me?”

I nod, whimpering against him.

“Words, princess.”

“Yes, Chris. I’m almost there.”

As he presses closer to me and fucks me in his arms, I can feel myself going limp. My clit is throbbing and has been all night, and being this close to a release is enough to make me feel like I’m falling.

“Chris.” My hands grip his hair tightly, like I’m going to lose him at any second.

“I got you, baby,” he assures me. “Cum around me. I’m right here with you.”

I feel myself convulse around his cock, earning a string of pornographic moans from him before his pace slows down, his hips burying themselves against me as he pumps his cum inside my pussy.

“Ohhhh god,” he moans. The sound has become my new favorite thing.

He carefully sets me on the ground, letting my feet find the floor before he lets go and kisses me softly, the first kiss we have shared all night. He adjusts my skirt, smirking at the evidence of him on my legs, dripping out of me.

“Do not wipe any of that up,” he tells me, a seriousness in his tone that I’m not used to. “I want you to walk around this party with my cum dripping out of you, and if you even try to let anyone else flirt with you, that’ll be your reminder of who you belong to. Got it?”

I nod, trying to find my balance before leaving the bathroom with him. At this point, most of our friends know what we are, and if they didn’t, they were sure as hell gonna find out now.

I spent the rest of the night with Chris at my side, rubbing my legs subtly or making snide comments about how I was full of him still. I knew what I wanted, but some of him was better than none.

#matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic

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mondaymelon · 4 months

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first time in this account lol Idk if you're taking requests but I saw that post some minutes ago and... Idk, wanted to request something lol, if you didn't do it yet! What about headcanons with a reader who doesn't show physical attention until some years of knowing them? Like, they know each other for about 5 years and just then the reader decides to do some small act of physical affection... I wanted the headcanons to be with Childe, Arlecchino, Wanderer and Furina! If you can <3

₊˚ෆ 𝐈𝐅 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔… | childe, wanderer, arlecchino, furina x gn!reader

( childe's part might be a little ooc. havent done that part of the archon quest yet cries. also mwah arlecchino we love her in this household !! )

[ You were always someone who wasn’t fond of physical attention. Fleeting touches and kisses to the cheeks were never your forte, yet what should happen if the lover you’ve had for years is suddenly on the receiving end of such affections? ]

"physical affection... ah- it's okay if you can't show that to me, there's plenty of other ways to tell that you love me!"

CHILDE was the one to say those words to you, and the held the most certain truth. You were his lover, and a hug or two couldn't sway the fact! While the harbinger is quite the puppy and often yearns for your warmth, he'll respect your boundaries and allow you whatever. A lover like Childe places your happiness as a priority over his, wanting more to see your eyes sparkle than his own.

"Love, you wouldn't believe what happened in the courthouse today." You glance up from your spot where you're curled up on the couch, snuggled into a fluffy blanket and holding a warm drink in your hands, one of Inazuma's light novels sitting on the armrest. You hear the door to the two of you's home shut and lock, and listen to... Childe's footsteps. How strange, is he stumbling?

Glancing up, you internally gape at the cuts on his body, your eyes instantly drawn at the red splattered across his features. "'Taglia, what hap-"

He lets out a dry chuckle, grinning sheepishly as he rids his shoes at the door. "No worries, the blood isn't mine. Most of it, at least. I managed to get out of there in time, so all's well, yeah?"

As if that'd provide you any comfort. You narrow your eyes, glaring at him unyieldingly, until Childe has no choice but to force out another tasteless chuckle. "Come on now, I'm home, so let's do something fun instead of just being mad at me, 'kay?"

"Tartaglia."

The man flinches, his deep ocean eyes rounding. When you call him that and not his nickname, he knew that he had landed himself in deep shit. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry." He says that, but the sentence rounds up in a change of his tone, sounding almost suspiciously like a question. "It won't happen aga-"

The world itself seems to stop.

Your head is buried into his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. Archons, can you hear how fast his heart is beating? You've made him into a complete and utter mess. He's blushing, his ears practically on fire, and any thoughts once in his brain have been seared away in single second. It takes him to the count of three to remember how to breathe once more, his chest erratically heaving up and down as his shaking arms wrap around you hesitantly, wondering if it'd be okay to do so.

"...Love?"

"Mhm?"

"I- I thought you-"

"If it's with you, I'm okay."

Oh, how those words tug at his heart. You look so perfect in his arms - yes, you looked simply perfect all the time, he'd admit in a split-second. The messy nest of hair atop your head when you woke up in the early mornings, the dark bags under your eyes when you didn't sleep until late at night, your smile, your laugh, even your scowl. It silenced any effort to not fall in love with you.

A smile tugs at his lips. A bright one, a warm one, if that was even possible. Perhaps his eyes are shining with tears, or perhaps it was merely a trick of light, but he holds you all the closer, not wanting to let you go.

"Love, I... Archons, I don't think I'd be able to love anyone but you." ₊˚ෆ

"..great. i don't want your filthy hands on me anyways, so there shouldn't be a problem, hm?"

WANDERER's words were just that, would it kill him to be a little nicer? It didn't matter... you knew your lover well, or at least well enough to tell that what he said wasn't the complete truth.

Sure, you had seen him shrug off and make expressions of disgust directed towards particularly touchy people that he'd become somewhat acquainted with. And you most certainly had witnessed his frustrated outbursts and rants when he returned home to your shared abode, whining and grumbling about any trivial error someone had made - that is, brushing fingers with him while passing him papers. Something that couldn't exactly be avoided, yet he had glared at the wall for a good amount all the same.

Ah, but then there were moments when he thought you weren't looking, and that was when his eyes would drink you in. Grazing over your eyes, to your lips, then to your hands, where'd they linger on your fingers for perhaps longer than they should.

And you'd catch the times where you were inclined to say something flirtatious - words that were never all that flirtatious in the first place, Wanderer just happened to be unusually susceptible. Chin resting on your hand, eyes staring into his, you'd say something about how pretty he was, and then he'd just about go into neurogenic shock, likely not speaking to you the rest of the day, the tips of his ears, if one squinted to a certain extent, pink.

"Love." You glance up at him, a slight pout fixed on your lips. He'd been immersed in minor tasks, and those pesky things were what stole his attention away from you. An ironic twist of fate, as you were usually the one to be drowning in work, and he'd be the one practically begging for affection.

He hums, yet doesn't even bother to look at you.

"Do you want to go for a walk?"

"No."

"Go get something to eat?"

"No."

"Visit the... House of Daena?"

"No."

"Shall we feed the finches?"

A slight pause. "...No."

"Then... let's hold hands?"

He froze at your words, and it seemed that the male lost the function of inhaling, for he sat there unmoving for what seemed like hours, his expression petrified in its form of his large eyes, raised eyebrows, and mouth slightly ajar.

"...Excuse me?" It seemed that he doubted his own ears, for he set his work aside and fixed his focus upon you, fingers trembling just the slightest.

"Hmph, have you suddenly forgotten how to think?" You frowned, yet your eyes curved into crescents all the same, and Wanderer felt his breath hitch at how ethereal you were. The sly fox you were, you took his moment of shock, settling by his side and intertwining your fingers with his. "Like this, is it not?" You were smiling now, and for the first time you glimpsed the red on his ears, but now on his face too, a rosy red descending upon his cheeks.

"What's..." Perhaps you were right. His vocabulary had suddenly dwindled, and now he had nothing but questions - that, and the growing warmth in his chest. "What do you think you're doing right now?"

Whatever attempt he had to sound "mean" had failed. You knew him too well for that. "Holding hands, what else? Your hands are cold you know-" And at that he flinched. "But it feels nice."

D...Did it really?

"You, no... love, let's stay like this. You're... warm." ₊˚ෆ

"when you sought me, i thought it'd be a serious matter. there's no trouble in it, truly, so there's no need to look so dejected."

ARLECCHINO hadn't even batted an eye. Was there a reason to? Yes, this certainly crossed off any thought of romantic couple things like kissing and hand holding, but it wasn't like she'd gasp dramatically and fall to the ground, blaming you for setting boundaries-

As if she'd ever. Your imagination was running wild today, perhaps it was the lack of sleep finally catching up to you? It was a stark contrast compared to Arlecchino, who went days without rest, shuffling through paper after paper on her desk and constantly relaying messages to her subordinates. She was a hard worker - a trait most easily overlooked, but it was a point of adoration for you. A point among many. Arlecchino was an easy person to love, despite the bristling thorns she'd show at first glance.

"Darling, a cup of tea, please?" Her gaze flicked up from her work to you, a thin smile decorating her lips. It was more a less a habit the two of you established - that is, pouring her tea. Her favorite cup was the one you had gifted her when you first started your relationship, shaded in a dark hue and embellished with roses, their blooms, petals, and thorny branches spreading across the expanse of porcelain. You placed said cup on her desk with a breath of satisfaction, tilting you head in questioning at the unusual amount of papers on her desk.

"Arle, did something happen?"

She merely chuckled to herself, her eyes shining with delight. "Ah, why don't you wager a guess?" You were her "subordinate" of sorts, although your true association was far more intimate. You knew of her plans with Fontaine, and helped carry them out. She revered your loyalty, but your warmth far more.

"...Has the hydro gnosis been secured?"

She snapped her fingers in one swift motion, her small smile widening into a true one that played across her ruby lips. "Correct, I'd expect nothing less of someone as capable as my lover."

"Then, Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet..."

"They've done well." It'd be hard to forsake the note of pride in her voice. Setting down the sheets in her gloved hands, she stood from her seat slowly, letting her eyes scan over your body. "You've asked your question, now shall I ask mine? Darling, I did quite well myself, did I not?"

Her expectant gaze read one thing, but instead of the usual quality time spending the two of you'd share, this time, you had rather differing plans. Smiling, you walked up to her, not letting the way her eyes sparkled just the slightest escape your sight. Promptly, sneakily, you flung yourself upon her, beaming as your hands found refuge winding about her torso, nearly instantly trapping her into your death hug. "You did, Arle~!"

"..." At her silence, you glanced up, only to be met with a sight that drew blush upon your own cheeks. Her usually composed, mystery-shroud features were now conflicted with crossing emotions... of what, however, was rather indecipherable. Arlecchino was a person of many masks, yet now it seemed that her "mask" displayed but one thing - love.

"Darling, I... you look perfect in my arms, so shall we stay like this a moment longer?" ₊˚ෆ

"is that so? a trivial matter, is it by law that i must hold you in my arms in order to prove my love for you?"

FURINA's multicolored irises and teardrop pupils twinkled, their shine dancing on the moonlit breeze. A hand daintily held a teacup, its fragrant contents swirling about the porcelain basin. Her laugh accompanied the cool evening wind, and she fluttered her eyes shut in a smile that brightened her expression. "Come now, why so shocked? Wouldn't this be expected from someone as benevolent as I?"

It was a scene that would remain forever painted in your mind, like a beautiful mural that one's eyes could not possibly forsake. The way her mouth tugged upwards and the manner in which her eyes curv-

"Hey, are you even listening to me right now?" A familiar voice tugged you out of your reminiscence of the confrontation months prior. Furina displayed a childish frown on her lips, her partly furrowed eyes sharpening her gaze into a rather particular one.

Oh, lost in thought once more. You let out a soft sigh, nodding sheepishly. "Yes, love, I am.."

"Mhm..." Your words left a no, you clearly aren't!" Furina sat up, her intensifying discontentment apparent on her features. "I said I got you access to front ticket seats to the hottest new court case! You know, the one involving the robbery... the one that's quite literally got the entire Steambird in a chokehold? Yet, you're not excited in the slightest!?" She sounded offended, and she likely was, for her cheeks were flushed the slightest in rash frustration and her narrowed eyes creased at their corners. "Appreciate my efforts, why don't you?"

"Appreciate" indeed.

Ah, but was a sudden, tight embrace overshooting it? For she tensed in your arms, her frame absolutely suspended in your hold, her slack jaw giving the slightest tremor. "Mon amour, just w-what are you-?"

"Come now, Furina, am I not permitted to hug my own lover now?" The jesting in your voice faded as the sarcastic grin on your face formed a smaller, more genuine one. "I'm... ah, I'm okay, if it's with you. I'll be okay."

She paused at your words, contemplation of them flashing in her gaze, and let out a gratified exhale. "Then..." she nearly melted in your embrace, leaning her head into your arms compliantly.

"Don't you dare think I've forgotten about your previous transgression, but... ah, it can be forgiven, can't it, mon amour?" ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) hc hc hc hc furina calls youfrench petnames because french oui oui baguette.. AHEM my sincerest apologies to any french or french speakers...

REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! please consider following me as i amm soosososoo close to a follower goal ive been wanting to reach and itd be crazy if i could reach it before christmas!!!

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader

-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶

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chappellroansdreamgirl · 22 days

Text

ellie with a mean gf!

(prjoecting like a mf rn...)

a/n - i have been very unmotivated to write full-fleshed stuff so i'm deciding to write drabbles/headcannons for now. also THANK YOU FOR ALL THE ATTENTION ON CH.1 OF GOOD LUCK, BABE! it makes my heart smile that you guys love it so much... also😭😭...: @sweetcici11 srry that i lied and said ur fic would be out a few nights ago. i'm really trying to finish it but i don't want to rush it and it be shitty. i really want it to be enjoyable and as good as it can be. but i PROMISE you it WILL be posted... sooner or later! i also have a few more drafts to finish too, so, i hope you guys like them when they come out!!!!!

content warnings - fluff, i'm a bitch and i want to feel loved and think that someone can put up with my cuntiness😝😝 , over-usage of commas probably, i think they're low-key kind of toxic?!?!?!?! , guys i promise i'm not this bad i've just been pretty insufferable these last few days and need an outlet 😭😭 .

i wrote way more than i thought i was going to...

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- you both hated each other at first. ...well actually, you hated her, and she was like, "😞😞" and then got used to it after a while and started being mean back 2 u!!

- dina introduced ellie to you when you both were hanging out with her. "you guys are going to love each other🥰!" ... you didn't 🤗 !

- ellie said hi to you and all you did was look her up and down, stare at her for a few seconds and then turn your head.

- everytime ellie would (attempt to) strike up a conversation you would give an overtly enthusiastic response or just stare at her like she had two heads or just blatantly ignore her. dina is over there like, '😟😟 . can we not have one good day...' when dina would leave for short periods of time and ellie was sure that you didn't like her, she would just talk about anything to get your blood boiling, our girl lllloooovvveessss to push buttons, we know this to be true.

- it got worse yet more tolerable after that. whenever she'd see you at gatherings or parties, you'd do your damnest to stay away from/avoid her. and she'd do her damnest to get you as upset with her as possible. it always ended with not-so-playful not-so-friendly banter!

- you were talking with jesse about something on the couch, and ellie came over and DELIBERATELY, DELIBERATELY... interrupted you 🤗 ! :

you shoot daggers at her face with your eyes, your jaw set hard and your eyes narrowed.

ellie tried to feign innocence, raising a brow at you after she looked over to see your facial expressions long after she felt them.. "what are you looking at me like that for🤨🤨?" , "i was fucking talking, you're being rude." , "if i have to get used to you being a bitch, you got to do the same." , you just huffed at her response and crossed your arms before walking off a few minutes after, realizing that the conversation you were having with jesse earlier was indeed over. ellie smirked to herself, victory was her's!

- she started calling you the nickname brat out of the blue... it blindsided tf out of you. here's the origin story!:

you look at ellie with a disgusted look on your face as she exhales smoke. her glazed over eyes meet yours before she offers the joint to you, out of genuine kindness. "want a hit?" she asked, forgetting how much of a bitch you were for, like, 0.2 seconds. you glare at her for a moment longer before plastering a sarcastic smile on your face, snatching the joint from her fingertips and dropping it onto the floor. you kept her eyes on yours as you stomped and smushed it into the ground.

now she remembered.

she stood up instantaneously, she was pissed. "what the fuck?!" she shouted, earning a few looks from some friends across the room. they strained their necks for a little bit before they saw you, it made sense now, and then turned back to the conversation.

you close your eyes for a slight second as a satisfied smile graced the corners of your lips. "you know i don't smoke, ellie." you responded with in a condescendingly sweet voice.

she didn't even argue with you. "you're such a fuckin' brat." she muttered under her breath before walking away. you had to try your very best to ignore the heartbeat in your pussy. (🤗!)

- she didn't get to see how much effect that title had on you that night, but she noticed afterwards.

- one time you didn't say anything to ellie during a hangout, distracted by someone you disliked more than her. ellie kind of missed it☹️☹️ .

you were brought out of your thoughts when you felt her cold hand touch your shoulder. when you noticed it was her who was doing it, you pulled back with a furrow of her brows. ellie smiled. there she was.

"you haven't said one mean thing to me since i've gotten here. are you dying?"

you scoffed as you pointed in the direction your anger was radiating from. it was a girl ellie saw here and there in jackson, sometimes she was paired with her during patrols, she wasn't crazy about her but she paid no mind to her existence.

"what?- what does this have to do with me-"

"what it has to do with you, is that you should feel honored that i can tolerate you... can't fuckin' stand that bitch."

ellie scoffed before speaking up once more, "oh, c'mon you're being dramatic. don't be a brat."

your eyes went wide for a second and as you turned away, she could see the cheek that was facing her turn an embarrassing shade of red. she found your weakness.

- when you guys started dating, no one, and i mean NO ONE, believed it. (i don't feel like writing how u two got together maybe if y'all like this enough i'll make a full-fleshed oneshot abt it😭.)

- joel saw you guys together... like, not arguing, and HER head on YOUR shoulder... he thought he got laced with acid for a quick second there... jesse felt like he missed a couple chapters and felt very sad that he hadn't caught onto it quicker... and dina was so proud of herself, "told you, you guys would love each other 😁." she's so smug, I LOVE HER!

- she constantly has to reprimand you like you're a child when you guys are around someone you obviously don't like for whatever reason. once whoever left the room, ellie'll pinch your shoulder or your thigh, whatever skin is on display at the moment, not too hard, just to get you to wince a bit. you'll make a face at her afterwards. "ow, what the fuck was that for ellie?" , "we can talk shit when we get home, don't make a scene🙄." you stress her out sometimes...

- just bcs you guys are together DOES NOT mean your attitude has gone away.

whenever ellie and you have gotten in an argument, you're always being extra sarcastic and EXTRA BITCHY just to get on her nerves.

"baby, have you seen my gun?" she asks you, breaking the silence voluntarily as she's two minutes from being late to patrol.

you don't look up to her, you keep on looking at the pages of an old magazine. "idk ellie, did you check to see if it was shoved up your ass."

she just stands there for a second like this 🧍‍♀️ , before sighing and walking somewhere else to find it. "i'll fuckin' deal with you later." she mutters under her breath, obviously annoyed. you smirk to yourself as you flip another page.

- she does love, however, that you've gotten gentler with her since the relationship blossomed between you two. very few people (dina and ellie... sometimes jesse.) can get you to stop, and ellie is proud of herself that she could add beast-tamer to the top of her list of many skills and talents.

- sometimes she has to calm you down, sometimes all it takes is a stare in your direction. ... well, it's oftentimes a glare... you're your own woman/person and a relationship will not restrict you from showing off your talents!!!!!

- ellie has to constantly keep you from getting into arguments that could harm you physically. although your craft of bitchery is amazing, you can't fight to save your life.

she'll be pulling you back like an angry barking dog on a leash.

"i could've fucking took h-" , "you overestimate yourself a lot, baby."

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sunrizef1 · 8 days

Text

The Alchemy

Pairing: Logan sargeant x singer!reader

Warnings: Cursing

Authors note: recently realized that every time i include Logan in a fic, he gets points. That is me manifesting xx Not edited, ill edit later. Very loosely based on the alchemy by Taylor swift. This album has me in a chokehold. Also!! Tysm for 1k, I’ve been trying to think of something to do for that xx

Word count: 7.6k (took way too long, thanks Tay)

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“Do you want to go to the f1 race in Miami? Ferrari invited you.”

Your head snaps to your publicist who tilts her head with a questioning look on her face. You set your guitar down, putting an end to your idle strumming. It rests on top of your notebook filled with random lyrics and doodles.

“I didn’t know I was allowed to do that,” you reply, laying back onto the couch you were sat on, shifting to sit in the seat more comfortably.

Your publicist, Aimee, rolls her eyes at your response, clicking away quickly on her phone, “I mean, you’re one of the biggest stars in the world, you could technically do whatever you wanted. It’s just never been in your image to go to sports or whatever. But everyone is gonna be there.”

There it is, the real reason you’d be allowed to go to a race was to be amongst the famous people that Aimee would, no doubt, want you to mingle with. Mingling wasn’t your strong suit.

“Ill think about it,” you give her a tight-lipped smile which she hums in response to, sliding out of the room without another glance at you.

The second she's gone, you collapse against the leather couch, eyes locked onto the ceiling of your studio.

The real reason you wanted to think about going to the race wasn't because Aimee only wanted you to go to get good pr but, instead, it was because of your own personal connection with one of the drivers.

You'd met Logan a year ago at the previous Miami Grand Prix. Noone knew you were there and you had intended to keep it that way before you ran into the driver.

You got in fairly easy, Mercedes VIP pass wrapped around your neck. You were close friends with Lewis who promised he could get you in and out with it still remaining a secret. You had your jacket hood up above your head, hair pulled back away from your face and a pair of sunglasses resting on your nose.

You hadn't thought about how many people you knew would be there. Your eyes stayed trained on the ground for the most part, hoping that it you didn't look up, no one you knew would notice you.

Because you weren't looking where you were going, you didn't see yourself run straight into a taller figure, landing against his hard chest.

Both of you stumble back a bit from the impact and you immediately open your mouth to apologize to the man in front of you but when you look up, the words die in your throat. Your eyes trace the features of the blond man, soaking up every little detail of his pretty face. You can tell he's muscular through his blue t-shirt and your breath catches slightly.

He's speechless when he sees you as well but for a completely different reason. You may not have been in your flashiest clothes or have your usual makeup or hair but anyone with a brain could recognize you if they actually bothered to look. Your music had been everywhere for so long and Logan would be lying if he said he hadn't had a crush on you for the longest time.

When you look up at his face and see him gaping slightly in an attempt to make sure you're actually you, you grasp his hand and start to pull him along before he can blow your cover. You pull him along until you reach a quiet corner, quickly pushing him away from the eyes of other people.

He leans against the wall behind him, crossing his toned arms across his chest and you find yourself gazing again.

“So,” he starts, voice filled with humor, “What is Americas sweetheart doing at a Formula 1 race... Undercover?”

You roll your eyes but cant help the grin that starts to form from the mans words, “I'm not actually supposed to be here.”

“Oh and that's why I got dragged into a dark corner?” the man asks, grin splitting his pretty face.

You laugh but don't catch the pleased look on the man's face, “Yeah, sorry about that. Didn't want anyone to, I don't know, mob me or something.”

“I get it,” when he says it, you can't help but believe he really does get it for some reason. For all you knew, this man might just work PR for…you glance down at his t-shirt to check, Williams Racing!

“Well, thank you for cooperating…?”

The man raises his eyebrows at your questioning tone, “Logan.”

“Thank you for cooperating Logan. I know a lot of people that probably would've fought me for grabbing them like that.”

Logan laughs, head leaning back against the wall gently as the noise leaves his throat, “Its no problem. Are you in the Mercedes garage today?”

You nod at his words, glancing back out to make sure the both of you are still hidden from the outside, “Lewis said he could sneak me in.”

“He didn't do a very good job, then. If I found you out,” Logan grins, leaning away from the wall.

“Maybe not. But you're not gonna tell, are you?” you tilt your head teasingly at the blond, eyes crinkling with the weight of your smile.

He laughs again, sticking his pinky out between the two of you, “I won't, pinky promise.”

You giggle and Logan decides its the only noise he cares to hear from now on. You stick your hand out as well, wrapping your pinky around his and the two of you just stand there for a second, gazing toward the other.

But eventually, both of you seem to remember that there were time-sensitive events about to happen just about 10 meters from where you're stood. You break away from him, smile stuck on your features.

He walks away first, his grin replicating yours. He turns toward you as he walks away, pulling a hand up to wave goodbye slightly as he slides out of the corner.

“See you later, y/n,” he smirks before disappearing from view and something in you tells you you will be seeing him later.

You hurry to the Mercedes garage, having told Lewis you were there 15 minutes ago. He ushers you into his drivers room, telling you that you could chill there until the race started, only a slight bit of concern for your previous whereabouts written on his face. You don’t tell him you think you’d just fallen in love with some random teams random employee, deciding that was a bit too off topic for the currently rushing Lewis who was practically running around his room trying to get his stuff together. He wasn’t stressed since he was, of course, Lewis Hamilton, but this was the most frazzled you’d seen him

“Ill be back before the race starts,” Lewis nods toward you while he opens the door, things clutched in his tattooed hands.

“Have fun, Lew!” you call out, collapsing against his couch the moment he leaves.

You pass the time scrolling through your phone, scribbling random lyrics into your notes app and trying not to fall asleep. Lewis comes back quick enough, sneaking you into the garage with your hood pulled tightly over your hair and sunglasses sat firmly on your face.

No one spares you a second glance and if they do, they know better than to question Lewis Hamilton.

Your eyes are drawn to one of the screens above you, the drivers all stood out in a line together for the national anthem and your eyebrows raise when they land on a certain blond man. Right in front of your eyes, Logan is stood in Williams blue and white next to his teammate as the national anthem plays behind them.

Oh, that cheeky bastard.

Well, at least you now knew where to find him after the race. When the race starts, you try your hardest to stay focused on the Mercedes and cheer for Lewis but you can’t help but let your eyes trace the path of a certain blue car instead.

When the race ends and Logan’s in p8, you find yourself anxiously waiting for Lewis to get back so you can dip. You bounce passively on your heels, fingers picking at the fraying edge of your jacket. The Miami sun beats down relentlessly, making sure you stay safely in the shaded garage.

Lewis gets back quick enough, having not been on the podium this race. You give him a quick hug and a congratulations, telling him you’ll text him if you ended up wanting to get dinner later. You didn’t give him a concrete dinner plan since you had a feeling you’d be busy later.

You practically sprint out of the garage in your effort to find Logan before he leaves, missing the confused look you leave on Lewis’ face as he watches you run.

You honestly had no idea where the Williams garage was but when you see the familiar blue, you stop in your tracks outside the exit. You lean on the wall just outside the door, hoping no one will see you as they leave.

A driver in orange passes you, Oscar maybe, giving you a perplexed look as he walks by. You just dip your head farther, hoping he didn’t recognize you. Or worse, think you’re some kind of stalker.

But before the kid can call any security or ask you for a picture, a familiar laugh sounds out as someone opens the door next to you. You glance up and see Logan exiting and you reach over and grasp his wrist. Logan looks up to see you, his infinite smile seemingly stretching even wider as he see your concealed state.

“Hi, y/n,” he laughs dopily, abandoning whoever he’d been walking out with. You glance over his shoulder to see Oscar with his eyebrows furrowed and you pray any of his concern had disappeared when he saw Logan’s positive reaction.

“Hi, Logan,” you smile back, pulling him away from the garage and hopefully away from anyone at all, ending up in a corner not dissimilar to the what you had pushed him into earlier that day, “Congrats on the points. Can’t believe I thought you worked PR or something.”

He grins again, carding a hand through his sweaty hair. Your eyes trace the fireproofs he hadn’t taken off yet, trying not to ogle the muscles under the shirt.

“Thanks, I’m pretty sure both parts of those are compliments?” your eyes snap back to his and away from his chest. You can tell from the smirk on his face, he had noticed your stare and you try your best to control your blush.

As you two stand in the corner quietly for a moment, you’re surprised when Logan’s the one to break the silence.

“Do you want to get dinner later?” Your eyebrows shoot up in shock at his confidence but they quickly settle as you smile softly.

“I’d love to.”

Logan grins once again, shoulders obviously relaxing at your response, “My phones in my room… or I’d get your number.”

You laugh slightly as he leans back against the wall behind him, his own blush covering his cheeks as you giggle.

“I’ll go with you,” you state simply, shrugging your shoulders and watching as his own eyebrows raise.

“You sure?”

You laugh as he leans closer to you, “yeah I’m sure, Logan. I’ll give you my number and you can send me dinner plans and we can have a great time. Celebrate your win.”

“I didn’t win,” Logan’s face looks somewhere between a grimace and a smile. His hands moved to wrest against his hips. Right where his race suit was also sat.

“You got points. Close enough to a win in my book,” you shrug, smiling big.

Logan laughs loudly, head leaning back against the brick wall behind him and your own laugh joins his, creating a chorus of joy that wasn’t to common on these parts of the paddock.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll text you then. Come on, I need to shower,” he says to you, returning the previous favor by grasping your wrist in his and pulling you along to his drivers room. When he starts walking, you slide your wrist out of his grasp and intertwine your fingers instead, pretending not to see the grin that splits his face.

When you get to his room, you quickly put your number in his phone before exiting. As much as you wish you could’ve stayed, you had places to be and if you were going on a date, you'd need a few hours.

Logan texts you the minute you're in the car back to your place and you grin stupidly at the words on your screen, texting back quickly.

The date goes well, Logan being a perfect gentleman the whole time. He had picked a nice steakhouse he had no doubt been to a couple times growing up, considering you knew how he’d grown up. You had definitely not pulled his Wikipedia up the second your feet hit the floor of your room.

He sips his wine passively, much more interested in the stories you were telling about being on tour and the time one of your backup dancers had accidentally hooked up with one of the drivers. He offers to cut your steak for you and you let him, simply because none of your ex’s would have ever done something as small as that. He reads the dessert menu to you, asking the waiter for a second fork when you order the chocolate cake despite your objections about having your own slice. You both laugh but you shake your head when he offers to get a different piece. He picks up the bill despite your protests, sliding his card into the check and handing it back before you can even attempt to grab it from him. Then he walks you back to the car, arm around your shoulders as you try not to trip in your heels. When he drops you off, he moves to walk away from your doorstep but you’re quick to grasp his wrist, pulling him in and slamming the door behind the both of you.

That had been a year ago and you were still in love with Logan.

A year of Logan sneaking you in and out of the garage and a year of coincidentally scheduling tour shows to line up with race weekends. You’d released two albums about him. Not even your own manager knew who the songs were about. The only person who knew about the relationship was Lewis, who figured it out pretty quickly when you didn’t text him to get dinner that very first night. He was actually quite helpful in getting you in and out of the paddocks all across the world. He was pretty private to begin with so no one asked him many questions about where he was sneaking off to.

It’s not that you didn’t want to world to know about your relationship. It’s more that it was nice to have something you loved be private for once. Every boyfriend you’d ever had was inevitably mobbed by fans every time they stepped outside. Not that you were too empathetic. Half of your ex’s were contractually obligated to date you by your agency and the other half just sucked as people.

Logan was the first boyfriend you truly loved and got to choose to be with every day. Also, if your agency found out you’d secretly been dating someone and sneaking around for a year, you’d never hear the end of it and you’d probably get dropped for breach of contract, or whatever.

You didn’t tell anyone else on the grid. You would've but Logan dissuaded you after telling you that none of them could keep a secret for their lives.

So, the second Aimee left the room, your first calls is to Logan.

“Hey baby,” Logans voice echoes across the phone. You can hear a bit of exhaustion in his voice and recall him telling you he was about to work out, “Whats up?”

You can't help the heat that rises to your cheeks at even his simplest words, “Hey, are you free to talk?”

“Yeah, yeah, just finished working out with Benny,” He replies, and you car hear the beep of a car unlocking and the door opening before closing, “Everything okay?”

You hum, shifting in your seat, “Yeah, I'm fine. Aimee just asked if I wanted to go to the Miami gp with Ferrari.”

There's a few seconds of silence from Logans end of the phone before he responds, “Do you want to?”

“It’d be nice to go and not have to hide in the back of Mercedes,” you sigh, weighing the pros and cons, “But I don't want to go with Ferrari.”

“You can't pick the garage?”

“I’ll try but I feel like Aimee will just stick me in whatever garage she wants me in,” you sigh again, sinking dejectedly into the couch, “Not sure I'd get much of a choice.”

“I’d love to have you there,” you can hear the slight smile in his voice and you laugh warmly despite your previous annoyance.

“Ill try and convince her. I'll see you there Logan,” you smile, sitting up in your seat. You fiddle with a piece of your hair, glancing around the small room you're in. You weren't super confident you could convince Aimee but if Logan wanted you there, you'd try your hardest to get in the Williams garage.

Logan laughs, “See you there, babe. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Logan hangs up and you smile, tossing your phone down next to you. You're quick to pick it back up though, texting Aimee to ask if you can be in the Williams garage instead.

When the day of the Miami GP arrives and your stood in the Williams garage, its as much of a surprise to you as it is to everyone else. You had spent the past month trying to convince Aimee to let you sit in Williams instead of Ferrari. She had spent the past month telling you that it’d be better for your image to be in Ferrari.

You hadn't told Logan you’d be in his garage since, until that morning, you didn’t know you would be. You weren’t initially sure what made her change her mind but when you entered the garage and saw several celebrities almost more famous than yourself, it made sense. Of course she’d only agree to get you to be seen interacting with more a-listers. Jokes on her, though, because instead of staying in the garage for the next few hours, you decided to walk around. You were actually hoping to find Lewis in something other than a dark corner for once.

On the other side of the paddock, Logan had ended up in Ferraris hospitality after Oscar had dragged him along to meet up with Lando who was meeting up with Carlos who was meeting up with Charles who was meeting up with Max. So, in the end, Logan felt out of his element.

He chair sat slightly away from the others as they all talked about Miami, a place that Logan honestly didn’t have much to say about anymore. Maybe if someone asked, he’d say something. But he honestly wasn’t feeling it. He’d be more enthused if you were stood in his garage instead of Charles’, cheering him on. But, no, Aimee had you stuck in the red and yellow.

“Did you guys hear that y/n l/n is here?” A Spanish accent rings out from across the little circle of chairs, causing Logan’s head to snap up.

Lando’s head shoots up as well, eyes locking onto Carlos’, “You’re kidding! I love her!”

Carlos nods his head at the Brit, grinning widely, “Yeah, I heard some engineers talking about her earlier!”

Max snorts, shaking his head in disbelief, “If she was here, one of us would’ve seen her already. She’s not in either of our garages,” Max gestures between him and Charles who’s sat with an agreeable look on his face, nodding at Max’s words.

“I’m gonna ask around. If she’s here there’s no way I’m not giving her my number,” Lando laughs, already looking around for someone to interrogate. Logan has to hold himself back from rolling his eyes. Although it was weird Charles hadn’t seen you. Maybe he’d just left before you’d arrived.

“You sure she’s even single, mate?” Oscar asks the brunette man, laughing slightly as he turns around toward the Aussie with a smirk on his face.

“She hasn’t been seen with anyone in like a year and a half and there’s definitely no shortage of men in love with her. I’m about to jump on that before anyone else here snatches her up,” Lando laughs again, standing up from his chair quickly almost as if he’s about to sprint out but suddenly Lewis appears beside the little group, catching Lando before he can.

“What are you guys doing?” Lewis asks with a raised eyebrow, eyes surveying the group before they stop on Logan. Logan glances away from the older man quickly, choosing instead to stare at the ground.

“Talking about y/n l/n. Apparently she’s here and Landos so in love with her that he’s about to sprint out and find her. I’d want her number too but Lando seems more passionate,” Carlos laughs and Charles nods along with a grin. Lewis’ eyes land back on Logan with a small smirk gracing his features.

“Yeah but we’re not sure she’s even here, we all think she would’ve been in one of our garages if she was here,” Max continues, gesturing toward his fellow drivers. Logan has a sneaking suspicion he meant every garage beside Williams.

Logan grins again, pushing Lando softly back into his seat. Logan can feel the man’s gaze on his lowered head as he respond, “Well, she’s is here. She’s in the Williams garage.”

With that, Logan’s head snaps up to meet Lewis eyes and the eyes of all the other drivers move quickly toward Logan who’s too busy looking at Lewis to sink under their piercing gazes.

“She’s looking for you,” Lewis nods at Logan who’s quickly to stand from his seat, six pairs of eyes on his back as he turns away.

“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath as he starts to walk away from the group, his movements quickly turning into a run.

Back in the little circle, Lando sits with a pouty look on his face while everyone besides Lewis sits with incredulous looks on their faces. Lewis sits proudly, a small smirk on his face. Oscar is the one to break the silence.

“What the fuck just happened?”

Logan reaches the garage quick enough, hearing whispers of your name echo between engineers and PR workers alike, all mumbling about your surprising presence in the garage.

He jogs lightly over to Alex, slinging an arm around the taller drivers shoulders. The man turns away from the conversation he was having with Lily, furrowing an eyebrow at the weirdly exhausted American.

“What’s up mate?”

“Have you seen y/n?” Logan says through labored breaths, eyes tracing every corner of the building in search of a sign of you.

Alex shakes his head, glancing back toward his girlfriend, both with matching confused looks on their faces, “Nah mate, apparently we’ve just missed her.”

Logan groans dramatically, sliding away from Alex and moving toward the exit once again, correctly assuming you must be looking for Lewis. Alex turns back to Lily whose confusion mirrors his.

“What was that about?”

“No idea.”

Logan’s once again jogging through the paddock in search of you, praying he gets there before Lando can thoroughly weird you out or flirt enough to give you trauma.

His heads bowed to shield himself from the Miami heat so he doesn’t see himself run straight into someone. He reaches out to catch whoever he’s just thrown toward the ground and when he looks up he’s met with your pretty face. He’s honestly never been more relieved to see someone.

“Hi,” you smile softly as he leans you back to standing, arms still wrapped gently around your torso.

“Hi,” he laughs, out of breath from his jog. You both stand and stare in each others eyes for a moment, adoration in the air between you.

“That felt quite familiar,” you break the trance, laughing as his arms finally move away from you in order to keep a little decorum.

Logan barks a laugh, hand moving to run through his blonde hair as he glances toward the ground abashedly, “Yeah, except this time, you’re not pulling me into a dark corner.”

You glance around at the bustling people around you, realizing how little you cared about people seeing you interact. A weight feels like it’s been lifted off your shoulders at the fact you don’t have to hide your conversations around here anymore. It actually felt quite freeing.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you reply, smiling as sunlight hits the side of your face, eyes not catching the loving stare Logan is sending your way as you bask in the Miami sun.

Logan grins, eventually pulling you away from the sun as he grasps your wrist. You lean into his side slightly, keeping a reasonable distance for people to think you’re just close friends. You’d already talked about how mad your agency would be if they found out you were dating. So you both agreed interactions in the paddock would be kept to platonic.

But as much as you tried to keep them so, you could only do so much. It was hard to keep the love out of your eyes as you stared at Logan, eyes tracing the side of his face. Anyone with eyes could see how gently he held you, with all the love and care in the world.

As you arrived back at the Williams garage, Logan kept walking and pulled the two of you back into his room as quietly as he could. Shutting the door gently behind him. As soon as the doors closed, your hand is wrapping around the side of his face and pulling him down to meet him in a gentle kiss.

He smiles into it, arms wrapping around your shoulders as you walk the two of you back to the couch, both flopping down onto it. You lean back against the arm rest as he lays against your chest, the exhaustion of a race weekend finally catching up with him.

“Go to sleep baby,” you say quietly, fingers carding through his sun-bleached hair, “You’ve got more than a few hours. I’ll wake you up when someone comes to get you.”

Logan hums half-heartedly, eyes already closing as he shifts to sit against you more comfortably, sleep quickly overtaking him. You scratch his head passively as he sleeps, almost petting him as if he was a golden retriever. You slide your phone open, mumbling lyrics and rhythms under your breath. You mange to type a few verses into your phone with one hand, occasionally having to pull your other hand away from his head momentarily. Every time you did, though, he’d shift in his sleep and your hand would go right back.

It’s a few hours of this before anyone comes to disrupt his nap, the door sliding open without a knock. Your eyes catch Alex’ and you quickly raise your hand with a shushing motion, gesturing down at the man sleeping on top of you. Although, Alex seems more preoccupied with your presence than Logan’s sleeping state, mouth dropping open as he takes in you and his teammates predicament.

“The team needs Logan, they’re about to start getting ready,” Alex manages to spit out, eyes still bouncing between the two of you. You nod, moving one hand to tap at Logan’s face lightly. The man groans through his tiredness, eyes cracking open slowly.

“Teams getting ready, they need you,” you smile down at him. He glances up at you with a small smile, eventually rolling off of you to stand up with a yawn.

Only then do his eyes catch on his teammate stood by the door, shock and confusion lacing his figure. Logan just waves slightly, drowsiness still fogging his mind. Alex blinks, arms frozen to his side.

When Logan grabs his stuff and steps out of the small room, stopping to give you a kiss on his way out, Alex finally snaps out of his haze.

“What the hell, man?” Alex manages to spit out.

Logan yawns as he walks by his teammate, a hand reaching up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, “Huh?”

Alex splutters through his words incredulously, “Why were you sleeping on top of y/n l/n? One of the biggest stars in the world was just hanging out in your room!?”

Logan hums, running a hand over the lines that had appeared on his face during his nap, “That’s my girl, man.”

Alex stops in his tracks, eyes wide and mouth dropped in shock, “What!?”

Logan rolls his eyes at his teammates dramatics, dragging him along next to him and also gesturing for Alex to keep his volume down, “Yeah, we’ve been together for a year and a few months.”

“Mate, what? She’s released like 3 albums in that time,” Alex starts before he seems to come to a realization, eyes snapping back to Logan again, “Oh my god, is reputation about you!?”

When Logan concedes and nods in response, a grin break out on his teammates face, “What about Lover? Or nonsense? Or espresso? Oh my god, so many of her songs must be about you!”

Logan holds back his annoyance, blaming his exasperation on his quite recent wake up call, taking a moment to remind himself that Alex was just surprised. If this had been any other day, he’d take any chance to talk about how cool you were or how much he loved you. But after everything with Landos crush and the boys thinking you’d only ever been seen in their garages, he was honestly annoyed. Not at you, of course, just at how everyone was acting without any tact.

“Yeah, come on, the team needs us,” Logan yawns, dragging his teammate down the hall, the latter still with a stupid grin on his face.

You stepped back into the garage again eventually, eyes scanning the parts of the garage you hadn’t seen before while hidden in the corners. Of course, the Williams garage was completely unfamiliar. But you hoped it wouldn’t be unfamiliar anymore after today.

You can feel the cameras and questioning glances on you, wondering why you’d be at an f1 race, let alone Williams. Everyone thought you’d be in Red Bull or Ferrari or at the least, Alpine, since several of your athlete friends had invested.

You’re not sure what the rules are for drivers going into garages that aren’t theirs but you’re ninety-nine percent sure Lando wasn’t supposed to be here. It didn’t help that he seemed to have dragged Oscar, Max and Charles along with him.

“Oh my god, y/n l/n!” You hear the Brit call out first, giddiness lacing his words. You glance over to see the four drivers approaching, turning your gaze back to the team momentarily to check if this was allowed. There’s uneasy looks on their faces but none of them move to kick them out so you turn back to the quartet.

“Hi?” You smile with a raised eyebrow and you swear you see Lando blush. Oscar rolls his eyes as the older driver starts dramatically fanning himself.

Charles is the first person to respond normally, sticking out his hand as he leans toward you, “It’s nice to meet you, we’re big fans. Some of us obviously more than others.”

You laugh as Charles side-eyes Lando who responds by sticking his tongue out. Their interactions made sense considering you were pretty sure half of them never graduated high school. You reach out and shake Charles’ hand before dropping it as Max reaches out his own.

“I’m Max, not sure how much you know about F1,” Max states, tilting his head. If only he knew just how many races you'd been to.

You nod your head with a small smile, ignoring the way Lando is staring with a dopey look on his face, “Yeah, yeah, I've actually watched a lot of races, so I've seen you win a lot haha.”

Max smirks slightly, shaking his head. Lando frowns as Oscar elbows him and mumbles something under his breath, “She’s never seen you win, mate.”

Your head snaps toward the drivers in papaya as Lando practically tackles Oscar, putting the Aussie in a headlock. You tilt your head toward Charles who’s watching with a frown but makes no effort to separate the pair, “This happen a lot?”

He hums, nodding his head, not taking his gaze away from the thing 1 and thing 2 now on the ground in front of you, “Yeah, they’re like puppies, got to let them get their energy out somehow. No ones been seriously maimed. Yet.”

You snort, finally looking away from the idiots as you hear someone walk up behind you, Charles and Max, the latter turning around as well.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” The commanding voice of the Williams team principal rings out, causing the two mclarens to halt their movements, immediately separating as they stand up.

James surveys the little group for a few moments and you look over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of blond hair before it disappears.

“Now,” James starts, scanning the drivers in front of him, all in varying colors of team shirts, “I could probably get you all in trouble for being in my garage but since I’ve heard a lot of excitement about our guest today, I’ll let it slide.”

You looks back to the man in front of you when you hear a mention of yourself, skin heating as several pairs of eyes all look to you. You look away and back to where you’d seen Logan, hoping for a quick escape. You find him but you watch as he makes eye contact with Lando before turning away as quick as he can. Lando, on the other hand, shoots a hand out to point at the driver, moving forward toward him.

“Logan!” He yells as the aforementioned driver turns away, making himself busy with pretending to be helping Alex, “I need to know what he did to get you in his garage!”

Lando gestures at you before moving to walk past you. He only makes it a few steps before James is stepping in front of him, pushing the lighter man back slightly, “I actually believe you will all be going back to your own garages, yes? It’s almost time for the race.”

Lando frowns with a suspicious look on his face, planting his feet firmly in the ground beneath him as if challenging James to move him. Oscar rolls his eyes before grabbing the brunettes wrist and dragging him out of the room, waving slightly at Logan as he exits.

Charles and Max both wave at you as they leave but Max is the one calling out, “Nice to meet you, y/n.”

You smile at the pair, waving them goodbye. You sigh as you turn around, tiredness filling your face. James stops you before you can stalk off to your seat for the race, hands grasping your shoulders lightly.

“It’s nice to finally meet my drivers girlfriend,” there’s a knowing look on the man’s face and you open your mouth to respond but he beats you to it, “He didn’t tell me. But I saw you two in the hall earlier, the boy had love written on his face, it would’ve been hard to miss.”

You blush, looking down toward the ground with a smile, “Thanks Mr Vowles, it’s nice to meet you as well.”

James laughs, ruffling your hair as he leans away, “Have a fun day, kid. Maybe you’re his lucky charm. And you can call me James.”

You smile as you walk away, smoothing your hair back to place. You weren’t too annoyed by the antics since it was pretty windy anyway, your hair had already been going wild.

“Thanks, James. Good luck, today.”

He just nods in response before slipping away, no doubt to get ready for the race. You turn to talk to Logan but he’s already been swept up in the chaos of the pre-race so you leave him to it, finally making it to your designated seat for the day.

It’s not long before it’s lights out and away we go.

P3. P fucking 3. Logan had just gotten a podium.

You don’t think you’d ever screamed as loud as you had when he crossed the line. Luckily, Alex’ girlfriend, Lily seems just as excited as you, jumping up and down as the team celebrated around you. Fortunately, Alex had had a good race as well, finishing in fifth.

You didn’t bother wiping the tears that were falling from your eyes, too busy trying not to fall over in your expensive heels as Lily dragged you to where the team was meeting at the barriers. Sun shines brightly down on you all, painting your faces with a warming light. Williams employees revel in joy from all around you, pure happiness gracing their usually joy-deprived faces.

The crowd seems to part as you and Lily make your way to the barriers, grasping at each other tightly, trying to make sure this was all real.

Tears stream down your face, no doubt taking your mascara with them. You have to gasp for air more than a couple times, pure elation taking over your breath. You watch as the blue car rolls in front of you, slowing to a stop. Lily hugs your arm tightly, already having heard about your relationship from Alex. You see Alex’ car out of the corner of your eye but you’re too busy trying not to collapse.

Logan steps out of the car, hands visibly shaking. You can practically see the smile through his helmet as he stands on the nose of his car, the crowds of Miami cheering for their hometown hero.

He jumps down and moves to take off his helmet, gloves coming off with them. He glances around at the crowd above him, taking in the moment he gets to be the hero for once, gets to be revered. But his eyes do move away, tracing the crowd for his team.

When his eyes land on yours, another tear slides down your face and drops off into the warm concrete below you. His grin in that moment could move mountains, filled with enough pure joy to heal any aches and pains you’ve ever felt. You can’t look away from his child-like joy, having never seen him this happy in your entire year of dating. His eyes widen with a warmth you wish you could find a way to stay in forever, almost rivaling the warmth of the Miami sun.

Someone from race control tries to get him to go get weighed but he’s dropping his helmet before taking off in a run. He reaches you and before you can even say a word, he’s grasping your face in his hands and leaning down to put his lips against yours, melting into your embrace.

Screams echo around you but all you can hear is the words Logan whispers as he breaks away, leaning his forehead against yours, “I did it, baby.”

You laugh, leaning toward him as he reaches a hand up and wipes away your tears, “Yeah, you did. I’m so proud of you!”

Logan smiles, closing his eyes momentarily to take in the love between you, “Thank you for coming, I love you so much, baby.”

You tilt his head up to catch his lips in another searing kiss, hoping he can feel just how proud and in love with him you are, “I love you too, so, so much.”

You’re both just grasping at each other, praying to be able to simply hold each other for as long as you can before someone pulls him away. Unfortunately, that comes sooner than you’d hoped as someone from race control pulls him away to get weighed. You finally break from the trance he’d put you in, looking around to see Charles and Max staring at Logan as he walks in front of them, glances shared between the pair in p1 and p2.

Lily wraps an arm around you as Alex walks away from her as well and you lean your head on your shoulder, watching as your boyfriends talk after getting weighed, obvious congratulations and pats on the back being shared between the two.

You knew this would make Aimee mad, but you honestly couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were too busy being young and in love. You could always find a different agency, you were in high demand after all.

Logan’s stood to the side with Alex when Lando walks up, eyebrows furrowed deeply as he surveys the Williams drivers.

“What the hell was that, mate?” Lando calls out to Logan, confusion creeping through his outward disapproval.

Logan laughs at the Brits face, sensing a bit of disappointment in the McLaren drivers demeanor, “The podium?”

Lando rolls his eyes, running a hand through his curls, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Logan laughs again as Alex throws his arm over the younger drivers shoulder, preparing to steer the two of them to interviews, “Just kissing my girlfriend, mate. Nothing else to it.”

Lando seems to be even more confused as the Williams drivers walk away, although he does eventually manage to shout out a final sentence, “How’d you manage that!?”

Logan practically cackles as Alex snorts, knowing as much as he did that it was a miracle he had pulled you, “I’m not sure either!”

They do eventually make it to interviews and then podium, Logan sending a heart down at you with his hands before Charles and Max turn to him, champagne in hand. Logan stands there and takes it, Miami sunlight bounces off the rivulets of alcohol that cascade across his tanned skin, still hot with the warmth that had infected him during the race.

The next morning, you don’t remember much from the night before. You had gone out to celebrate with Logan and of course, it was Miami and you were known so it wasn’t too hard to find the best spots. Drinks flowed and music pumped and you’re pretty sure you were hanging out with pitbull at one point.

Logan was still asleep in your bed in your Miami home, shirt missing and a distinct smell of beer sticking to his skin. His hair was ruffled and random pieces of glitter floated around his skin. His shins were hanging off the edge of the bed and random marks littered his exposed back, scratches and bruises, no doubt your fault, painting his usually blank skin with hues of red and purple. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been more in love with him.

You slide from the bed quietly, moving toward your guitar as a sudden bout of lyrics plagues your mind, begging to be released. You strum passively as you sit out on your balcony, humming lyrics under your breath as Logan remains asleep soundly in your bedroom.

“Said it’s still reserved for me … who are we.. fight the alchemy?”

A month later, Logan’s entering the paddock, his phone clutched tightly in his hand and headphone covering his ears. He’s making his way to his garage when he’s suddenly bombarded by the same five drivers from Miami, all talking over each other.

“Calm down, one at a time, please,” Logan sighs, waiting for them to quit speaking at the same time. They all stop, Carlos being the one to speak first.

“Have you heard the new y/n song?” Carlos asks, eyes raised widely. Logan laughs as he asks it, sliding his phone open to Spotify, proudly showcasing your new song playing on loop.

The Alchemy - y/n l/n

Logan slides his phone in his pocket, walking away before Lando can wax poetic about you or complain about Logan stealing you away from him. Logan glances back to see Oscar covering Landos ears as the song starts to play from a nearby speaker. Logan laughs as Charles, max and Carlos do the opposite of helping by deciding to sing it loudly in the Mclaren boys face.

Alex watches his teammate walk up, pulling off his headphones to find the song also playing the garage. Alex laughs, leaning his head back in content, basking in the pure happiness radiating through the atmosphere this weekend.

“Good song,” Alex hums, cracking an eye open to see a wide grin split the younger man’s face.

“Thanks man, it’s about me.”

Alex laughs, leaning back against the chair he was sitting in, watching as Logan sways to the song, lips moving to the words no one else had had time to learn yet.

Alex closes his eyes again, letting the rhythm of the song and Logan’s hums take over his hearing. He wasn’t sure about your relationship at first but he honestly hoped you’d stay together just so he could see Logan this happy every weekend.

You, on the other side of the world, were listening to the song at the very same time, singing the lyrics to yourself and dancing to a song Logan had been hearing for the past month non-stop.

As you danced along, you just knew Logan was out there somewhere, dancing with you.

———————————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

#scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smau #logan sargeant x fem!reader #logan sargeant x you #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargent fluff #fem!driver!reader

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holybibly · 4 months

Text

IT'S YOU |Woosan x reader| Part II

Part I If you haven't read it

Genre: smut, from friends to lovers!au, college!au

Word Count: 9.4k

Summary: Sometimes drunken decisions lead to the most unexpected results and the most shocking confessions. Or, after your boyfriend cheats on you, you propose a threesome to your best friends and it might just be what they have always wanted.

WARNING: only!18+ unprotected sex, Dom!San, Dom!Wooyoung, Sub!Reader, fingering, choking, degrading, pet names, spit kink, manhandling, threesomes, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, overstimulation and more.

Tag list: @staytiny816 @woosmaid @jiminssluttyminx @liknws @pearltinyy @haebaragisworld @bts-iris @bleachpolaroid @wisejudgedragonhairdo @ginger-coffee-addict @pricessthings @rockstarsanie @lilmackiee @minaizum1 @shotahime @vixensss @meljoongiee @ivsjake4evr @love-me-a-little @seonghwaddict @onmykneesforateez @meeitany

A/N: Okay, we're here. I couldn't be more excited. Really, they've got a lot going on and I hope you're all ready because it's gonna be intense, hot and messy. Seriously, I really appreciate everyone's feedback and consideration for this series. It's become one of the most popular things I've written, but it put some pressure on me, because I'm worrying about whether the second part would please you. Well, I think we'll see.

Enjoy the chapter, even though it's practically nothing but smut.

The third and final part! takes us back to where it all began, but not without an emotional roller coaster ride. By the way, I wanted to point out that T/N doesn't remember what she promised them a year ago. So don't be surprised by the plot changes in this issue. In the finale, we're sure to get a hot threesome.

I'm still learning how to write smut, so please be gentle with me.

Besides, I can't help but talk about the results of the poll. The majority vote was for Alpha/Beta/Omega!au, and honestly, it's one of the ideas I'm most excited about, and I was hoping it would be the winner. I look forward to your comments. In general, feel free to write me about anything.

dividers by @cafekitsune

Much love, everyone.

Now. The morning after graduation.

It's a late, lazy morning when you wake from a deep and well-earned sleep. You blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the bright golden light flooding the room, which refracted through your bedroom's stained glass. It was beautiful and annoying at the same time, just as Hongjoong himself, who had inspired you to do this.

You should have shaded the windows last night before you went to sleep, but that was the last thing you thought of as lying in bed between the restless, wet San's and Wooyoung's bodies. You were more preoccupied with the touch of their rough hands on your heated body, the warmth of their breath on tender skin, and the sounds of their hoarse moaning right by your ear.

They were an absolute mess, slowly driving you crazy. Emotions raged in your stomach, making you feel guilty, embarrassed and… lustful. You practically dozed off at dawn, when the boys managed to calm down a bit and fall into a deep sleep.

The apartment is incredibly quiet; you can't hear a single sound, and only the soft sniffle on your neck, with the feeling of warm breath dancing across your bare skin, breaks this peaceful silence.

Wooyoung is still fast asleep, clutching you in his arms like a favorite teddy bear, his leg wrapped possessively around your thigh as it always has been. Even when he was asleep, he couldn't bring himself to let you go for a second.

You ran the palm of your hand over the sheet and felt nothing but the cold under your fingers. Sannie has been awake for a while now, and for a moment you're annoyed by this fact. You wish that he was still in bed with you, soft and gentle as he always was. So that the three of you could spend this special morning together. The graduation robes are scattered all over the room in a mess of things, and all you want to do is push them further and further into the wardrobe and forget about them forever. The dog days are finally over. You are now official free.

Sensual, full lips touch the sensitive spot on your neck, and the sensation sends shivers down your spine. The throat is suddenly dry, sweat begins to form on your neck from the abruptly increase in desire, and you close your eyes tightly, aware of every touch and breath coming from Wooyoung more clearly than before. It's as if your whole body is completely focused on him, reacting to every fleeting movement and every sound with even more eager devotion.

You're still too receptive from last night, and you need more space to try and keep all those dirty, depraved thoughts from taking over and you. You studiously ignore the slight shiver of excitement that is happily tickling your breasts and causing the muscles in your lower abdomen to ripple in a pleasant way. You bite your lip to keep yourself from groaning in frustration as the images and sensations of the night flash in front of your eyes. You need to stop right now. It's too bad, but it's too sweet.

You start to wriggle, trying to get away from Wooyoung, who is still sleeping, but he just pulls you closer to his chest, as if he wants to dissolve into your body completely, and you melt.

Wooyoung has always been so insatiable and greedy for any kind of physical contact that you can offer him, like an adorable little puppy, that you can just wag your finger at him and he'll come running to you. He always had "too much space between you"; it was important to him to hold you constantly, to touch soft skin with his fingertips, to leave butterfly kisses in every possible place, to knead your thighs and squeeze waist possessively, to pull you so close that there wasn't a centimetre between you. You were his darling, soft and sweet girl in all the right places, and he just couldn't help himself.

San used to tell him that he was being a bit greedy and that he needed to learn how to share you with others. After all, sharing meant caring, and you were also his chagi.

Yes, you wanted to be taken care of, and that frightened you to the depths of your most forbidden fantasies. You wanted to be nervous about them; you wanted them to use you as they pleased, to make you take everything they had to offer, even if it destroyed you completely.

Your desire for them was more than you should have as friends. And that feeling had only grown stronger over the past year.

But despite Wooyoung's obsession and possessiveness, his touch always soothed you. He gave you the comfort you needed whenever you felt the need. And in the end, his hands would always nudge you in the direction of San, so that he could have his own moment of sharing with you. You were their own personal cuddly toy, and that was fine with you, because there was no place in the world where you could feel more protected and cuddly than in their arms.

But at the moment, you wanted nothing more than to get away from his touch and calm down your excitement. You'd been so needy since last night, and Wooyoung had only added to your frustration.

He's shirtless, his skin warm and smooth, and you can be sure it's golden like caramel where the sun has licked it. Delicious. You can almost taste him on the tip of your tongue, and suddenly you're tempted to sink your teeth into him for a taste, but you just bite down harder on your lower lip and stifle a moan.

You need to stop being so intensely... aware of him.

Maybe you were still drunk from the last night; after all, you couldn't remember exactly how many shots of tequila you'd consumed before dragging Yunho into the ladies' room to start kissing passionately. And you found yourself in an even more suggestive position with Seonghwa after another round of colourful, unnamed cocktails.

From then on, every innocent act made you feel lustful and hungry for intimacy.

Was it karma or something? You weren't sure, but you were more inclined to think that it was the lack of passionate sex you hadn't been having for a year now. You hadn't been able to find anyone suitable for a long-term relationship after you'd broken up with Suho, and boys-toys hadn't given you any pleasure.

You wanted more than ten minutes of gasping under the covers with awkward fingers poking into the pussy. They were cum faster than you were able to get yourself aroused. Pathetic.

You needed to satisfy that hunger that was eating you from the inside out, that oppressive feeling of emptiness inside you that could only be filled by a big dick that you could choke on for the rest of your life. A thick and long one, with visibly bulging veins, that could really hit all the sensitive places inside you, causing you to have orgasm after orgasm. And having not one but two perfectly matched options handy hasn't made things any easier.

If you offered to suck them off, Wooyoung's dick would be in your mouth in no time. He was always a fireball, passionate, and impatient, and San…San liked to play with his food before getting down to business. You were in awe of how perfect their dynamic was with such different personalities.

You wanted to see how attractive they would be when a warm throat closed around their cocks, when their beautiful faces were contorted with intense pleasure, and when you heard them moan out your name.

Damn it.

It's moments like these that make you realize that moving in with Wooyoung and San was the best and worst decision you ever made. Unless you count buying a pair of designer jeans that make your butt a magnet for people's hands.

The time went by far too quickly for your liking. It was easy to get lost in the succession of school days, week after week, punctuated by movie nights, spontaneous outings and a seemingly endless stream of student parties. Everything in your life changes. From the big renovation of your apartment, which was Hongjoong's job - he was still over the loss of his favourite vintage sofa - to the move in of San and Wooyoung. Things started to move at an even faster pace the day the boys dragged their suitcases into the dark space of your ultra-modern living room, to a general "You should have done this a long time ago".

It was a spontaneous and hasty decision. But what could have gone wrong? It's always been the three of you, and you had no idea that sharing space would have any effect on your relationship. God, how wrong you were. They played cat and mouse with you, testing your mettle and your patience. The memory of that moment is still so vivid in your mind.

"Come on, chagi, try it; it's quite tasty." San brought a spoonful of the dark green liquid, which Wooyoung proudly called the best hangover soup in the world, to your lips.

Jung Wooyoung and his ego, of course.

"Go ahead, baby; be good and open your mouth. It'll make you feel good, I promise." That last sentence was full of innuendo, and it didn't take a genius to see it. In fact, everything that came out of Wooyoung's mouth was absolute filth.

He was practically purring in your ear, touching your delicate skin with every word, and you swear you could feel the touch of his tongue on your earlobe. Oh, fuck. His hands slid down your shoulders, deftly kneading the muscles that had gone stiff, his thumbs sliding up the vertebrae of your neck, and he dug a little bit into the hair at the back of your neck. In that moment, you were ready to do anything for him, whatever he asked.

"That's my Chagia, so docile and sweet." San would continue to feed you slowly with a spoon, smiling sweetly at you as if it were the most pleasant thing in the world to do. From time to time, he would wipe away the drops of liquid that ran down your lips with his thumb, as if in a romantic drama. You were perfectly capable of doing it yourself. But San's meaningful raised eyebrow made it clear that it was better to let him take care of you without resistance. San's language of love had always been to serve, and he took every opportunity to remind you of that.

The silence around you was nice and cozy—you'd even say relaxing—especially since you could still feel the humming bass of last night's music in your head. And all in all, you weren't feeling your best. Hell, that shit you drank last night was strong. This went on for a few more minutes until the plate in front of you was empty and Woo's face was pressed against your cheek in a cute puppy way.

"Woo, and I wanted to talk to you about something, Y/N," San began, his voice suddenly becoming so sweet. He took your hand gently, his thumb stroking your knuckles lazily. He obviously wanted something from you.

"Sure, I'm all ears."

"We'd like to move in with you, peach, what do you think?" Wooyoung was pecking at your cheek, acting like a real sweetheart, but you knew every one of his tactics to get what he wanted.

"You're not going to get it if Woo keeps licking my cheek."

"But, Peach…" He whined, pursing his puffy lips in a resentful manner. Okay, he was cute as hell, but you were never going to tell him that.

"Chagi." You turned your attention back to San, who looked like he was confessing his love to you: Are this hearts in his eyes? Or are you still drunk?

"Agreed, we are practically living here anyway; I even have my own toothbrush in the bathroom. It's just a formality." He was awfully proud of it, squaring his shoulders and imagining himself under your gaze.

"We want to take care of you, baby."

And this is where you should have told them to fuck off and forget the way to your apartment, change the locks, and give San his toothbrush back. But whether it was the soft and somehow loving look of San's cat eyes paired with deep, sweet dimples or Wooyoung's gentle hands that started to knead your shoulders again in a languidly seductive way, you nodded affirmatively.

They were right; you were all practically living together. The amount of their stuff in your flat was unreal—the T-shirts you slept in, the perfume bottles left everywhere, study notes, games, pajamas and scarves, Wooyoung's luxurious leather jackets, and San's books—you could start a collection, but their stuff was just as much yours. It was also the constant cause of your and Suho's fights; he was always jealous of you and them, completely unaware of the dynamic between the three of you. They'd been glued to your thigh for years, and the fact that you had a boyfriend wouldn't change that. Narrow-minded prick.

"I think you're right. Let's give it a go."

"My little darling." San gave a dazzling smile, showing off his dimples even more, and pressed your hand to his lips. God, Choi San was a real menace. It was hard to believe that this pretty cat in front of you was none other than the one who was caught many times having rough sex in the middle of the university library. Once, he was even caught in a threesome, but you didn't want to point the finger at Wooyoung for putting him up to it.

"Yeah, that's our girl." Wooyoung pressed his lips to your cheek once more, salivating as much as he could along the way.

"Jung Wooyoung!" You squealed, wiping the drool from your cheek in disgust, but Woo was already happily scurrying into the living room, laughing loudly.

"We'll look after you, chagi."

That was San's last sentence before he ran his tongue over your hand, licked his fingers like a cat, and ran after Woo with an evil giggle.

"Choi San, come back at once!"

You are going to have so much fun here. Too much fun for your own good.

"Mmm… Peach, you are already awake." The soft touch of plump lips on your shoulder means that Wooyoung has woken up and wants to have your full attention.

"It has been some time. But I don't want to go anywhere. How are you feeling? Last night, when we came home, you and San were really drunk.

Wooyoung hugs you even tighter, nestling his face between your shoulder blades and taking a deep breath of your scent. Your skin is tickled by the tips of his long hair. A light touch on your lower back sends a jolt up your spine, making you arch slightly in his arms. Wooyoung is always like this; his defiant and needy attitude shouldn't be anything unusual for you, so you should stop reacting to him like this.

"Thank you for looking after us, peach. You're always so nice. Sannie and I don't deserve you." He kisses your neck. This time the touch lingers a little longer, and a feeling of excitement rises in your chest. "We haven't caused you any trouble, have we, little girl?" He purrs as he rubs his nose up against your shoulder. You couldn't help but notice how San's habits have become Wooyoung's habits, and vice versa. Now you have to put up with all that twin feline energy.

You turn to face him, and even after a night of sleeping with his hair tousled and without his usual cheeky grin, Wooyoung still looks pretty damn good. He's comfortable, a little sleepy, but no less seductive than he ever was. Woo has always had this sensual aura about him. Underneath the overt sexuality and the bitchy attitude, there was something else—something dark and seductive. You want to kiss him right now, so badly. Your hand runs through his silky hair, letting it fall in soft waves on either side of his face. Dark strands that are long enough to be pulled through easily. The world's handsomest boy.

It's all too easy to fall in love with him.

He kisses your palm playfully and pokes his nose into it like a cat hungry for affection, and you don't mind his purring with pleasure.

You wonder what he's going to sound like when he cums, God, you need to help yourself.

"Let me think." You run your fingers through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp. It's a deceptively gentle gesture before you pull hard on the roots of his hair, causing him to cry out in surprise.

"Oh, babe, why?" He purses his lips in offense, hoping you'll fall for his cute look. But you've known Wooyoung for years, and judging by the mischievous gleam in his eyes, he knew exactly what he was getting at.

"Firstly, you robbed me of my chance for great sex with your whining and dragging me home. Secondly, you behaved horribly when I tried to persuade you to take a shower and you kept me awake until the morning by clinging to me and fidgeting on the bed. Today I demand the royal treatment because you really messed up last night. This was not part of my plan for the prom at all."

Woo smiles back wickedly, practically baring his teeth in a wolfish grin.

"Peaches, are you really such a needy girl? Well, what are we going to do about it? San and I will have to do our best to make it up to you." He suddenly turns you over so that you are lying on your back, sandwiched between the mattress and his lithe body. Wooyoung is hovering over you, his hair falling all over your face, and you can't help but notice how sexy he looks in this position, which is annoying the hell out of you. He doesn't even have to try very hard to send you over the edge.

Strong hands are resting on the sides of your head, letting you enjoy the sight of the seductively bulging veins that run down his forearms. Fuck, you've always had a weakness for his hands, and who wouldn't when they look like this? Woo leans his head towards you until your noses touch, like a predator cornering his prey.

"Baby, I have my doubts that you'll be satisfied with anyone, so don't sulk. And you know Sannie and I will have to approve of someone running their fingers down your knickers." He smiles broadly at you, clearly enjoying your annoyance when you roll your eyes at him.

"Jung Wooyoung, stop it!" Your hand leaves an angry red mark on the bare skin of his chest, and he grunts. It will take all the patience in the world not to beat him to death or kiss him. "I swear I'll wash your mouth out with soap someday." Or maybe you'll lick him from the inside out. "And stop sticking your pretty little nose where you shouldn't. You don't have to worry about who I'm gonna fuck."

"So what if it bothers me? What are you going to do with it, Peach?" He bites his lips in anticipation and raises an eyebrow in expectation, as if he were challenging you to go on.

The way that smug look is on his face makes you feel a little pissed off. You get a little cocky and decide to use the same tactic he did. Wrapping your hands around his face, you're pulling him even closer, resting him on your forearms and your lips nearly touch. He has siren eyes that are deep and mesmerising, and the intensity of his gaze causes your cheeks to flush and you to bite down on your lower lip. The gleam in his fox eyes is proof that he is enjoying every second of your little game.

"Seonghwa kisses you like he's fucking your mouth with his tongue, it's fucking heaven and you can do whatever you want with that fact, baby. I would have ridden him like a stallion in front of everyone last night if it wasn't for you and San's drunken arses". You push him off of you, and Wooyoung rolls over to the other side of the bed as you sit up.

There's something in the air, and you feel you've said something wrong, judging by the way Wooyoung's eyes are flashing with an emotion you can't quite describe. It's a weird mix between anger, envy, desire and something else. But whatever it is, it is making your pussy clench in anticipation of it.

Damn, when did you start thinking with what's between your legs instead of your brain?

He stares at you intently, as if he's trying to decide whether he's going to scold you or fuck you senseless. As lust flashes through his languid onyx eyes like a shooting star, fast but unmistakable, and his pink tongue flicks out to wet his swollen lips, Wooyoung knows exactly what he's going to do to you.

You reach out to stroke his shoulder, and just as you expected, his skin is the most delicious shade of caramel. You can't help but want to run your tongue all over it.

Oh, shit. Now would be a good time to remind yourself: He's your best friend.

"Where`s San?" He asks you.

The expression on his face is, for the most part, neutral, with just a slight hint of lust and anticipation. He slowly licks his delicious lips and looks at you with bedroom eyes. You feel the warm moisture building up between your thighs. If he keeps looking at you like that, you're going to make a puddle of lust where you're sitting right now. You squeeze your thighs tighter to keep the liquid from dripping shamefully onto the bed, praying to all the gods that Wooyoung won't notice.

"I don't know. He wasn't in the bed when I woke up."

"Good."

What the hell is 'GOOD'? You need to collect your thoughts and leave this stuffy room, but the way Wooyoung's eyes slide over your body before, and slowly sucking his lower lip tells you there's nowhere to run.

"Come to me, sweetheart; I want you in my arms." He is stroking himself on his thigh, the silk fabric of his pajamas leaving no room for imagination as it outlines the taut muscles of his gorgeous thighs. His legs are spread a little wider to draw your attention to where he wants you now, and you can clearly see the imprint of his thick dick through the fabric. Damn. It's completely hard, and you can't help but notice how big it is.

His actions send signals straight to the nerves that control your cunt. The wet heat is running between your legs and your arousal is increasing. A palpable shiver runs through all body as you squirm and writhe under the intensity of his gaze.

The rational part of you is literally beating in a hysterical frenzy. It's your hope that your stupid brain will realise the full implications of what's happening, and that you'll be able to put a stop to it. Even if the boundaries of your friendship were highly questionable, you were friends. While the evil voice in the back of your head was cheering you on: "C'mon, what's the bad that can happen?"

He was inviting you, and who were you to refuse? Not that you wanted to.

They'd go crazy if San and Wooyoung knew what thoughts and fantasies lived in your head every day. Huh. They had no idea their sweet chagia had such a dark and dirty mind. You take a deep breath.

Screw it.

You slowly crawl across the bed towards him. He watches you with a squinting, predatory look on his face until one of your legs has been thrown across his body and you're almost sitting on top of him. Almost, as your thighs struggle to keep you in that rigid position, but apparently Woo wasn't in the mood, and his broad palms force your hips down so you're sitting all the way in his lap. Before you realise what you're doing, you're pinned against his crotch, his hard cock touching your aching clit as you move against him, demanding physical stimulation. The contact was so good that it sent a shiver down your spine, and you almost moaned at the tiny moment of pleasure it gave you. Damn, it was massive—so thick you started salivating in your mouth. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You're up to your neck in shit.

"There you are, starlight, in my hands." His voice, once so high and soft, was now hoarse and deep. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you even closer to him, so that there was hardly any space between the two of you. "Baby girl, are you still upset about Seonghwa?" It's a nickname he rarely uses, and it sends an electric shock through your lower abdomen, triggering a feeling you're not sure you can control right now. He leans in close to you and presses his wet lips against the side of your ear. "Tell me what I can do to stop you being angry with me."

"Kiss me, make me feel good." The evil little voice in the back of your head chimes in with glee. "Blow my brains out until my head feels empty and light." It says.

A whole new sensation takes over. Your body starts to heat up in anticipation of what is to come. Then the room will seem to shrink and the air will fill with a tension and a desire.

"I don't know. You've really pissed me off." You look up at him through your impossibly thick lashes, your lips in a fake pout. You weren't the innocent one; you could have played just as badly as they did. "You'll have to try harder, pretty boy." You let your finger nails run down the length of his neck. Wooyoung tilts his head back to reveal a chin line that could have been carved from the finest marble.

As his hands lazily caress your thighs, lifting your T-shirt higher and higher, your skin burns under his palms. Damn, he's scalding you.

The wetness between your legs is becoming more and more intense as the conversation goes on and on. Your juices seep through the thin lace of your panties, dripping from your pussy, leaving little dark streaks on the silk of his trousers where they touch your thighs. The air between you crackles with tension and desire; you feel yourself sweating; you're so hot and needy; and Wooyoung is no help at all.

His aura is one of dominance, and you swallow in anticipation. A storm is about to break and you don't want to be safe.

"I'll do whatever you want me to do for you, Y/N."

You're done for.

"Then kiss me, stupid boy, make me feel good."

He growls back at you, embracing you on the back of the head and practically forcing your faces together. The palm of his hand clenches possessively on the back of your neck with palpable pain, and the sound that comes out of you is something between a sob and a moan. With the sudden movement, you feel yourself pressing even harder against his dick, and it sends a pleasurable pulse through your clit.

Wooyoung presses his forehead against yours and your lips are just a breath away from each other.

You stare back at him without blinking. His eyes are half closed as he watches you in silence, like a tiger stalking its prey, ready to pounce with its jaws clenched. It is in a low, dangerously calm tone that he speaks. "Are you sure this is what you want to do, baby girl? I'm biting." It's mixed with your sighing and seductive lips, and you can barely make out the words.

"P-please…"

His moan is loud, guttural, and mildly painful, and then…

O MY GOD.

Those soft lips are pressed hard against yours in an urgent, hungry kiss. His mouth is insistent and demanding, his thumb digging into the skin of your neck, turning the touch into a rough grip, and his tongue gliding along the bottom of your lip. Slowly, as he pulls your lips apart, he moves in quickly, and you shudder at the sensual sensation as he runs his tongue over the roof of your mouth and licks your teeth. It should have been dirty and rough, but instead you find yourself moaning with wanton need.

"Wooyoung..." The moan of his name was so desperate, so needy, so full of lust and desire.

"Goddamn, I love it when you say my name."

He kisses you with renewed ferocity, biting your lips almost to the point of bleeding. Wooyoung is too passionate; he licks your mouth with his tongue, and literally shoves it down your throat. He kisses you like he's dying of thirst and you're the only way to make him drink. Spittle runs down your chin, it's wet and dirty, but you can't stop, you don't want to stop. Wooyoung's tongue is practically fucking you in the mouth.

And God, you want more. It feels unreal, too extreme to be a reasonable response to a kiss, the heat between your legs, your clit throbbing with need, your nerves on fire.

Wooyoung lets go of you for a moment and you stare at him with your eyes wide open. Your heart is pounding wildly and your breathing is so ragged that you're practically choking to death. Licking away any remnants of the kiss you shared, his wet pink tongue pokes out from between his plump lips.

His hand slides down your face, cupping your chin and tilting your head slightly so that your eyes meet his, his gaze clouded with lust as if his fingers were digging deep inside you. You can't say a word as a wicked smile spreads across his sharp, enchanting face.

Now you have a better understanding of all those damsels who are ready to spread their legs at the flick of his fingers.

"Tell me you want more, baby. I have a feeling this apology isn't enough. I need to do more than that. I'm so desperate for forgiveness.

"Don't I need to be forgiven too, Woo? You shouldn't be so greedy. That voice, oh shit.

You turn sharply around and find yourself staring into San's beautiful cat eyes. He's so damn good-looking you swallow a groan. It must be illegal for someone to look this good in normal jeans and a plain black shirt. But San had a body worth dying over.

A real girl's dinner.

What the hell are you going to do now? How long had he stayed there?

"San-ah… how…" You find yourself stuttering. Your mouth dries up and you can't utter a word, but even if you could, your brain can't form coherent thoughts. You can't bring yourself to look away from him, and something deep inside you knows that he will punish you if you try.

"What is it, Gongjunim? Did the cat eat your tongue?" He raises an eyebrow at you, a shit-eating grin playing at the corners of his lips. As if in mockery, his soft, patronising tone of voice slides over your skin. San combines a sensual, gentle nature with a seductive one that makes you feel he's looking for a weakness before pouncing. His fucking duality. One moment he's a little sweetheart, the next he's a lecherous demon who wants to sink his teeth into your throat and devour you. "Come on, Chagia, I promise I won't disappoint you; I'm very good at excuses."

Responding to his sultry purr, your pussy clenches shamefacedly.

The excitement of it all makes your brain feel like mush and sets your skin on fire.

You start squirming in Wooyoung's arms, and now that San's here, you belatedly realise what you've gotten yourself into. Is it time for a change of scenery or something? No, you want to stay. Desperately.

You need them to blow your brains out, to make you dumb and submissive and a pretty little toy for them to play with. Sometimes you have to stop before you cross the line, but where is the line when you're literally sitting on your best friend's hard cock?

Hell, you don't know what you're supposed to do - run or beg - but you clearly know what they want to do to you, judging by Wooyoung's dick twitching between your thighs and San slowly licking his lips as he looks at your bare ass peeking out from under your shirt. His shirt.

There must be some kind of telepathic connection between Wooyoung and San. After a few seconds of intense eye contact, San pulls his T-shirt over his head, tosses it aside and slowly walks over to you. The grin on his face seems to have changed; it has become even darker than before. Hungrier.

And you don't think this is a good time to start drooling. But damn it, you want to lick him from head to toe.

Between the three of you, there's a chaos of emotion and desire. It's mixed with adrenaline and a distant fear of what's going to happen. There has to be an end to this game of predator and prey, and why not do it now? Sighing, you finally give in.

In the morning, you'll consider the consequences.

"Maybe you should kiss me too, San-ah, and I'll start thinking about forgiving.

Hot lips instantly press an open, wet kiss to your shoulder. The bed buckles under the weight of another man's body. San's strong arms are wrapped around your waist and his fingers clench your t-shirt into a fist. He's hot, warm and hard, and you can feel the hardness of his dick through your trousers as he presses down hard against you. His mouth is sucking, biting and licking your skin as if his life depended on it. Sharing an understanding look with Wooyoung, San slides his lips higher up your body.

"Sannie…" Before planting a hot kiss on your neck, you whimper as his teeth sink into your sensitive flesh.

The moan that comes from the back of your throat is so deep that for a moment you wonder if it's coming from you at all.

Pure pleasure shoots through you as you feel Woo's long tongue on the other side of your neck. He lets out the sexiest moan deep in his throat, as if he's having the time of his life, savouring every second of the way his lips explore the nape of your neck. You're distracted. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as he pulls the skin between his lips, leaving a purple hickey on the back of your neck.

"Oh, my God, boys."

"That's my darling, Chagia." His voice is sultry and seductive, and you can clearly hear the saturi again, as it tends to do at times when San is in a highly aroused state.

"You're so beautiful, my peach." Wooyoung whispers to you, and you just melt away completely.

You whimper as Woo begins to run his hands up and down your thighs and arse, squeezing and pulling. He mooed softly as you made little circular movements with your hips and rubbed his cock against you. Woo punishes you by slapping your bottom if you cuddle too hard. You'll need to be obedient as they play with you.

The sound fills the room along with the collective moaning of Wooyoung's and San's.

"What a dirty little girl you are. I think you need to be taught how to obey." Woo spanks you a few more times and you wiggle your hips in an impatient way.

It feels so good.

San pulls your t-shirt up to your breasts while all your attention is focused on Wooyoung. Your little thong is completely transparent and does nothing to hide your sex or the excitement building within you. They are practically digging into your needy pussy because of the position you are now in. A chorus of gasps and moans can be heard from your best friends as their eyes focus on that big, wet spot. San's greedy hands press you even closer to his body, so that you can feel his full erection on top of your plump, bare bum.

"You're so fucking wet." Wooyoung hisses. "Like a bitch leaking just thinking about our cocks in your tight little cunt. We'll destroy you, Peach."

Before you realise what's happening, Woo's hands slide down your back, your nipples tensing in the cool open air. The soft fabric of your t-shirt falls to the floor, and suddenly, hot wetness envelops your left nipple and he sucks hard on it, the pressure causing pain that turns to pleasure as his tongue touches the hard bud. Your head immediately falls back onto San's shoulder as you open the soft space of your throat to his insatiable mouth. You let out a long groan, and your hand rests on Wooyoung's head, tugging lightly at the soft lengths of his hair.

You feel like you could explode at any moment, even though they haven't done anything to you yet. You're burning, almost feverish, as the growing fire between your thighs reaches unbearable levels. You can't breathe; your skin is hypersensitive. Your head tilts to the side, and you whimper San's name in the most pathetic intonation possible. His hand slides lower and lower, past your waist and your stomach, to the place where you most want to feel him. It hasn't even come close to touching your pussy yet, but the thought of it is enough to make you squirm with excitement.

His hands move down low enough to touch the skin of your naked legs and up slowly, frantically, until he reaches where you are starting to get aroused. The palm of his hand encircles your pussy in a possessive way, the small mound of flesh lying so perfectly in the palm of his hand. You tremble a little at this, and try to spread your legs wider so that his fingers can rub against the moist slit, so that he can dive in between the warm folds until your pussy spreads out beautifully for him, so that he can rub your clit with ease.

"Mmm… what a wet little thing. I bet my Gongjunim has the most beautiful pussy I have ever seen in my life. Fleshy, shiny, and pink - just the way I like it. He gasps for breath. He puts his hands on your hips and rubs his hard cock against the curve of your ass a couple of times. "Do you feel that, Chagia? No one can make me as hard as you can." On your skin, his breath feels like fire. Hoping for a little more friction, you arch your backside. The gesture reveals a hiss from his side.

San's fingers, one tempting back and forth with a feathery touch, spread the excitement building in your slit beneath the thin material. Your pussy clenches around nothing at all in the most uncomfortable way, and you know that he can feel it.

"Do you like this chagi? Wooyoung's mouth on your full, pretty tits? My fingers on your sweet little snatch?" San's tone is almost mocking. His tongue is licking his lips; his fingers continue to stroke your clothed pussy in a leisurely manner; and he watches intently as Wooyoung literally chokes on your breasts. "We are gonna fuck you until you squeal like the slutty little bitch you are." He growls into your ear, and the sound of it makes you pull on Woo's hair with all your might.

And you always had the impression that Wooyoung's mouth was dirty.

A soft moan slips out of the brunette's swollen lips, which are now wrapped so tightly around your nipple that you're sure they're going to leave a mark on it. As he pulls back with an audible pop, you let out a small sound as you look at his ecstatic face. His eyes are half closed, his eyelids flutter slightly and a beautiful flush of colour has appeared on his cheeks. His plump lips are glistening with the saliva and the service he is giving to your tits.

"Are you feeling good, peach?" He chuckles weakly as he watches you fall apart in San's skilled hands, leaving you as beautiful as ever in his eyes. Woo gives your nipple a hard pinch, only to then let his tongue run over it. The sudden change in sensation causes your head to begin to spin, and you let out a loud moan of pleasure.

"Please… I need… more… Youngiee." You stammer out the words, your voice shaking and your body trembling.

"You look so pretty when you beg. But do you want to know something, сhagi? You'll look even more beautiful with your cunt stretched around my dick. I will ravage your tiny pussy, Gongjunim. I'm going to make you mine." San finally kisses you; though it's hard to call it a kiss, he dives into your lips like a hungry man, sucking them so deeply and passionately, with an insistence that you don't even think you'll ever understand.

His tongue is merciless as he explores every millimeter of the inside of your mouth. This kiss is heavenly, and with every second that passes, you find yourself wanting more, wanting him to spoil you in every way that he can. To have his way with you until you have no more patience. And it is these thoughts that make you wriggle in Wooyoung's arms. You try to rub your thighs together, hoping to relieve the unbearable heat inside you.

"The taste is so damn good."

You can feel Woo squeezing your breasts almost in sync, his warm tongue sliding over the plump flesh once more, licking at the aroused nipples, and his teeth scratching the sensitive skin with the lightest of touches. You savour the lightning bolts of pleasure that the two of them cause to bounce around your body. It's almost painful, but you know you're loving this.

Half gasping, half squealing at the sheer, blunt pressure of San's nimble, kneading fingers finding their way to your labia through the mesh of the thong. Your lower abdomen clenches in a reflexive spasm, and your hands are sticky with sweat as you grasp the wrist of his hand.

"Oh, your pussy is so sensitive, isn't it, Chagia?" San cooed with feigned tenderness, and with a strange sadism, he pressed his middle finger against your cunt, sliding it right over the spot where your clit was, causing your hips to shake. The lubrication of your arousal made it much more effective for him to stimulate you, and he would literally bring you to orgasm with minimal effort. He purred softly as you responded, like a big cat purring, and just when you thought he couldn't fuck with your sanity even more, he turned his head and spat on your lips, a glob of saliva dribbling into your open mouth and you choked out a moan.

It's so rough and dirty, but your body responds the best it can, arching into his arms and pressing your breasts even harder against Wooyoung's face.

The brunette moans in response and lifts his foxy eyes to you. You can see the corner of his lips curl into a smirk before he bites down hard on your nipple. Fuck, your life will never be the same. And they haven't even got around to fucking you properly yet. It's like heaven and hell at the same time.

"I want to hear you whimper, Gongjunim." San's hand grips the back of your neck very tightly, causing you to gasp for breath from the sudden lack of air. Your eyes begin to roll up at the possessive touch of his hand on your throat, and you begin to jerk your hips, your clit pressing against Wooyoung's cock, and he lets out a long, hard moan.

"Please, Sannie." You're breathing out.

"Look at her, San, our girl, slobbering like a brainless slut." Wooyoung wipes the viscous saliva from your parted lips, then pushes his fingers into your mouth with a sharp, deep thrust. For a second you choke and begin to gurgle around the long phalanges.

He hadn't removed the rings yesterday and now the heavy metal makes your tongue feel cold. "Think of the way my dick is fucking your little throat, starlight. Suck it hard." You wheeze and gurgle, your saliva bubbling at the corners of your lips, but you have done exactly as you have been told.

It was rough, it was horrible and it was so wet that it was almost disgusting to watch. But Woo enjoyed it; he literally raped your mouth with his fingers in a sort of sadistic sense. A few thick strands of saliva would stick to your swollen lips as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth.

"Look at you. Taking my fingers in your mouth like that. Such a good girl."

This whole game has been nothing more than a distraction from the main action. There's a short circuit in your body as a sharp sensation pierces every nerve in your body. San suddenly slaps you hard on your wet pussy, the contact sending sparks of pain and pleasure flying across your skin, and you let out a squeal.

"Oh my God. Oh, my God. I'm going to… I'm going to…" You go over the edge as you feel your juices pouring down your legs, your vaginal muscles contracting, forcing more fluid to pour out of you, the combination of their names coming weakly from your lips as your orgasm washes over your weakened limbs.

"Fuck, Peach is so hot… You're squirting." You belatedly realise that Wooyoung is also cumming as he throws his head back in pleasure, his eyes rolling up and his mouth opening in a long, whimpering moan.

You can hardly catch your breath when you feel San rest his chin on your shoulder, his grip tightening around you, whispering in your ear.

"One more gongjunim; give me one more orgasm and then I'll caress you."

"Ah, San." The searing sensation of his fingers roughly pinching your clit through the wet material of your thong causes you to cry out hoarsely in agony. The sound of your wet, sensitive cunt splashing was clear and vivid; the sensation was brutal, but so indescribable you were ready to faint from pleasure.

He's going to tear you apart.

"Cum for me, Chagia. I know you can do it. Sperm for us; make Youngie and me proud of you".

Your eyes rolled back in your head and you swore that your cunt was on fire, your whole body shuddering in electrifying spasms of pleasure that made your toes curl up and your thighs shake. San's hand was still firmly around your throat, holding your head upright as you had your orgasm.

It had shattered you so badly that the fall seemed dramatic, and you went completely limp as the orgasm dissipated, turning you into an inconsolable, whimpering, disorderly mass.

They had blown your brains out.

"There you are, Gongjunim, I got you. You did so well." San muttered, but your mind was too tired to admit it. Amused at how angry and lost you looked, you saw stars as Wooyoung's hand tilted your head to the side in a teasing way to look at your confused face.

"You're no longer angry with us, are you, Peach?"

San removes his hand from your throat and allows Wooyoung to pull your face up to his own. Gentle fingers caress your cheekbones and soft lips wipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks. At one point, you didn't even realise you were crying. It's such a contrast to his previous behaviour; here he is your usual adored Jung Wooyoung, a little clingy, a little annoying and with an unrealistic maternal instinct. Your best friend.

Fuck. Now it is time for you to start crying for the real time. You begin to sob, pushing Wooyoung away from you in a desperate attempt to get out of his arms. You can feel the wetness underneath you and it makes you feel worse and worse. You need to get out of here now. Your behaviour frightens them to death and San's hands are on your body again, squeezing your shoulders gently.

"Stop, stop for a second, Y/N. It's all right, Chagia. We have you."

You freeze at the sound of your name, like a deer caught in the headlights.

In anticipation of his next move, your whole body tenses like a string. Wooyoung's fingers intertwine with yours. It's a familiar gesture, so familiar to you, so ordinary, so perfected over the years of your friendship. San lets you go when he realises you're not going anywhere, and his face comes to rest next to Wooyoung's as you look at him.

He's handsome, too, to the point of madness, and trembles at the knees. His cheeks are flushed. There's still a lingering gleam of lust and excitement in his eyes, but with a touch of strange emotion. His plush lips are soft and swollen from all the kissing, and his body glistens with sweat. And the reason he looks like that is because of you. You look at Wooyoung and see that he looks exactly the same, but the emotion in his eyes is more obvious than ever.

You want to crawl off his lap and cower in shame in the corner of the room so you don't have to look at all that tenderness and loveliness in his foxy eyes. You can handle his cheeky, flirtatious backside with ease, but this kind of Wooyoung is new territory for you.

"We… shit. This shouldn't have happened. This is the first rational thought to come out of your mouth all day. And you should have said it a lot sooner, before your two best friends made you cum twice with a squirting orgasm.

"Chagia, I think there's something we need to talk about, but first let's get you back to your normal self."

You don't argue; just nod and realize that San is absolutely right. You look like a complete mess, covered in saliva and lubricant. You can feel Wooyoung's cum seeping through the fabric of his pajama bottoms and drying on the inside of your thigh.

You look fucked.

"Yes, I think we have a lot to talk about."

It sounds terribly stupid, but what else can you say? Can we forget it? Or can we fuck again?

All your years of sexual longing for them have turned into a resounding slap in your face.

"Go take a bath, Peach, and we'll talk. San and I will take care of the rest."

For some reason, this sentence gave you a vague feeling of déjà vu. But you pushed the thought out of your head as quickly as it had come.

"Okay."

You finally slide off Wooyoung's lap, ignoring their stares at your almost naked body, there's no point in covering up or acting like a shy maiden, San's fingertips were rubbing your pussy just five minutes ago, bringing you to some kind of crazy orgasm, and the entire lower half of Woo's body is drenched in your secretions. If you've ever wanted to imagine how your friendship would turn out, this is it.

You trudge to the bathroom on your tired legs, pulling off your disgustingly wet thong on the way and throwing it on the floor. You turn on the light, turn on the tap and the whole room is immediately filled with the warm steam of hot water. Outside the door you can hear the muffled voices of the boys, who seem to be having some sort of heated argument, judging by San's irritated moaning and Wooyoung's loud whining.

You don't want to go into details; you still have time to destroy yourself. Your eyes catch sight of your reflection in the mirror. Tomorrow has come much earlier for you, if the fucked-up look on your face is any indication. Dishevelled hair, hickey marks, bruises and swollen lips from biting. What a beautiful morning after graduation!

"Wooyoung, you should have waited for me." San's voice is much louder now.

"As if I'm the only one who fucked her. Don't try to tell me it's all my fault."

You still don't want to join the conversation.

A pink, glistening puddle of something that smells like candy spreads across the bathtub. Thanks to Mingi, you have a whole collection of these colourful bombs. He's always had a soft spot for all things cute and charming, and he's taken every opportunity to spoil you to death with them.

With a tired sigh, you take another look at yourself in the mirror. So, Peach, are you ready for the consequences?

Turning away from your reflection, you lock the door with a click.

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judasofsuburbia · 1 year

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something something caretaker! steve gets hired by rockstar! eddie to look after and live with wayne. everything is set up over the phone after eddie was given his resume so eddie's never physically seen the guy but he has enough positive reviews and references that it seems like there is anybody in this world that doesn't like this steve harrington fellow.

wayne munson soon becomes his #1 fan.

wayne keeps telling eddie all about steve in their weekly phone calls. anytime eddie tries to steer the conversation into something actually about wayne's health and wellbeing, wayne manages to involve steve. says that steve's blushing face is real handsome while steve rolls his eyes and laughs to himself across the room.

"you should come home on your next break," wayne says.

"i'm planning to."

"steve really wants to meet you," wayne says with an infliction.

"well, shit, wayne. from how much you gush about him, i'm excited to meet your new boyfriend too," eddie teases.

"oh hush, you. my casanova days are over. you, however, could use someone good."

the next break eddie has, nearly six months after steve starts working for the munsons, he arrives at nearly 11pm. he's quiet as he sneaks into the house he bought wayne years ago and nearly shits himself when he sees steve hanging out on the couch watching TV. he drops his suitcase to the floor, jolting steve out of his trance.

"oh god, i'm so sorry!" steve rushes to say as eddie clutches his chest and tries to steady his breathing.

"steve, i take it?" eddie laughs breathlessly.

"yeah, hi," steve stands from the couch and holds his hand out. "nice to finally meet you."

steve steps into the light as he does this and eddie's taken aback by just how handsome he is. oh fuck, wayne wasn't just messing around. eddie takes his hand, firm and strong, and shakes it.

"sorry to jumpscare you like that," steve smiles and his eyes twinkle in the low hallway light.

"no, i should've prepared myself," eddie says. "someone hasn't been in the house either than wayne or i in....well, ever."

"don't worry, i'll try to keep mostly to myself as you two have quality bonding time," steve replies sheepishly.

eddie shakes his head. "you don't gotta do that. you're more welcome around us than anyone. i owe you so much for looking after him."

steve smiles. "you already sign all my paychecks."

right, yeah. eddie's technically this guy's boss. eddie's never really thought of it that way before. that means any plans eddie's monkey brain had in the last thirty seconds about flirting with the handsome caretaker is out the window. it wouldn't be appropriate. eddie slouches and gives steve a tired smile.

"i'm gonna turn in. see you at breakfast?" eddie asks, hopeful despite his conflicting internal monologue.

"be prepared for oatmeal," steve jokes. "it's the only thing he wants for breakfast nowadays."

eddie scrunches up his face. "you don't have any poptarts or anything fun stashed away somewhere?"

"depends. do you like brown sugar cinnamon?" steve asks.

"love it," eddie whispers.

"then yeah, your breakfast fate can be a little better," steve nudges his elbow and it lights up eddie's skin.

"thank you caretaker steve," eddie salutes and turns heel to his teenage bedroom.

over the next few days, eddie goes out of his mind. he watches steve just do his job, the job he hired him to do, and he's still going crazy over it. how steve prepares for everything, accidents and things eddie couldn't even predict. spoon feeds wayne if his hands are too shaky. jokes and messes around with him like he's family. wayne's eyes keep drifting over to eddie's when steve isn't looking, a smug little smirk on his face.

"it can't happen," eddie seethes when steve leaves the room. "you're what's important here and i need him to stick around."

"and i need you to stop moping about the country, getting your heart broken every other week," wayne retorts. "steve's a good boy. he would treat you right."

"we don't even know if he's gay," eddie grumbles.

wayne gives him an unimpressed look that makes eddie bark out a frustrated laugh. "take a look at his bedroom, kid. you'll have all your questions answered," wayne advises right before steve returns.

"jeopardy time?" steve asks, hands already on wayne's wheelchair handles.

"eddie is gonna beat us both," wayne claims.

"that so?" steve beams. eddie is glaring daggers at wayne.

"he's full of useless facts," wayne jokes while eddie throws up his hands and steve laughs joyfully.

eddie falls for steve more and more as the week goes on. he tries his best to restrain it, tries his best to never be alone with steve. catches himself from checking steve out (especially in his daily running outfit, god) and swallows flirtatious lines that nearly escape his mouth. it's hard to say no when steve invites him to watch a movie or hang out with him while he cooks dinner but he does. eddie has to be coming off like a total dick at this point but it's for the best.

steve is out running an errand so eddie finally decides to snoop only a little bit. opens steve's bedroom door and smiles at all the decorations. sure enough, there is a little bisexual pride flag sticking out of the pen cup on his desk. eddie is admiring framed photos of steve and some kids along with little handwritten camp postcards on his corkboard when steve enters the room.

"anything interesting?" steve jokes from the doorway.

"shit!" eddie yells, clutching his chest again like he did the first night. "fuck, i'm so sorry."

"don't be," steve shrugs easily. "it is your house after all. i snoop your teenage bedroom all the time when wayne asks me to change the sheets."

"still, i shouldn't be invading your privacy," eddie says with an apologetic face.

steve walks carefully over to where eddie is standing. "i don't think there is much privacy between us where wayne is concerned," steve says quietly with a kind smile, leaning up against the desk.

"i'm sorry about him," eddie groans, rubbing his hand over his chin. "he is a little pushy about my love life."

"no, i'm sorry that he's weird about us. i swear i called you handsome once and he has never left it alone since," steve admits with a small blush.

eddie's eyebrows raise. "you think i'm handsome?"

"are you kidding me? you got this whole," steve gestures in a circle, "rockstar bravado going on. hard not to admire the show."

"well, you've got a show i admire too," eddie admits, inching closer.

steve huffs, looking down bashfully. "do i?"

"mhm. smart, genuine guy with a heart of gold. makes wayne's days better. lights up a room. probably rescues cats from trees and saves drowning puppies," eddie smiles.

steve tilts his head from side to side. "i may have rescued a cat before but it was stuck under my little brother Dustin's porch."

"see? heart of gold," eddie repeats.

steve exhales deeply, twisting his mouth. "i wasn't sure if you liked me."

eddie reaches his hand over and touches steve's hand on top of the desk. steve looks up shyly to eddie's sympathetic face. "i didn't want to-- there's a power trip here, you know? like you said, i sign your paychecks. i'm not about to pull out the moves and make you feel like your job is at risk if you aren't into it."

steve nods before slowly rubbing his thumb over eddie's.

"and if i am into it?" steve whispers.

"well i--" eddie stutters.

"can i kiss you?" steve asks quietly. eddie's not sure he's ever been asked in his entire life.

eddie nods. when steve's lips touch his, it's all over. any pretense of keeping his feelings undercover blows up like fireworks underneath his skin. eddie feels as his resolve sparkles and cracks away into the air. he encourages steve to keep kissing him by pulling in his face closer. steve sucks his bottom lip in between his own when his watch beeps.

"wayne's meds," steve whispers.

"old bastard," eddie jokes. "watch a movie with me later?"

steve bites his lip and nods. "i know just the couch."

#emily writes #emily's brain worms attacking her at work once again!!!!!#steddie ficlet #steddie #steddie au #steddie fics #steve harrington/eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson

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peaktora · 4 months

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𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄: 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍˚◞♡ ⃗ dad!satoru gojo

𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ instead of sleeping, satoru and your daughter argue over what to name her stuffed dragon.

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊1.9k words. established relationship (#married). the toddler dialogue is purposefully not structured correctly since it’s words from a toddler. fem!reader. intended lowercase. warning: you will wish you had a kid with gojo after reading this.

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚.┊this was gonna be a basic thought post, but i got more and more interested in the concept and was like “y’know what? fuck it, ima just make this into a full fic.” so here we are with a more full look at dad!gojo <3.

satoru mumbles, "but i think he likes being called spike,” and it's obvious that he's sulking. you don't even have to look up from your book to confirm it.

“well, you don't know him like i do!” your daughter replies, tucking herself into your side.

you flip through the picture book's pages fast, just getting brief glances of its colorful illustrations. unicorns, dragons, knights, and princesses decorated the pages. after turning the last page, you sigh and put the book down on the nightstand. despite the fact that the book was designed for toddlers, it actually looked interesting. you just know you would love to read it to your toddler. you can imagine yourself reading it to her, seeing the excitement on her face as she explores the world of fantasy—her absolute favorite genre.

but unfortunately, that image in your head will have to wait for another day, because her attention? is completely taken by the debate between her and her father.

how the argument started is beyond you. just ten minutes ago, you and satoru were snuggled up on your daughter’s bed, trying to read her to sleep. and now? satoru and her are in a heated debate over what to name her stuffed dragon. it's tough not to be amazed at how something so easy can become so complicated with him.

"i bought him, drove him around in my car, and wrapped him up in a cute little box for you. i think we know each other pretty well.” satoru smiles and reaches across the bed for the dragon.

“nuh-uh! he not even like you!” your toddler, with her tiny hands and puffed cheeks, clutches her stuffed dragon tightly against her chest. the plushie, its vibrant green scales and friendly eyes, seemed to come alive in her hold.

he retreats back to his seat on the edge of your daughter's bed, his lips curled into a frown as he asks, "how come?"

her mouth opens, then closes again. you look away for a moment to give satoru a look of disapproval, and by the time you return your attention to her, her brows are already starting to furrow. she mumbles under her breath, "because," running her small fingers around the plush dragon’s ear. she looks to be at a loss for words, as if she hasn't come up with an answer to satoru's question.

but that's okay, since you—happily, do.

"because you’re taking his time away from storytime. and satoru, in case you didn't know? when it's time to go to bed, we have storytime.”

your daughter looks up, her face beaming as she screams, "yup! and mommy picks the super-duper bestest stories ever!"

satoru gasps, his eyes never leaving yours as he rises from his bed and holds his chest. "baby, who's side are you on?"

you roll your eyes, "i'm just sa—"

"oh, sweetheart," he mumbles as he rushes around the corner of the bed, his movements quick to reach your side. without wasting a second, he rests a palm on your forehead, checking your temperature with a clear look of false concern. concerned people don’t have to hold back the urge to smile. actually, they don't have a smile at all—but for some reason, satoru does, and he's terrible at hiding it. "are you sick? having some hallucinations? is that why you've decided to side with enemy?”

your daughter giggles, and it only feeds satoru's act.

he turns his head towards the source of the giggles. a playful pout forms on his lips as he teasingly asks, "or did this little munchkin of ours use her princess magic to change your mind? she has a way of doing that to me sometimes, y’know."

his free hand reaches towards your toddler, fingers wiggling in anticipation. as his fingers make contact with your little one's soft, ticklish skin, even more giggles slip past her lips.

she tries to squirm away from his touch, but that's when he adds another hand to the tickle fest, and all chance of escape is gone. at that point, she visibly gives up, curling into herself to try to halt her dad’s tickling.

“i-i don’t have powers, daddy!” you daughter manages to stifle out through her laughs. you smile at the sound—it’s one you'll never get tired of hearing.

"you can't be a princess without powers! every princess has powers!"

“i-i'm n-not a princess though!“

satoru's fingers pause in their spot, his eyes widening in disbelief. "not a princess? how on earth can that even be?"

you’re sure if she needed him to, he could easily write an entire book about how she’s a princess.

he scoops her up from her place next to you, careful not to let her dangling legs hit you in the process. she lands on his hip, her eyes fixated on him as he lovingly whispers, "you're daddy's little princess!" he pauses, then adds, "and mommy is the queen, so that makes me—"

“the king?”

“you’re just so smart, huh? see, a perfect quality of a princess.”

“but princesses have dragons! big ones with so many pretty colors and names! they go—“ she cuts herself off and raises her tiny arms high. with a wide smile on her face, she takes a deep breath and lets out a loud roar.

satoru nods and smiles warmly at her, "oh, i see...well, y’know what? not all princesses have dragons.”

she tilts her head, and you awe at the sight. “they don’t?”

"nope," he says, taking her tiny hand in his, wrapping it securely around his finger. he lightly massages the back of her hand, and it’s soothing—scratch that, reassuring. you can tell from the way your daughter leans her head on his shoulder, tucking herself in the crook of his neck. "you don't need a dragon to be a princess. you're my princess ‘cause you're kind, smart, and full of love. i'd say that's all you need to be one."

"really?" she asks, waiting for his nod before continuing. "okay…but i still want a dragon."

"i get it, munchkin," he hums as he takes the dragon plushie from the bed. "we still haven't figured out a name for this guy, hm?"

“nuh-uh!”

“he looks like his power is being super cuddly. he's so cuddly that he puts you right to sleep…how ‘bout…fluffy?"

“ew.”

“fluffy sounds cute, no?”

"but dragons aren't cute. daddy, they breathe fire."

"wel—" satoru begins, but your daughter interrupts.

“his name should be fireball!”

“satoru, she does have a point,” you assert.

she really did. it was a dragon, not something adorable, but something that’s usually thought of as a villain—or a protector. athough deep down, a part of you just wanted this little debate to finally wrap up so you could finally catch some much-needed sleep.

“i thought i took away all of her princess magic?” satoru frowns, "stop siding with the enemy!"

you can't help but snort at his comment. mostly because, for whatever reason, he’s taking this dispute very seriously. so seriously that he doesn't seem to notice you're trying to do anything to finally get to bedtime. "baby i was just sa—"

"who says this dragon had to breathe fire anyways?" he interrupts.

when your toddler goes to respond, it hits you. "what about fluffy fireball?" you mention. it's a perfect combination of the two. well, okay, maybe not a “perfect” combination, but it's good enough to finish this debate.

if you weren't so tired, you’d stop and ogle the way they ask "huh?" in sync.

you shrug, "well, why not? he is pretty fluffy and spits out fire. there can’t be a better name than that."

your daughter holds out the dragon, looks at it for a while, then brings it up to her ear.

she gives the impression that he’s nodding his head before hushedly saying, "got it." she then turns back to face you and yells confidently, "fluffy fireball agrees!”

"well, i don't agree," satoru huffs. "the name is way too long an—"

“satoru.”

“but—“

"satoru," you say more firmly, and his shoulders sink as he mumbles "okay" beneath his breath.

your daughter lets out a yawn, and your eyes are immediately drawn to her. you signal for satoru to come over to the bed, and he does, bending down to your level.

“is my girl sleepy?”

"um," she pauses and looks at her dragon. "just a little bit."

"i can tell," you say, gently rubbing her back. you sneak a quick glance at your husband, and he looks the other way because he knows it's way past her bedtime. you sit up next to her ear and murmur, "i think fluffy fireball is ready to go to sleepy-time."

she gives the dinosaur a look before asking him, "y’wanna sleep with me?” then, she shakes the dinosaur's head up and down before exclaiming, "okay!"

you watch as she leaps out of satoru’s arms, and plops down on the bed. the room fills with giggles and the creaking of the bed as she scampers towards the middle. once she's next to you, she settles in and gets comfortable.

you can't help but smile as you see her tiny hands reaching out, playfully fluffing the pillows around her. then finally, with a satisfied sigh, she snuggles under the covers, cocooning herself in warmth.

she sets her dragon on her left side, making sure her loyal companion is there to do his job and look after her (the princess). it’s cute really. however, if that dragon becomes even a little bit too comfortable with the job, you know satoru will undoubtedly compete for the position. he'd say, "it can't just show up one day and take my job," or something along those lines. knowing him, he might even contemplate throwing it away—who knows.

you’re jolted out of your trance when your daughter asserts to her dinosaur, "you can sleep on daddies side, he snores."

satoru gasps, “i do not—“

“yes you do!”

“when have i eve—“

"guys," you sigh, feeling the weight of exhaustion in your voice. you cast a glance at both of them, making sure you have their undivided attention before pressing on. "c'mon, let's all take a breather and save the debate about your dad's snoring for tomorrow, okay?"

"but mommy, tell him he snores!" she whines. "he goes—" she cuts herself off to mimic satoru's snoring, and his face is priceless.

"now that’s just rude. how can you speak to me so coldly?” satoru scurries underneath the covers on the side of the dragon. and just like that, your daughter and her dragon are nestled between the two of you.

“this’ll be settled in a family meeting tomorrow. you two have already had one debate today. so right now? lets all go to bed.” you declare, then nestle deeper beneath the covers, closing your eyes.

as the voices of saddened "okays" and "alrights" blend together, a collective sigh fills the room. the sound of a click follows, and even with your eyes closed, the absence of light is unmistakable. it makes you feel even more exhausted than before.

you feel satoru’s arm slide around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. meanwhile, your daughter stirs slightly, searching for a more comfortable position in the cozy space between the two of you. you can feel her movements, her small body nestled snugly against yours.

you snuggle impossibly closer to your pillow, and take a deep breath.

silence, that’s what follows—and it’s nothing but peaceful. that is, until satoru bursts out laughing. "i don't snore," he blurts out into the darkness, his voice filled with mischief. "i just provide a little background music for the night."

it's at this point that you decide to be extremely biased at the family meeting tomorrow. he’s not winning a damn thing.

#(っˆ ³(ˊ ᵕ ˋก ) ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 ࿐ྂ #i think this is the cutest scenario i’ve came up with #and the best part is that it’s 100% cannon (bc i said so)#gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo headcanons #gojo scenarios #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen headcanons

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