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#i love their petty little arguments
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having the absolute worst writer's block ever just in time for solangelo week but at least the banter is bantering
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dirtytransmasc · 8 months
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Hi!!!!
Do you have any hcs for how Alicole would try and solve and argument with the kids? Like, their dynamic (especially Aegon with Alicole cause he’s the oldest) is just so interesting and I’ve always wondered how an argument/disagreement would play out with them
ooh, tasty concept.
with arguments amongst the children, they try and get them to take a step back. they'll each take a kid (or two if it involves all of them) and give them a hug or something of the like, easing the tensions, before helping them come to some sort of compromise or agreement.
when it comes to non petty arguments that every child has, the source of issues amongst the kids is the following;
with Aegon they have to settle his need to compensate for feeling as though he is lacking. he tends to pick on his siblings when he's feeling down on himself. so it's a lot of affirming words and hugs while also chiding his cruel behavior. he's definitely hard on himself about being cruel as well, he doesn't like being mean it just sorta comes out of him when he's not in good spirits about himself. he shoves his siblings away over little things when he's upset which only makes him feel worse in the long run. the whole situation makes it hard to parent, as it's not right how he treats his siblings at times, but it's also awful how he feels and how it presents itself. there's typically long talks after the fact. Aegon's usually in his dad's arms, more often than not, while he mom comforts him.
with Aemond it's cooling his temper and frustration, deep breaths and grounding. they remind him that he can't let every jab get a rise out of him, that he always had them to turn to when he needs help, that he's not alone to handle his anger. they try and learn more and more each time, what triggers his anger, what helps him calm down, what to avoid, etc. sometimes he needs to just be held other times he needs a moment alone to breathe. they also try and help him learn how to self regulate and also make his siblings aware that he's getting upset prior to him lashing out (they also talk to them about it).
with Helaena, arguments tend to be because she thinks so differently from her brothers. not only is she a girl in a house of boys, but also because she's autistic (I was the autistic 'sister' in a house of boys for most of my life, it definitely brewed some unique arguments, and I'm gonna project god damn it), their ways of thinking and doing are so different sometimes that she just loses it. so with her, they let her talk, they let her ramble and decompress until she can ground herself, then they have to try and explain the boys point of views, how they see may not be the right way, nor is hers, neither are, but they have to learn to agree. then it's hugs and kisses and talking it out, before they go back to hashing it out with the boys.
Daeron's the most agreeable with the siblings, very adhd coded in my mind (so I'm going to project my brother onto him cause they're very copy pasted in my mind) so when he gets into an argument it's because he's going too fast, too passionate, and/or too much. so again, like most of their children, it's grounding first talking later. like Helaena, they have to explain that the way he is isn't bad or wrong, but that's sometimes we need to slow down, take a breath, cool off, and than continue.
with arguments they take their kids separately, normally separated into different rooms and they visit them together. depending on the exact situation they may just offer hugs and softness, or they'll play a slight game of good cop/bad cop, though they're careful with it. the goal is to solve the problem, not slap a bandaid on it. they tend to each kids needs before handling the actual issue at hand and then being them together to find a solution.
they can both be soft and stern in their own ways. Cole is typically softer on them, as he gets to their levels, takes them close while talking, but he has a stern voice and makes it clear he's willing to put a foot down if need be. while Alicent tends to be a bit more formal and stereotypically authoritative, sitting at the table with them, even if she holds their hands in hers and pulls their chairs close so she can stroke their cheeks.
normally the kids can make right up, or at least come to peaceful terms, but if it doesn't, cause kids can hold grudges like no one's business, Alicent and Cole are forced to remain wholly neutral which is much harder than one would think. most of their fights that lead to grudges are very childish so it's really just waiting for them to crack and realize it was a stupid argument. this is made easier when they don't get involved, so they just laugh amongst themselves where the kids can't see them, and try and keep face in front of them (they can smell weakness and betrayal. send help. a 4 kids household isn't easy). they definitely have moments where they wave the white flag cause one of the kids accused them of siding. the "get along" shirt is also an active and well worn member of the family (Aegon and Aemond share it often)
this video is very much Aegon and Daeron. they feud often. they're either acting like Aegon is a second dad to him, or they are actually going to war and have been sworn enemies for generations, fighting a battle to honor their forefathers (Alicent and Criston are so tired). speaking of Aegon being a second dad, he definitely oversees a lot of arguments between Daeron and his friends... does he understand little kid drama? no. is it entertaining as all hell? you fucking bet, he wants to hear all about what little James did at daycare.
when the kids are arguing with them, which with the way they run the house is pretty rare, but not impossible, they first take a step back for themselves. they will never show anger or cruelty towards their kids, so they make sure they're ok before they even think about talking to their kids.
talking will always be their goal, they never want to use threats or punishments to get what they want from their kids, and they have different ways about it. because their kids know how their household works, that things work on their time, and that just being open and honest, they really just need a day or two to themselves, if the reason for arguing isn't time sensitive, and then they can just take it out.
Aegon is sulky, he just closes himself in his room or flees to a friend's house (which they let happen so long as he leaves a note, leaves his location on his phone, and checks in every few hours) if its really bad. he'll drag himself back to the kitchen table in 48 hours tops, wanting nothing more than for his mom and dad to love him again (they never stopped).
Aemond is just frustrated past reason, so he'll go out and fence with his dummy or just something physical, then he's more willing to listen to reason.
Helaena normally had a boundary or nerve pushed, which was normally accidental, either cause she was already frustrated with something or something changed and it just put both parties in bad positions. space is all she needs.
Daeron is a bit of all the above. he's sensitive, though hard to cross, its often more about other things, something his parent did just broke the camels back, so a long run brings everything back to reason.
Alicent and Criston care so much about their kids, every argument they have with their kids, typically one-sided as they refuse to truly yell, breaks their heart whether or not they did anything or not. they never plan to punish their kids for arguing, they were kids once and they know that its good that they feel safe enough to stand up and fight for what they believe to be true, that they feel safe to shout and disagree with them. they would rather that over anything else, cause they know their kids trust them.
while they aren't permissive with their kids, their are rules and hard limits, they don't count arguing as something to be punished, and their kids don't tend to strand into punishable territories. so resolving a fight is a long talk at the kitchen table, no man's land so to speak, where all parties air their grievances. the problem is discussed, apologies are said on all sides, and sometimes it doesn't always end in a hug, but it does end in feelings being soothed and bridges mended. no one walks away with hard feelings.
they're not perfect, but they make it work, and because they've put so much time and effort into making their home safe and sane, the whole family in therapy, making active efforts to be nothing like their first "home" true arguments are far and few between, and when they happen they're equipped to handle it. Alicent and Cole are such good parents, their kids love and trust them, theirs so much space to talk and negotiate and handle issues early on that there typically isn't any reason to fight. I think that's what makes them such a good family, cause its so hard for me to picture them actually fighting outside of petty things.
#I genuinely cannot picture this family fighting#like petty things between the kids or teenage angst hurled at Alicent and Criston that they laugh about a few hours later most definitely#they wouldn't be a family otherwise#but I think that real arguments are rare and I love that for them#definitely strived to find the balance between gentle and authoritative parenting so their kids are well structured#handle all of their problems when they were little and now most issues are easy#cyclebreakers fr fr#they're also all mommy/daddy's girls and boys#all their fights are just big feelings that need to be rode out#Aegon yelling at Criston cause he's young and dumb and hurting cause he got his heart broken at school or cause he had to think about#dead dumb dad and his teenage heart is angry and he needs to put it somewhere? I think yes. I also think he cried in his arms a few hours#later and begged for his dad to love him again. cause they're hopeless#Helaena losing her mind at her parents cause she's just so stressed and everything'd out by the world and they just happened to breathe the#wrong way at dinner? again. I think yes. and she felt so bad afterward and goes on a whole vent about school and people and does some DPT#after letting them both hug her really tight so she could calm down#Aemond getting frustrated cause they're “babying” him over the loss of his eye and just ending up a sobbing screaming mess cause he's just#so mad at the world and he doesn't know what to do with himself#Daeron's head getting too loud so he gets super upset and disregulated and starts yelling in his room. not even at them directly until they#come in. he just loses his shit for a minute until he's tuckered out and then he's a mess in his parents arms#teenage angst is a bitch and the source of everyone's problems#alicole#alicent hightower#criston cole#aegon ii targaryen#aegon targaryen#aemond targaryen#helaena targaryen#daeron targaryen#pro team green#hotd
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amateur-selfshipper · 2 months
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God I’m just. So in love with Jax y’all 💜
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soarrenbluejay · 2 months
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Since I’ve been encouraged to actually share my funny little blorbo ideas here’s another one gang;
Danny moves to Gotham on scholarship for engineering, because the Fentons may be infamous but they’re also insanely brilliant and besides both he and Jazz are showing every sign of embarrassed child of a super genius syndrome, so while the bats are keeping a close eye on him Just In Case, duke is also thinking of introducing him to the Our Parents Are Maniacs But Anyway club maybe after the first month or so.
Gotham does not go for standard dorm living bc of his ‘condition’ and lack of wanting to constantly spook/gaslight a roommate. Besides, living with two small children is a dorm sounds like a disaster in action.
So Danny signs up as a mechanic in Crime Alley, buys himself a teeny weensy lil apartment and Makes It Work. He has been all year after showing up with a de aged Dani and Dan in Amnity after all, and that had gone,,, fine? (The entire town, observing how Danny had been getting increasingly more uncomfortable around his godfather prior to the cloning incident, then just dropped off the face of the earth for several months, the first two weeks stuck in Vlad’s basement enduring horrors and the next Too Many desperately fapping around in the Ghost Zone to get everything handled. All the clones live, all 13 of them. Bunch of them are stuck in the Ghost Zone due to constant need for ectoplasm, but eh, plenty of Zone born never leave, so. One, in the future, apprentices under a green warrior lady on Pandora’s suggestion, another is working in the Eternal Library with Ghost Writer, etc etc. so Danny eventually came back to Amnity with one small child under each arm very obviously traumatized by Somethingn with vlad and doesn’t like being alone with him,,, or touched without warning,, and immediately and passionately proclaims the kids his but struggles to explain how or why,, look some very reasonable assumptions are drawn okay. So the town does the very reasonable thing and does the midwestern equivilant of excommunicating Vlad, except it’s a lot more run him out with pitchforks vibes since he’s the Mayor. Anyway)
He is immediately loved, because while non Gothamites are usually more of a pain than they’re worth, everyone in a while someone even from out of town will just fit in so nicely it’s uncanny for everyone involved. Addams family vibes, it’s referred to as ‘making it home’, just personal hc. He is protective of all the kids playing in the parks and street girls that can totally take care of themselves on their corners but find it HILARIOUS when he just tackles a dick like a wild animal full force no warning. He can fix anything it seems, but refuses to work with weapons. Reasonable enough, people get twitchy about gangs sometimes. Danny mentions being not against Hood or anything, but he’s not going to work for him, littles to take care of and all, but had past experience with ‘Dora and that inheritance mess with her brother he was being a real prick about’ so everyone assumes it’s the equivilant of him having Done His Time and being plenty good for a life time and respects it as long as none of that petty midwestern small town hotshots bring any of that shit over here. And they don’t, because said individuals are on the other side of the mortal veil, so happy day.
See I really love deaged!Dan because he’s just a grumpy lil guy. But he’s also killed millions. He’s so protective of his loved ones, but held back by blending in and also being Smol that it comes off more bitey kitten than anything else. Dani, of course, is a terror, so she fits right in with the crowd.
And sorry gang, but a bunch of kids on their own in Gotham in a poor side of the city just isn’t going to get any attention: that’s just business as usual really. What first gets attention on Danny is not his ‘condition’ or being mistaken for a meta (which he legally probs has an argument for even without the gene bc like these bitches don’t know how metaism works anyway so) or alien (I’m 90% sure he’d be covered by the alien protection act by virtue of being half ‘not from earth’), but because Danny despite best efforts is a Weird Guy.
He grew up in what could only be described as a low level villain level and spent most of high school dealing with smack downs and spiritual invasion. He’s never really processed that any of that is not in fact Normal. Also, he’s capable of making Anything if given the insides of a toaster, blender and alarm clock, and could probably rewrite the circuits of the apartment blindfolded and improve them 1000% even if it ABSOLUTELY would not be up to code.
And sure, things slip every once in a while, bits of spectral ice here, small floating incident there, but everyone just Minds Their Buisness ya know? You really gunna mess with the guy that personally ensured that when your car got flattened by a fight with Killer Croc, you were still able to get in to work the next day by some wizardry? Really?
But Gotham is a city so cursed it’s probably in the exponents countwise, so of course there is a) a flourishing community of magic users and assorted supernatural weirdos and b) a whole lot of shit for Mega Overpowered Ghost King Danny to idly pick at day to day in order to help with his protecting other Obsession. Gotham has plenty of heroes, but by god do they need the spiritual equivilant of an electrician/priest.
Still, Danny, as a baby ancient under a facet of Kronos and KING OF THE DEAD is like, way, way out of their scope to be able to grok, so it mostly just comes off as you know, a family of banshees or something. When asked, Danny very haltingly says he was briefly dead but then revived, which neatly explains his Weird Ass aura and makes it SPECTACULARLY AWKWARD to ask further about. So everyone nods politely, and goes back to their lives after double checking no nefarious bullshit was being pulled.
Then, of course, Vlad finally tracks them down. The whole neighborhood is altered in short order because he doesn’t bother trying to hide being a Rich Bitch or how he’s sneering down his nose at people on the sidewalk. Every connects the dots when Danny paniks. Dani and Dan’s daycare are staffed with some extra, very buff set of hands within the hour. Jerry, Hood’s third in command, personally shows up to the garage Danny is working at to talk things out with him bc he knows he does t like the deal with this stuff due to past unspecified circumstances but well, they guys had already started fucking with him, you see. Stole his tires, spray painted the windows, pickpocketed him blind, and when he retreated tipped off the police to the drugs they’d planted in the glove box.
Danny might not have been born in Gotham, but he was one of them. And the Alley takes care of it own.
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eumivrse · 5 months
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FUCK ME LIKE YOU MAD AT ME BABY (I NEED A FREAK TO DRIVE ME CRAZY!)
rough/angry sex ft. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso
warning(s) drunk sex + spanking (gojo), orgasm denial (geto), jealous sex + light bondage (nanami), car sex (toji), spitting + choking (choso), lowkey toxic, lots of degrading words, overstim, mention of safe word, breeding, creampie, squirting, cervix kissing, reader calls nanami ‘sir’ once, JUST A LOT OF SMUT IDK
note i’ve been equally horny for all of them lately ngl. also the title is so long but the song is stuck in my head ;0
tags @kurosaaki
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GOJO
it takes a lot to piss satoru off. he lets things slide half due to his lack of ability to tell that people are mocking him and the other half because of his huge ego.
but there’s always that once in a blue moon moment when he comes home from work, mind already filled with irrational anger. and it just happens to be the same day you have your weekly night out with your girlfriends and are out until the ungodly hours of the night.
and of course that’s fine and all, but when he saw you stumbling into your doorstep tipsy at 3 in the morning, the word rational has been far blotted out of his dictionary. he’d already drank half a bottle of wine by himself at this point from drowning in his sorrows and satoru is the mere personification of a lightweight.
it wasn’t long until your face is buried against your leather couch, ass up as he pounded into you.
drool seeped out the corner of your mouth, babbling, “satoru-“ your moans were muffled, your head forced down on the couch by his huge hand while he slams his pelvis against your ass, cock sliding in with ease. he didn’t even talk to you— as soon as you were ready to give him a hug, he flipped you over the couch and pulled up the cute little skirt you decided to wear today, pulling your panties over one ass cheek to not bother himself with taking all your clothes off.
he struck your ass with his palm, then kneaded the plump to ail the pain. “gonna cum for me, princess? hm?” you nearly shrieked when he slapped you again, this time with more force inflicted. but you weren’t going to lie— having him treat you like this is more like a gift than it is a punishment.
“yes…” your voice shrunk, heavy breaths in sync with his thrusts. clawing onto nothing, you bit the inside of your cheek, suppressing your loud moans, still sober enough to realize that it’s late and your neighbors are fast asleep.
he pulled out almost completely, leaving you hollow until he pistoned into you by pulling your waist against him, the head of his cock nearly prodding onto your cervix. “fuck… i love your slutty pussy, milking so— fuck— so well...” satoru’s inability to shut the fuck up even when he’s this close to cumming is something that continues to amaze you.
starting painfully slow, his impatience eventually took over him and continued to fuck into you with deep, yet quick thrusts that happened to hit your spot, fluid spurting out of your hole and onto his abdomen. you gasp, legs trembling while satoru’s hips stuttered, cock twitching inside of you.
“yeah, yeah, yeah— ah god…” warm cum filled you full, some leaking out and dribbling down on the couch. he gave your ass one more struck, and you yelp from the prickling pain.
“satoru?” you mumble, turning your head slightly until he started moving his hips again, leaving you speechless.
he yanks you by the elbow, pinning your back against his chest, whispering against the shell of your ear, “not done yet, doll.”
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GETO
“suguru, please…” you plead, eyes glossed with tears. you’re sitting on top of his lap, cock stretching your walls as his thumb brushed over your clit with lazy circles.
he just hummed, ignoring your pleas as he grabs the pudge of your hips, lifting them up and thrusting up into you, his balls slapping in between your ass cheeks.
you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder all week, all because of you started a petty argument about schedule differences. you knew he was busy, but his lack of communication was what pissed you off. on the other hand, he thought you were being unfair— he never complained when you had to work more hours than normal.
so if his words weren’t enough to get that in your head, then maybe he’ll just fuck it into you.
you rest your chin on his shoulder, hands draped around him as he kept a tight grip on your waist, switching between forcing you down on his cock and ramming into you himself by dragging his hips up and down. he gnaws on your shoulder, engraving your skin with his teeth marks.
“i wonder where you learned how to speak to me like that, love…” he breathes softly. his voice still has that tinge of tenderness in it, but you knew he was at his limit from the way he has that bruising grasp on you.
referring to the demeaning words you called him during your little quarrel the other day, he continues, “would you like it too if i talked to you like that?” when you didn’t respond, he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you into making eye contact with him.
“answer.” his firm remark only turned you on, whining with a frail, “yes please.” at this point you weren’t even angry anymore— you were so needy and frustrated from the denial of release.
he chuckles, a smug smirk plastered across his face, single strands of his raven hair stuck on his forehead. “you really wanna know what i think about you?” he shifts his hips ever so slightly, knowing damn well it pushes you further into orgasm.
sighing, he cupped your cheek with his palm. “whore.” he tapped your cheek with force, not enough that it was painful, but it was degrading with no question. “slut.” he slaps your face again and grabs your cheeks, your lips puckering from the pressure.
he jerks up again, feeling him stretch you so deliciously that you couldn’t bare to hold it anymore, and suguru can tell. he clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth, “cock hungry filthy girl,” he forces your face down to see with your own two eyes how fucking wet your pussy is for him despite swearing you hated him just hours ago.
letting go of your flustered face, you slurred, “please let me cum, suguru…” asking him in the first place was your first mistake, he only pressed his thumb onto your clit once more, taunting you.
he smiles, feigning innocence. “no.”
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NANAMI
kento is a patient man. he considers himself grounded with his emotions, but something in the air today made him act more crass than he usually would in this situation.
long story short, you were being a little too friendly with gojo during the work dinner where everyone else could see, and it didn’t help that you were defending yourself instead of owning up to it when he brought it up on the way home.
it was embarassing for him— made him seem like a little bitch that some other man had his arm around you, whispering jokes against your ear while you giggled foolishly as if your husband wasn’t sitting across from you.
so you should’ve seen it coming that he wouldn’t just leave you off the hook when you got home.
it wasn’t long until your clothes are scattered all over the master’s bedroom, legs pinned against your chest as he pummeled into you, wet cunt clenching around him like you wanted this to happen.
the sheets were stained with puddles and splatters of your sweet release, his thighs and your pussy coated with a mix of his cum and your slick.
one, two, three, four orgasms? you couldn’t even count anymore. your cunt was drooling, stuffed full with his cum, it was impressive how he’s still drilling into you with such ease.
kento is pushing on the back of your thighs to keep your pussy wide open, your wrists bounded with his leopard tie that coiled around the headboard railing. “hah-“ he grunts, “dirty girl. you have no idea how much i wanted to fucking kill that idiot for even touching you.” he grits his teeth when he felt your walls squeeze onto him, his sweat dripping from his forehead down to your tummy.
your mind was so blank, every degrading word he’s saying seemed stifled, apparent by your eyes knocking to the back of your head and the drool trickling down the corner of your lip. the only thing leaving your mouth were moans of his name and curses, you were starting to see stars as the pit of your abdomen tightened, a sign that you’re close.
“kento— i- hahhh—” your attempt on a warning had no purpose as clear liquid gushed out of you, and the shock of your release rippled throughout your body, leaving you numb. kento only fucked into you deeper and rougher, his fat veiny cock pressing against your cervix.
“squirted again?” he’s laughing, followed by a groan when he felt that familiar twitch on his cock. “do you think gojo can make you squirt for him like this, hm?” that question was just plain vulgar, but he’s expecting an answer nonetheless.
you hold onto the silk restraining you, sniffling, “no… only you, sir.” your loving, tired tone only put him in the state of euphoria, closing his eyes shut as cum coated your cervix, keeping himself plugged into you.
as he pulled out, thick ropes of white, viscous fluid leaked out your hole and down your ass, taking a dollop to shove it in your mouth. you willingly take his fingers in between your lips, licking him clean.
you thought he was done this time— until he brought the fingers that were in your mouth down to your lower extremities, caressing your clit as he slid himself inside you once more. you sigh, “kento— i don’t think i can anymore…” every muscle in your body felt sore, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to say that word to indicate you want this done and over.
he pretended he didn’t hear your pleas, rasping as he pried your legs further apart, resisting your reflex to close them, “remember this when you decide to fucking flirt with another man again, slut.”
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TOJI
this has to have been the third or fourth breakup in a span of 2 years dating this man. it just proved that you weren’t compatible for each other and the differing types of communication you two were comfortable with were clashing in the worst ways possible.
you were over it and decided to end it officially— for good.
however, toji wasn’t ready to let you go that easily.
his familiar black sedan was parked on the curb in front of your house when your first date after being finally single dropped you off. and of course, trying to stand your ground, you tried to tell him that you were done. to leave you alone or you’ll call the authorities.
but as they say, old habits die hard.
somehow you both ended up in his back seat, bouncing on his cock like you weren’t just trying to kick him out your driveway.
how else would have this toxic relationship lasted this long anyways if it wasn’t for the sex?
he chuckles, your nipple squeezed in between his lips, “what were you trying to say again? you’ll get a restraining order?” you were holding onto the handle of the car door for leverage as he groped your tit and smacked it, fascinated at the way it jiggled.
you hiss at the sting, “stop talking.” your collarbones were still littered with his love marks from previous nights and he notices them, “did your date even get a kiss tonight?” he teases as he took a chunk of your ass, manipulating your hips to move swifter in speed.
it was difficult to talk when he keeps slamming you down to the base of his cock, the sound of your slick smacking on his pelvis. “god— what is it— to you?” the incoherence with your words only provoked a laugh out of your ex, he thought it was funny how desperate you were trying to move on when it’s obvious you’d always go back to him at the end of the day.
you bite your lower lip, worried that someone outside could hear, but would that really help when the way his car is shaking gives it away?
he sneers, pulling your shoulder to draw you against his chest, face so close to his that you can feel his breath. with one last thrust, you yelped, keeping the head of his cock nestled deep in your cunt. “it’s just sad, babe.” he pouts, “you didn’t even bother to invite that bastard inside your house and instead would rather fuck your ex? was the date that bad?”
your mind was hazed, nodding before reaching in for a longing kiss, toji smirking against your lips. the date wasn’t bad at all but it was kind of a dud too— it just didn’t hit the same. nothing can compare to this.
he struck your ass once before gripping onto it again, moving your hips in accordance to his thrusts, tears welling up in your eyes as his cock jabbed against your sweet spot over and over. pulling away from the kiss, you chant his name like a mantra, “toji, fuck, mm- m’ gonna cum”
toji grunts, “okay, love. make a mess on my cock.” the familiar rasp in his voice was what set you off, and he was waiting for you to recuperate a bit from your orgasm before pulling your hips down once more, cock balls deep as he emptied himself inside of you.
toji curses and moans your name as you lean down for another wet kiss, feeling his cum pool in the pit of your stomach.
parting, he breathes, “still thinking of getting that restraining order?”
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CHOSO
choso already wasn’t having a good day for some odd reason. maybe the weather? didn’t matter either way. and of course, being the sweet girlfriend that you are, you tried your best to distract him from whatever was bothering him.
when warm food didn’t work, you tried turning on the tv, seeking for some sort of entertainment. well— you could say it worked in his favor, not because of what was on the screen, but because the boring ass movie was what brought you to the present.
your panties were peeled to the side as choso freely slid his long cock in and out of your hole with ease, his sweats just hanging below his waist, moaning at how warm you are around him. “oh yeah- mm- feels good,” he reveres, whimpering as he hovered over your face.
choso almost never initiates sex— you usually do, but oh does it feel ten times better when he’s pent up and uses you as an outlet to take his stress out on.
your facial expression was scrunched, pursing your lips from how deliciously you were being split in half. choso had one of your legs over his shoulder and him leaning down, which pushed your leg closer to your chest— allowed his cock to plunge into you in angles unimaginable, leaving your jaw hung open.
choso’s mauve eyes were piercing onto yours as he collects saliva in his mouth, then sticks his tongue out, the globe of his spit making it straight down your mouth. he forces your mouth close, “swallow, pretty.” watching you as his saliva made its way down your throat.
you caress his cheek, “use me, choso.” if this is what gets him out of whatever negativity he’s feeling then you’re willing to let him take it out on you.
pecking him on the small of his cheek, he sits up, finding leverage by grabbing onto your tits, groping on them while he thrusts into you with more impact, apparent by the sinful slapping noises that followed. you tuck your chin in to get a closer look of how he’s stretching you, watching as his spit lands on your clit, using two of his fingers to rub it in, reveling at the way its so puffy and just… so wet.
his other hand skimmed from your tit to around your neck, the pads of his fingers pressing on the side, making sure he doesn’t restrict your airways completely. he’s so fucking turned on by the way your face looks, eyes half lidded, lips swole and tinted from biting onto them so much.
you whine, voice faint from the hand around your throat. “so deep…” your leg was still over his shoulder, his cock hammering into you and right up against your g-spot.
“fuck, that’s it— take me in just like that, fuck—“ he was nearing his release, holding it in so you could go first, rushing through your orgasm by swiping your clit as he slacked his hips to give himself time. always so sweet even when handling you like this.
you were so cock drunk that your vision went stark, a huge weight lifting off your body when you let it all out, your slippery cunt making it easier for choso to go ahead and lodge his cock deep enough to jam his cum in, with the intent of not leaving a drop wasted.
he keeps himself wedged inside you, letting go of your leg and neck, tapping at your clit with his fingers for one last tease. you stuck your tongue out, choso grabbing your tear stained face.
“did that feel good, baby?” he asks and you nod sheepishly, unable to speak from his hold and your aching throat.
another ball of spit landed on your tongue and you swallow with that vulnerable look on your face. he chuckles, “what a nasty girl.”
6K notes · View notes
un-lawliet · 5 months
Note
WHAT IF teen!Gojo and teen!reader are best friends teetering on the edge of lovers but they get into a petty little argument and start ignoring each other right???? so reader goes on a date with someone else to be petty and Gojo internally freaks out. So, him and his friends get in disguises as Gojo tries to sabotage the date without being noticed but instead he accidentally helps the other guy look great and impressive every time💀
Geto, shoko, and Nanami don’t help Satoru. They just watch and laugh😭 good fluffy ending though pls
THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST !!!!! i loved this idea so so much- i kinda tweaked the request slightly but i hope this is ok <3 i love you and thank you for your patience !
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“Normal”
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- in which you’re on a date with someone that isn’t Gojo.
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“Does this count as stalking?”
It absolutely did count as stalking.
Gojo, Shoko, Nanami and Geto were currently huddled in a dimly lit booth hunkering down as to not be seen by you…or your pompous looking date sat opposite you.
“It’s not stalking.” Gojo splutters, glaring at Geto through the top of his sunglasses, “It’s just..just-”
“You tracking Y/N down and making us watch her on a date.” Shoko muses, rolling a cigarette between her fingers, reaching for her lighter.
“Exactly!”
Nanami groans, his head falling backwards, hair falling over the curve of his eyebrows, hiding his face slightly.
Shaking his head, a small grin dances across Geto’s calm face, watching as Gojo pouts and glares at your table, eyes completely trained on your face.
“‘S’not even that good looking, she just has a thing for guys that flatter her.” He grumbles under his breath, flicking the fancy wall he leaned on.
“Think most girls enjoy feelin’ pretty Gojo.” Shoko replies, hand still feeling around in her pocket, “Oh fuck sakes, I’ve lost my lighter…Hey- Geto, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare one on ya?”
Geto nodded, tossing her a purple lighter from across the table, smiling gently as she thanked him.
“You shouldn’t smoke inside.” Nanami mutters, now staring down at the menu in-front of him, finger tracing along the prices in thought, seeming to pause on the brownie section.
“No one can see, we’re fine.” She sighs, taking a drag and blowing it towards Gojo, grinning as he dramatically clutches his chest, gasping for air.
“What’s the point of us even being here Gojo.” Nanami huffs, side eyeing the bakery stand parallel to their table.
“Because, I need to show her that this..this loser is nothing compared to me!”
“I don’t know Satoru.” Geto muses, taking a sip of his camomile, “Y/N seems pretty into him.”
“Suguru!” Gojo gasps in horror, betrayal dripping from his voice and on to the curve of his disgusted face.
Shoko wiggles her eyebrows teasingly, inhaling before continuing. “He has a point Gojo, I mean look, you ever see her smile like that?”
Gojo whips his head around to stare at you, and Shoko covers her mouth to hide a poorly restrained giggle, sharing a glance with Geto.
“I make her smile like that- She smiles like that with me!!” He whines, and Nanami rolls his eyes.
A waitress smashes a glass from behind the café’s counter, you jump slightly in your seat and turn to look over at the sound, you don’t notice the group of strange looking teenagers ducking down at your movement, concealing themselves poorly in their seats.
Your date laughs at you, you blush and turn back to him bashfully, excusing yourself for being so on edge.
Gojo glares.
“So what’s the plan then Gojo.” Nanami drawls, resting his face on his palm.
“Yes! The plan!” Gojo splutters, looking away from your pretty, pretty face to look at the three of them.
He hesitates and Shoko groans.
“You do have a plan don’t you?”
“Of course I do!..So, the plan..the plan um, well-”
“He has no plan.” Geto interrupts.
“Jesus Christ Gojo.”
“Does that mean I can leave?”
“Shut up!” Gojo exclaims, “I’m thinking give me a second would ya?”
“Nanami if your leaving I’m coming with you.”
“Wanna go now Shoko?”
“Guys!”
Gojo slumps forward in his chair, his face resting on the table as he whines.
Geto rests a hand on his back and chuckles, shaking his head at the two other sorcerers.
“It’s ok Satoru, we can all figure something out ‘kay?”
“Yea?” Gojo replies, his voice muffled by the table.
“Yea.”
Instantly, Gojo springs up, his eyes as wide as his smile.
“Ok let’s brainstorm.” Geto suggest, his voice like honey as he removes his hand from Gojo’s back and reaches back to his tea.
“What if we spill tea over him!” Gojo gasped, pointing towards the cup in Geto’s hand, a sharp look crossing his face.
“Stupid. Y/N would see us.” Shoko grumbles.
“No- See Shoko, the point of a brain storming session means we make suggestions and listen without judgement.” Gojo argues, crossing his arms.
“Yea but your idea was stupid.” Nanami concludes, watching as Shoko nods.
“You suggest something then Nanamin!”
“I’m suggesting nothing, this whole idea is foolish.”
“OoOoh “Foolish” is it?”
“I’m leaving.”
Nanami stands up reaching for his bag, scowling at Gojo.
“Hey, hey Nanami c’mon ignore him he’s just..” Geto pauses with a quick regard to Gojo, “He’s just Satoru.”
“An idiot.” Shoko chimes.
“Yes, an idiot.”
Nanami sighs as he sits down, placing his brown bag back at his feet reluctantly ignoring Gojo’s grin.
“…What if we trip up the waitress as she’s bringing them their food.” Shoko suggests, twirling a piece of hair around her finger.
“That could work!”
“No, Satoru, that just causes trouble to the waiting staff.”
“And?”
Geto rolls his eyes, “We don’t need to cause anyone any trouble just because you’re too afraid to just ask Y/N out.”
“I am not afraid!” Gojo moans, putting his face in his hands.
“Uh huh, that’s why you fell out with her when she told you about the date.” Shoko laughs, wiping off ash from her arm.
“What was I supposed to do?” Gojo queries, frowning.
“Talk to her?” Nanami deadpans, “Like a normal person.”
“Our Gojo isn’t normal though.” Shoko winks, nudging an unamused Nanami.
“Focus guys.” Geto says, clapping his hands twice to draw attention.
Your sweet laugh echoes through the cafe, and Gojo pouts, shoulders slumping.
You were supposed to be sitting opposite him laughing.
It was supposed to be his food with which you shared.
And yet one petty argument about some random guy you had met in returning from your last mission asking you out, had ruined everything.
The shared glances between you and Gojo, how you leaned on his shoulder when you slept in classes, the way he would always keep an eye on your cursed energy when joining you in battle.
All those little moments had dissolved in the bitter moments after you informed him of your date, a small smile dancing in your eyes.
“He said I was pretty Toru’” You had said, your eyes wide, and Gojo wanted to cover the love sick gleam glistening in your eyes with his hand.
“I always think your pretty.” He mumbled, watching you cock your head in confusion.
“What was that?” You questioned, leaning towards him slightly, trying to recall his quiet words.
“Nothin’.” His curt response didn’t phase you as you moved backwards, a charming skip in your step.
“Think he sounds stupid.” Gojo was never good at expressing his true feelings, and in that moment, Gojo’s sheer panic over you leaving him overpowered his aloofness.
“You think someone thinking I’m pretty is stupid?” Your shoulders fell, and you turn to him, a small lour crossing your face.
“What? No? That’s not what I-”
“It what’s you said though Toru’” You sighed, and Gojo cursed at himself for the glimmer of insecurity that appeared to vex you in that moment.
“It’s just- Well he’s just stupid.”
“So you are calling him stupid for telling me I’m pretty.”
“No! He’s stupid! Not his words!”
“That’s the same thing Gojo!”
“Is not!”
“Is too!”
And now Gojo’s watching as Geto summons one of his smallest and weakest curses to push your stupid dates chair over, sunglasses off and held in his fist.
“Oh so we’re actually going with this plan? I wasn’t imagining it?” Shoko muses, stealing a forkful of Nanami’s brownie.
“Nobody else had any better ideas.” Gojo silenced, waving a hand in her direction, practically clamouring on top of Geto to watch.
“Satoru watch it, I can’t see where my curse is going with you on me.” Geto scolds, brushing the white haired man off.
“I can’t believe this is happening.” Nanami’s disinterest oozes out from his voice, nudging his plate over to Shoko who smiles brightly at his offer.
Geto flexes his hand, ensuring that the curse went unnoticed by you, it ducked under a table and weaved between chair legs.
“Make sure Y/N doesn’t see it!” Gojo panics, his hand covering his mouth.
Geto pauses, and looks over his shoulder towards Gojo, eyebrow raised.
“…Sit down Satoru.”
And Gojo immediately drops, hands on his legs.
The curse bobbles over to under your dates chair, and Geto smiles, before releasing his hold.
.
.
.
The sound of your dates chair toppling over boomed through the cafe, and with a swift flick of his finger, the curse dissapears, and all four of the sorcerer’s immediately drop their heads.
“Oh my God? Are you ok?!” Your concerned voice follows, and you stand up instantly, rushing towards your date, who grins at you from the floor.
“Oops, must have slipped.” He smiles, accepting your hand in helping in up, wiping the memory of his fall off of his jeans. “At least I have a pretty lady to help me in my moment of weakness.”
You giggle, and push his shoulder, “Oh shush you tease.” Bending over to pick up his chair.
“Oh no don’t worry I got it.” Your date winks, helping you lift the chair.
“How??!?!” Gojo groans, watching you swoon, “What is happening?”
“Man.. She must really like him eh?” Shoko offers, sharing a cheeky smile with Geto.
“Maybe it’s hopeless.” Nanami chimes in, “Do you want to finish this?” He asks Shoko, gesturing to the half eaten brownie.
“Actually?”
“Yea go on, you seem to be enjoying it.”
“Maybe.” Geto cuts in, “Maybe we should just leave them be? Let it fizzle out naturally?”
“What if there is no naturally Suguru.” Gojo mopes, kicking the leg of the table.
“Gojo it’s obvious she likes you, and it’s obvious you’re both smitten.” Shoko says, her voice muffled and she finishes Nanami’s brownie.
“..You think?”
“Everyone thinks.” Nanami replies, “Haibara thought you two were dating when we first joined the school.”
“How is Haibara by the way?” Geto questioned, “Why didn’t he join us?”
“Not sure, he said something about needing more sleep before his first solo mission.”
“Isn’t that next week?” Shoko adds.
“He likes his sleep.”
“Come on guys! Focus!!” Gojo exclaims. “I’m in a dire situation here!!”
“A dire situation that could be solved with a conversation, Gojo.” Nanami rolls his eyes.
“Try the curse again Suguru.”
“Satoru it didn’t work once, it probably won’t work a second time.”
“Ugh.” Gojo slumps back, a sigh escaping his lips. “If you’re all so sure Y/N likes me, then why is she with that loser right now?”
“She probably got tired waiting for you to make a move Gojo.” Shoko replies.
“Yea the “will they, won’t they” becomes tiresome after a while.” Geto agrees, pushing his empty cup towards the middle of the table.
“Ah!” Shoko says pointing over at you.
“They’re leaving Gojo.” Nanami affirms, joining Shoko in pointing.
“What?!?” Gojo gapes, “No!”
Geto laughs, shoving Gojo to his feet, watching you leave the cafe. “Go get her Satoru.”
“But how?” Gojo moans.
“Just go!” They all exclaim, and Gojo pauses for a split second before he’s bounding towards the door.
By the time he’s outside, you’re waving goodbye to your date, promising to call him as he walks the other way.
You look happy he thinks, and suddenly feels very out of place.
Gojo’s begins to turn to go back into the cafe, admitting defeat, when he hears your voice behind him.
“Gojo?” You gasp, disbelief permeating from your voice. And Gojo freezes, turning around awkwardly to face you.
“Hi.” Gojo replied, scuffing his shoes against the ground as he approaches you, hands in his pockets attempting to appear cool.
You look at him, your mouth slightly agape as you fiddle with the sleeve of your jumper, processing his appearance.
“You followed me to my date?” You ask accusingly, glancing around.
“He didn’t offer to take you home?” Gojo chooses to ignore you, refusing to acknowledge the implication of your words.
“I told him I could go back by myself.”
“Some guy.”
“Satoru.” You pause, lifting a hand to stop him, “Why are you here?”
A car drives past the pair of you, it’s headlights cast shadows across his perfect face and your hold yourself back from staring.
He stalls, looking at you for a moment. “C’mere, I’ll walk you home.”
“Satoru.”
You’re tired of his deflections, for once you just want to talk.
You both stare at each-other, silence decorating the air between you.
And Gojo shakes his head, stepping backwards and looking away.
“You look good.” He mutters.
“Good?”
“Pretty alright? You look pretty, he was right.”
“My date?”
Gojo’s sunglasses fall down the bridge of his nose slightly as he leans down to look at you.
“Who else?” He muses.
You don’t understand, your heart fluttering pathetically in your chest as you prove further.
“Why are you telling me this now?” You ask, your voice light, scarce of hope.
“Because.” Gojo hesitates, hating how unsure he sounds in this moment. “Because you are.”
You step towards him, it’s a slow movement and Gojo watches you almost cautiously.
“It took me going on a date with someone else for you to finally say something?” You tease, your hands shaking despite the confidence in your words.
“Would have said something without him, y’know?”
“..Really?” Your eyes widen, a tiny grin crossing your face.
Gojo nods, and you take another step and hug him, burying your face in the warmth of his chest.
And Gojo’s smile almost hurts his cheeks as he wraps his arms around your figure, pulling you in closer.
“You’re an idiot.” You mumble, looking up at him.
“But you like me.” He replies, cockily grinning down at you, blue eyes sparkling.
“Yea, I do.” You whisper, clinging to him, moving your head backdown to face his chest, face burning with your confession.
A small kiss is placed on the top of your head and you hold back a giddy laugh, pulling away from his embrace completely.
“So…Does that mean you’ll let me take you out?” Gojo questions, taking your hand and pulling you gently along to walk with him.
“Hmm I don’t know..Are you asking?” Your head leans on his arm, grabbing his arm as you walk.
“I would take you somewhere much better than that shitty cafe.”
And you’re laughing, “You love that cafe Toru.”
And he laughs with you, a long arm circling around your shoulders, pulling you impossibly closer to him.
And Geto, Shoko and Nanami watch from the window of the cafe, shaking their heads.
“Idiots.” Shoko says.
“Completely.” Nanami agrees.
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Masterlist <3
Feel free to leave a request !
A/N : HELLLLLOOOO PEOPLE !! ABBY’S BACK !!! thank you for the request sweets this is literally one of my favourite concepts ever I cannot cope!!!! I love teenage Gojo so much :( BUT ALSO Shoko <333333 — i hope everyone is happy and healthy, i finished this at 2am and i have school tmrw pls kill me rn i hope a car hits me when i walk in, genuinley this no longer a joke.
LOVE YOU
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jj-one · 28 days
Text
MIND GAMES ⋅˚₊ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
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── ✧ ˚. ꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ bf!Jungkook x gf!reader ˒˓ established relationship genre/tags. smut, v small amount of angst, fluff, thigh riding, face sitting, body worshipping, jk lowkey simping hella hard in this & we love to see it <3 words. 1.4k
**old repost from my deleted blog
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“Can you stop ignoring me please? It's driving me crazy.” You whine to your nonchalant boyfriend, urging him to mutter at least one word.
He has been giving you the silent treatment since this morning. You and Jungkook got into a petty argument that could've been easily resolved within seconds had he not just stormed out mid-convo.
Rightfully so— you were upset by him not wanting to talk things out and he got all defensive by saying you were ‘overreacting’. The bickering only spiraled from there and once you realized you had to leave for work you left without even saying goodbye.
You felt bad for not at least giving a peck on the cheek but you were slightly annoyed by how immature he could be at times. Once you came back home, you wanted to talk with him immediately to patch things up yet he's still being difficult with you. His silence was speaking mere volumes.
“So you're really going to play that game now huh? You know you can't ignore me forever Kook.” You snicker, all those pent up emotions filling you with an intense longing for him. “Can you say something?”
Jungkook remained quiet as a mouse, still refusing to speak, just sitting there examining you. Taking all of you in, basking in his own little glory. He wasn't trying to ignore you at first but now it has turned into a game for him. His only goal was seeing how far he could push your buttons until you break.
There was nothing more frustrating than craving someone's affection. His affection. Usually he'd give it to you on a silver platter, spoiling you with all the love and attention he could provide. But today — you were gonna have to work for it, and that you did.
Since talking wasn't the solution you try your best guess and think of something else. That's when an evil plan struck your mind — you were going to get a word of out him one way or another.
You were still wearing your work clothes so you strip naked right in front him, taking off every piece of clothing to only leave you in your panties. He tried to make it not so obvious that he was staring but you could feel his eyes on you the whole time. Still quiet, he looks up at you with his big, brown doe eyes — glancing over every inch of your bare form.
Licking his lips while leaning back on the couch he takes in all of you, losing himself in your alluring gaze. As much as he wanted to believe he had all the control in this situation, you played a deafening role in making sure this won't be an easy win for him.
As soon as you fully undressed you make your way over to Jungkook, subtly swaying your hips to send a rise out of him. Walking up to your boyfriend you find yourself straddling his thighs between your legs, the bitter silence only creating a thicker tension. His face looked so innocent, you couldn't help but go in to kiss him. Grabbing the side of his face to pull him in for a sweet, sensual kiss, molding your lips to match his hungry movement.
He was passionate with the kiss — almost leaving you winded by the end. You could tell that he's been holding that in since this morning, you couldn't open your eyes afterwards, savoring in the taste of him on your tongue.
“I'm an asshole, sorry y/n. I don't know why I do the things I do sometimes… but l'm thankful I have someone as patient as you in my life.” Jungkook finally spoke, his gentle tone brings you a familiar source of comfort.
Heated make outs turned you both into even more dangerous territory. A constant rush of heat surges throughout your body, leading all the way down to your aching core, you swung your head back in pleasure while riding your boyfriend's pretty, muscular thighs. The light-blue distressed jeans he wore showing just the slightest bit of skin to make you go feral. The weak, sweaty kisses in between rutting against him — the friction of his jeans grazing over your clothed heat, making you feverishly whimper out for him.
Jungkook couldn't keep his hands off you if he tried. Everything about you is absolutely stunning and perfect to him. His hands dance along the perimeters of your body, tracing every line and curve of your heavenly beauty — embarking on the notion that you are all his. He needs to show how grateful and lucky he is to have you more often.
“God... need you so bad right now..I don't wanna waste another second without having my cock inside you.” He keens, migrating his lips up the side of your earlobe.
He's going to have to put in the work to get a reward like that though.
“I want you to eat me out then we can talk later.” You boldly counter, not even giving him an option at this point.
His face lights up with an idea, “Wanna sit on my face princess?” You nod right away, letting Jungkook maneuver you to the side so he could lye down comfortably — he looks up at you with wandering eyes as you go in for another kiss. He hums into the kiss, moving his hands to grab your ass. It's beginning to become too unbearable to keep your panties on.
Breaking the kiss to remove your soaked underwear, you toss them on the floor and meet your boyfriend's handsome face once again.
The anticipation was killing him, he couldn't wait to devour your pretty little pussy already ;( As soon as you positioned yourself below him, he held onto your thighs with both hands — making eye contact with you as he pressed a kiss to your swollen bud.
Any minor touch to your clit makes you overtly sensitive, letting out a tiny mewl from the light action. His lips part open to dip his tongue into your wetness, “mmmh... fuck Koo” you hiss, already needing to brace yourself to not cum early. His mouth always works magic on you, leaving you with an earth-shattering orgasm every single time.
He flattens his tongue completely now, dragging a long stripe across your slit, drinking up all your essence, letting none of you go to waste. His face was so deeply buried into you all you could see now was the top of his head — grabbing a fistful of his messy hair to pull on later. You rock your hips back and forth to build more movement, grinding on his face while not having a care in the world if he could breathe or not.
From the looks of it, there were no complications on his end since he started moaning against you — the vibrations sending instant chills to your spine. You feel his nose brush up against your bundle of nerves, his tongue appears again to spread it’s brutal attack on your clit. His warmth on the sensitive sprout makes you jut your hips into a hastier motion.
“Shit... keep going just like that…i'll cum all over your face,” you cry out, feeling yourself close to making a huge mess and creaming all over his face.
“Cum on my face please, my precious little doll.” He only breaks away to say that quickly and attaches hisself back instantly.
Those words did it for you, it was like ultimate green light to reaching your climax. Two digits enter your weeping cunt and his tongue goes back to sucking on your puffy abused clit — the knot in your stomach tightens as he produces sloppier licks to your leaking folds.
A lusty, guttural moan escaped your lips, screaming your boyfriend's name at the top of your lungs. Jungkook keeps your hips steady with a tight grasp to help ride out your intense high; his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping. His face saturated with the glint of your sweet nectar, he licks his lips and savors the delicious taste of you, there's nothing that'll ever compare.
"So beautiful my baby.. so fucking gorgeous.." he chants under his breath, kissing the apex of your thighs. He'll never get tired of admiring your pretty body— or you in general.
Jungkook has always been more of a giver than a receiver, he likes to watch his partner writhe under him, loves when they cry and violently shake while he's giving them the most pleasurable moments of their life. He also likes to get what he wants in the end but that isn't always needed for him to be satisfied. He'll get his nut eventually, but in the meantime he's going to keep playing with you some more.
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fxrmuladaydreams · 5 months
Text
don’t touch her (mv1)
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max x reader , unnamed mclaren employee x reader
summary: max knows his feelings for you are wrong, you have a boyfriend. but all bets are off when that boyfriend gets aggressive with you
notes: this one’s angsty guys, also we’re gonna pretend that japan was later in the season just for timing purposes
warnings: physical fight, blood, a toxic relationship
He knew he shouldn’t be staring at you from across the paddock. He knew it was wrong on so many levels. You were a part of the Red Bull team, one of his coworkers. You were also dating someone from the McLaren team. Max had never wanted to hit Lando over the head as much as he did when the young Brit introduced you to your current boyfriend. But he couldn’t stop himself from searching for you in any room he went into, or at any media events or any meetings.
Max Verstappen could confidently say he was without a doubt in love with you.
He had grown attached to you quickly, being one of the only people he worked with that didn’t fawn over him just because he was good at his job. You treated him like a real person. When he was with you there was no Max Verstappen, there was only Max. You were a breath of fresh air, the calm in the storm that was his chaotic life. You were his quiet, safe space he could escape to when things became too much. He wanted nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and shield you away from all that was wrong in the world, but he’d settle for calling you his friend, his best friend.
Max liked to think of himself as a good person, the type of person that just wanted to see you happy, even if it meant seeing you with someone else. He promised himself he wouldn’t act upon his feelings, at least not while you were dating anyone. He wouldn’t dare destroy your happiness just because of his heart.
Max could also admit he was petty, so childishly petty. He didn’t like seeing you hanging around the McLaren garage during race weekends, weekends where you would usually be by his side, making sure he was ready to drive. Instead he had to watch your navy blue stand out against the bright orange at McLaren. It didn’t suit you, being surrounded by papaya, Max thought.
He knew he could complain about it to Christian. He could use his power to make you come back to him, but in doing that he may end up hurting you or your job. So he sat quietly and let his annoyance fester inside him.
He could tell when things started to shift with your boyfriend. When your long hugs and visits to the McLaren garage turned into brushing shoulders and arguments in an empty walkway outside.
Max tries to ask about, tries to help make you feel better, but you shrug him off, telling him that you’ll work it out, it’s nothing but a rough patch.
He asks if you’re okay, if there’s anything he can do to help. You give him a sad smile and shrug your shoulders.
“There’s nothing you can do Max.”
He’s never felt so helpless in his life. He hates that he has to see your face with tear stains over it, that your smile has dimmed in the garage. That you no longer search him out for comfort.
Part of him thinks he should have a conversation with your boyfriend. He thinks he should give him a talking to about how he’s ruining someone so special. But he knows he’d probably end up throwing punches if your boyfriend ticked him off anymore than he already has.
You don’t seem to get any better as the season comes closer to an end. Max tries to help you open up to him again, asking if you have any plans over the winter break. He even invites you to join him on his trip back home to the Netherlands. He tells you that his mother and sister would love to have you with them during the holidays.
You frown, telling him that you planned on staying near Milton Keynes to do some work at the factory.
He scoffs and shakes his head. “It’s winter break, I’m sure they can spare you for a little while.”
“I can’t take time off work just to hang out with you Max.” The words are much harsher than you mean for them to be, you can tell by the way Max takes a defensive step back.
He nods. “Right. Sorry.” Then he leaves you standing there to go to his driver’s room, or somewhere that just doesn’t have you.
Everything becomes clearer to Max at a party near the end of the season. It’s just after the Japan race, and Lando had insisted on celebrating the McLaren 2-3 as well as another tally to Max’s list of wins this season. The nightclub is filled with drivers as well as team members from each team hoping to let off some steam before the next race weekend.
Max doesn’t want to be there. He wants to go back to his hotel and sleep before he has to fly back home just to fly to Qatar a week later. But Lando and Charles keep putting new drinks in his hand, which promptly end up being left on random tables, and dragging him around to converse with everyone else that’s there.
He keeps an eye on you the whole time, watching as you wrap your arms around yourself, staring into the crowd on the dance floor. He can tell you aren’t really looking at them though, that you’re staring off into space. Your boyfriend comes up to sit on the stool next to you. He says something in your ear, to which you shake your head and leave, walking outside.
Max quickly pushes his latest drink into Charles’ hands and follows you outside.
You lean against the wall, attempting to get some fresh air after feeling a bit too claustrophobic in the club, but the heat doesn’t help as much as you hoped. You see Max as he steps outside and quickly walks to you.
“What’s wrong? And don’t say nothing, because I know you, I know when you’re upset and you can’t hide it from me. Is it me? Have I done something wrong?” He asks, his words spilling out quickly.
“Max, it’s not you, it’s just-”
“Y/n! Come on, we can talk this through!” Your words are cut off by your boyfriend who looks around for you, the smile falling off his face when he spots Max standing next to you. “Are you fucking serious Y/n?” He storms over to you, and grabs your forearm, yanking you away from Max. “Always running back to Max, huh?”
You yelp when he roughly pulls you to him.
Max is quick to put himself between the two of you, pushing your boyfriend with just enough force to make him let go of you.
“Don’t touch her.” He snarls.
You already know how this is going to end. Max stares at your boyfriend with fire in his eyes. While Max isn’t quite as tall as him, he makes up for the height difference in his strength. He’s got enough muscle to knock him to the ground in seconds if he wanted to.
Anyone with half a brain would know they’re in dangerous territory, being on the receiving end of Max’s intense stare, but your boyfriend refuses to back down.
“She’s mine Verstappen. I can do whatever the fuck I want.” He says quietly, taunting Max.
That’s all it takes for the first swing to fly. You think it’s Max, but your boyfriend is quick to throw up his own fists in defense.
It’s a mess of navy blue and orange as the two end up rolling on the ground, throwing punch after punch. Max ends up on top, straddling your boyfriend, lifting his fist to swing. You grab his arm and pull him off and away from the fight. You catch a glimpse of your boyfriend, well now ex-boyfriend’s bloody nose and black eye.
Max huffs, pulling his arm away from you and stalks towards his car. You follow him, practically jogging to keep up. You stop when you’re standing between him and the driver door. The lamplight illuminates his face. He’s got a bruise on his cheekbone, a split lip, his hair is a disheveled mess, and his fist is coated in blood, whose you aren’t sure. He’s avoiding eye contact with you, instead looking up at the sky.
“Max, why-”
“I’m fine.” He says when he finally looks at you. “Let me drive you back to the hotel.”
The drive back is quiet. You can’t help but keep looking over at Max, the streetlights passing by spread light over his face. He pulls a plain hoodie from the back of his car, pulling the hood up over his head. He keeps his down as he walks inside, attempting to avoid any interactions with fans that have decided to hang around the hotel.
He walks you to your door, then turns to leave, stopping only when he feels your fingers thread themselves through his. You gently pull him inside your room.
“Bathroom.” You tell him, steering him towards the small bathroom.
He sighs, knowing that there’s no use in trying to argue with you. He tugs the hoodie off and tosses it on your bed. He lifts himself up to sit on the counter of the bathroom, just next to the sink. There’s barely any room between where his legs hang off the counter and the wall opposite the sink, but you manage to squeeze between them with a small towel in your hand.
You run the towel under warm water, then bring it to his face, softly dabbing at his lip. He flinches slightly, pulling away. You apologize softly, then continue to wipe the blood from his lip.
You do the same with his hand, gently holding it in your hand and wiping away the red. It turns out to be mostly blood from your ex boyfriend, his skin only slightly bruised from the impact.
“You shouldn’t have hit him. You could’ve broken your hand. You wouldn’t have been able to drive.” You scold him quietly.
He gives you an incredulous look. “I should’ve done a lot more than hit him.”
You don’t answer, continuing to absentmindedly wipe at his hand. The blood is long gone, but he can tell you’re too lost in thought to notice.
He lifts your head up to look at him with his other hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks.
You shake your head. “You heard him. Always running back to you?”
“I like it when you come to me.” He shifts slightly. “I mean, I like feeling like you can come to me for, well for anything really. You should’ve felt like you could’ve talked to me.” He drops his head down now.
You can tell he’s starting to close in on himself, that he feels somehow at fault for this. It’s your turn to lift his head up this time. His eyes are welled up with unshed tears. He tries to blink his tears away putting on a brave face for you.
You gently swipe your thumb under his eyes, then hold his cheeks in your hands.
“This is not your fault Max. It’s my fault. I let it get bad, I should’ve ended it a long time ago. I just have a talent for being self destructive I guess.” You let out an unconvincing laugh.
He leans into your touch, letting his eyes flutter closed.
After a few minutes you begrudgingly pull your hands away from Max. He immediately misses the warmth on his face.
“You should put some ice over your bruise.” You tell him.
You step back, giving him space to hop down from the counter. He stands over you, but his height is anything but daunting. He looks down at his now clean but bruised knuckles then back up at you.
“Thank you.”
“I should be the one thanking you.” You tell him.
He clears his throat then shuffles around you, back into the main part of your room. “I should probably go.”
You follow him, itching to give him a reason to stay.
He grabs his hoodie from your bed and walks back to your door. He opens it, ready to step through when you call his name. He turns back to see you standing near the door as well, shifting your weight on your feet.
You take a deep breath then throw caution to the wind. You take a quick two steps to him and press your lips to his cheek.
Max freezes, only regaining a semblance of composure when you pull away from him.
“Thank you Max. Really.” You smile.
He gives you a sheepish smile and a nod, his cheeks colored with a light pink blush.
“Goodnight Y/n.”
“Goodnight Max.”
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fluffylino · 4 months
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hyunjin will do anything for your attention (psst maid dress ehe)
-contains mature themes
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your eyes landed on your boyfriend who was all dolled up. wearing a flimsy little dress. his milky white thighs exposed even more when he crossed his legs.
ignoring him, you walked into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water. you couldn't help but steal a couple of glances.
he had pretty pink bows in his hair. a cute bell around his neck.
quickly pretending to rinse the glass. when you saw how he quietly walked upto you. sitting himself on the kitchen counter. a few inches away from the sink.
right next to your standing figure.
you simply gave him the cold shoulder, walking right past him to place the glass back on the stand.
he let out an almost inaudible whine and you mentally smiled to yourself.
two days ago. the both of you had an argument.
it was pretty petty. yet you were still giving him the silent treatment. hyunjin had been busy. no doubt. however it always felt like you were the only one putting effort to go on dates with him.
of course he too would also. but it had been 2 weeks since their comeback. and he had a lot of free time. and whatever. the point was, it was mainly you getting annoyed to the extent you didn't pay any attention to him. it was mean. and maybe a bit funny. but you genuinely were a little hurt.
you had stuck a tiny note on the fridge the night before. after he had fallen asleep.
it read :
"i'll only talk to you if you actually try to and make an effort for me to forgive you. i don't care if it embarasses you.
- :] "
he seemed to take it seriously.
in the first 24 hours he bought all your favourite dishes and cooked up some spicy ramyeon. adding an egg on top because thats how you liked it.
of course you ate it. eagerly. not leaving a thing behind. you were annoyed.
but your love for him was still stronger. you couldn't possibly hurt him by not appreciating the effort he took. however you hummed casually. not giving him any response. simply brushing him off like he was non existent.
washing your plate and his before walking away to shower. hyunjin sat at the table, head down.
almost like a attention deprived puppy.
today though was different.
you looking forward to his next attempt.
the tv playing on thr background while you sat on the sofa. not a single thought in your head.
except for the images of your beloved boyfriend in that skimpy dress. not to mention thr fact that he was still loitering around in the kitchen.
you stared at your chipped nail. trying your best to make it seem like you didn't see how he carefully trodded across the room. choosing to sit in the space between your spread legs on the ground.
he sat sideways, long legs awkwardly placed on the floor.
his dress riding up his thighs. just maybe a centimeter more and you'd see his panti-
was he wearing pink lace panties?!?!?
you bit your lip subtly, tilting your head to the side, to peek at what was under his dress.
you were right. he really was all dolled up. not to mention the perfume that radiated off his body.
making you want to pounce on him.
shit you were looking. you averted your gaze so fast you felt dizzy. luckily he was too busy pulling the straps of the outfit up his shoulders to notice.
you could feel his gaze on you. so strong. so captivating. you were sure his lips would be jutting out.
was he wearing your lip gloss??!!!?.
the extra shiny pink shade that you'd only wear on extremely special occassions. damn, you were screwed.
you wanted to take him right there and then.
in the corner of your eye, you could vaguely see him looking up at you.
and you finally spared him a glance when he placed his head on the inside of your thigh. rubbing his cheek affectionately.
Sighing, you rubbed your temples. heart shattering upon seeing the way his expression dropped. eyes growing sadder. and slowly he moved away.
like a kicked puppy who was mistreated and ignored.
"come here" you quickly let out before he could get up. he scrambled up to his knees. elbows digging into your thighs.
"where did you get this?" you asked, carefully tucking a strand of his hair behind.
"online" he mumbled. leaning into your touch.
"m'sorry"
you couldn't stay mad at him. honestly you were fine. just driven by curiousity. "i know" you let out, sitting up to kiss him on his forehead. his eyes still closed as you pulled away. lips parted.
god, he was so cute.
.
.
"c-can't i can't hhnggh-" hyunjin cried out. bent over the short table. your strap pushing into him. it was a bigger size. the one that he was begging you to use on him.
"you can." you stated. raising your hand to adjust the cute pink bow that was clipped into his hair. it had come undone.
the sight below you sending waves of pleasure through you. his hole sucking you in.
lube all over his thighs. staining his pretty lace thigh highs. the bows had come undone. hanging down.
his dress pushed up on his back. displaying all his parts to you. dick hanging between his legs. leaking all over the floor.
"you're my pretty maid, aren't you" he panted, shaking his ass onto you. as if agreeing to you.
"y-yes...always at your service"
you smirked, kneading his plush skin. loving the way his lace panties were still on. torn from where you entered him.
"anything for you m-master"
"anything? careful what you wish for baby"
"i can take anything and e-everything you give aahh mhm...m-me"
.
..
.
i wanna write some more...but maybe with j-jisung........?
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lcriedlastnight · 25 days
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down in the grumps | lando norris
fem!reader. reader getting talked about behind her back :( and oblivious reader.
w/c: 2.1k
it’s not that you were being grumpy on purpose. most of the time you didn’t even realise that your replies to simple questions were short and snappy. or that your face seemed to screw up with or without your permission at something you had heard one of your friends say.
they were all used to it by now, after having dealt with it the whole friendship. and you of course, couldn’t help it if your first reaction to mostly anything you were told, was a blunt, sarcastic answer. your face always unapproachable, looking like someone had just told you the most annoying news of your life.
lando knew this when he met you. he even thought the same as everyone else, at first. seeing you chat with your friend, will, as he talks with his hands, excitedly over something. your face pinched in what looked like annoyance. it made him frown at first as he thought it was quiet rude of you to look pissed off when your friend seemed to speak so animatedly. of course as soon as will introduced you both and he got to know you he realised, that you were just unintentionally like that. you were interested in what he was saying, and yeah sometimes you did start pointless, petty arguments but lando had the ability to brush off your silly comments and instead tried to find a way to cheer you up. he had gotten so used to finding ways to make you feel less uptight that it completed skipped his mind that others might not be quite as unbothered by it all as him.
bringing you to the paddock for the australian grand prix had always been the plan. deciding that this weekend would be a great time to hard launch your relationship.
“do i look alright?” you ask, staring at your outfit in the hotel mirror, with a razor sharp gaze, analysing your outfit. lando’s eyes trail down your figure, analysing your outfit too, but with much more love and kindness than you were giving yourself. your face still set hard with the usual furrow of your brows and deep frown, making you look, for a lack of a better word, pissed.
lando leaves the bathroom and pulls your hand straight in the air. before you can question it though, he’s spinning you around lightly. this does ease your worries and makes a small smile appear on your lips for a minute. his silent reassurance spoken loudly through his eyes are they crease with his bright smile, hints of adoration shine through.
“you could’ve just said i looked nice, no need for the theatrics” you grumble out as you straighten up in the mirror and move to place a small kiss on the side of his smile.
lando cries out dramatically. “you missed!”. you roll your eyes and make your way towards the door. your way of telling lando you’re ready to leave. of course he knows this and is hot on your tail, his laugh echoing through the corridors of your floor as he pulls you close by your hand.
the paddock buzzed with cameras and fans and somewhere between them all you were sure there was drivers. you were actually really excited as this was your first time in the paddock.
lando could tell how excited you were just by looking at you. the way your eyes darted around, trying to take in everything at once, they didn’t move quickly though (that was how he knew you were nervous). the way you walked an inch ahead of him. your hand squeezing his as you recognise someone he knows, a driver or a team principal or even a mclaren engineer he knows well, excited to get to know this part of him too. none of this even noticeable to anyone except him, your face still showing your usual expression. lando thinks he likes it better this way, he likes having to read you to know what your feeling.
the first person you meet is oscar. he's sitting in the mclaren motorhome, with his own girlfriend. you fall a little behind lando, as he squeezes your hand in reassurance.
“hey mate, andrea wants to speak to you before you leave today at some point” oscar says, finding himself looking at you in confusion. he knew lando had a girlfriend, but he didn’t expect to see her. and for her to be so… mad? for seemingly no reason, lando was smiling wildly, which confused him more.
“cool.” lando replies as he pulls you closer to his side. he introduces you with a proud smile and oscar throws him a weary one back.
“hey, nice to finally meet you.” oscar says simply. this did not seem like the girl lando ranted and raved about. you hadn’t even said a word yet.
you shoot him a tight lipped smile and return the pleasantry, to him and to lily beside him, who responds kindly. lando pulls you tighter as he and oscar discuss something about the race. you listen intently, and interrupt when lando accidently gets mixed up with what he’s talking about.
instead of seeing it as you helping lando, the couple see it as rude, as you don’t apologise for butting in when you weren’t really even a part of the conversation. lando just sends you an appreciative smile, and returns to what he was talking about, which worried oscar. as he thinks he’s completely ignoring your red flags. he decides he’ll talk to him about it later, when you aren’t standing beside him looking like your about to kick off.
they chat for a bit, you chirping in, when you feel like it. none of it going unnoticed by the australian and his girlfriend. lando mentions something about dropping around the ferrari and red bull garages later on and you feel yourself getting excited again.
you and lando take turns at pulling each other around the paddock all day. lando only leaving your side for a few hours when he has media to do. afterwards he takes you to meet max, who tries to find checo for you but cannot seem to sus him out anywhere. he takes you to meet his old karting rivals, george and alex and then finally decides to take you to the ferrari garage, where carlos and charles stand with an engineer, discussing something about exhausts or something.
“lando!” carlos cheers as he sees you both arrive in front of him. he kindly abandons whatever it is he’s supposed to be listening to, charles following suit. they hug then separate, lando’s hands immediately returning to you.
lando introduces you for the millionth time today as you repeat your actions of a tight smile and a sharp ‘nice to meet you’ , something everyone who you met today noticed. carlos couldn’t help being surprised at your actions, also thinking that you couldn’t be the girl he had heard about from his former teammate.
charles smiles kindly at you and asks how you have been finding today, to which you reply a little less sharply, your excitement seeping through. lando watches on in awe of you opening up to his friends.
after a while of chatting to the boys in red, andrea comes running over, shouting about something no one can quite make out.
“i’ve been searching for you lando!” he huffs as he pulls lando to the side to discuss, something to do with the strategy for the weekend. you take this time to jump on your phone and update your mother on your day, her knowing about how excited you were about today.
carlos looks to charles as he loudly whispers “what’s up with her man?”. he wasn’t far away from you, and it seemed like he wasn’t even trying to be slick with it.
“what? what do you mean?” charles questions, a little confused. carlos just huffs.
“i mean, she’s so grumpy. she seems like she would rather be anywhere but here and lando is just standing next to her with a stupid smile on his face.” carlos frowns, only concerned about his friend, but hurting you in the process. charles hums a reply, not entirely agreeing but not disagreeing either.
carlos’s words make you freeze though. you didn’t realise you were being grumpy? you were just being yourself, so did that mean you were grumpy all the time? your thoughts tornado around your head as the self-consciousness sinks into your veins. did lando think this too?
speaking of lando, he finishes his conversation with andrea and makes his way back to you with a smile, his smile seemed to be never-ending today. his hand links with yours as soon as he is close enough. you immediately smile, forcing your lips upward as you try your best to not be ‘grumpy’.
lando notices this but decides to leave it until you were alone. “hope you guys weren’t listening”. lando jokes. it was a bad joke. no one laughed. charles just stared at him, almost disappointed and carlos just shook his head.
lando frowns and says “alright we’re leaving” and pulls you away. you make sure to smile at the two ferrari boys and wish them good luck for tomorrow, not a trace of sarasm in your words, which confused lando even more. he looks at you quizzically but you ignore it.
somehow you end up back with at the hotel within the next hour, after spending a good few hours at the paddock.
“alright, what’s wrong?” lando asks, almost as soon as you are both in your hotel room. you don’t hesitate before you ask, “am i grumpy?”.
lando looks at you, his face laced with confusion. he opens his mouth to reply but closes it again. he takes his time to gather his words, not wanting to upset you more than what you clearly already were.
“you are grumpy,” he says “but that’s how you’ve been since we met, i’m sure you were like that before, from what will tells me”. your usual frown deepens.
“i didn’t know i was grumpy. how do you put up with me?” you ask, feeling embarrassed at your unknown behaviour.
lando lets the confusion deepen on his face. “how do i- how do i put up with you? i don’t put up with you, baby. you’re my girlfriend.” he says like it’s obvious.
“i do support you. i did want to be there today.” you feel the need to prove yourself to him. to prove carlos wrong.
“i know, you were so excited.” he replies, with a faint smile.
“your friends think i’m grumpy and unsupportive” you tell him, not wanting to expose his friends but feeling hurt by his words. lando looks upset at your words.
“who? who said that? i know you wanted to be there today, baby. just because other people don’t see you the way i do doesn’t mean you aren’t supportive.” lando slowly makes his way towards you, his hands slowly making their way up your arms.
it was weird seeing anything different to your usual expression on your face but he couldn’t help but feel he peeled back a layer of you. it made it him feel happy for a second. his eyes bore into yours, making you feel intimidated.
“i like knowing things about you no one else does. i like knowing how you’re feeling just by looking at you, who cares if everyone else thinks you are grumpy. just makes you my grumpy girl, doesn’t it?” he smiles, trying to cheer you up a little.
a smile graces your lips. mission acomplished, he thinks. he lets his hands gently hold the sides of your face as he lets himself take in your face, looking at it like he’ll never get the chance again. you feel your breath hitch as he moves closer.
lando smiled at the sound before he lets his lips press against you. it wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t passionate. it was reassuring. it told you everything was okay. he pulls away before you would like. you chase his lips as he laughs.
“you’re cute,” he says. “what do you say to an early night?”. you nod, the busy day and the unusual mix of emotions, exhausted you.
you both get unready next to each other, doing your nightly routines in sync. lando trying to make you laugh as you both brush your teeth in front of the bathroom mirror.
once you lay in the bed, wrapped up in him his words finally sink in. as long as you are both secure in your relationship, what does it matter if people think you’re grumpy. you’d never smile again if it meant lando would love you for the rest of your life.
....
l's radio: if this is bad pretend i didn't post it i cba to proof read, i'm too tired from getting up at 6 for the gp today :(
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mrsoharaa · 5 months
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because i was inspired by a tiktok lol
You and Miguel get into a silly little argument before getting ready for bed. After finishing up your nightly facial routine, you crawl yourself into your shared bed. Pulling the comforting sheets over your body with slight assertiveness and aggression, wishing nothing but the pure serenity and peace slumber that was calling to you.
Exhaling one last huff, you felt the bed dip and creak on the opposite side of your own. Overwhelming heat basking off from his looming body, searing breaths prickling over the shell of your ear as wide, large hands gently caress the mount of your covered hips.
You were still angry with him, wanted nothing more but to forget the dumb argument and drift off into a sweet, sweet trance. To numb all of your senses and irrational plundering thoughts.
But一 Miguel was making it that much harder to simply forget.
His lingering touch always made you mold beneath his comforting, torrid graze. Soft, low whispers of feeble apologies in his Spanish tongue and cute pet names always tugging profusely at your conflicted heart.
No, you shouldn't give in. You were mad at him and he needs to know that.
Stand your ground.
Don't give in.
You try your absolute best to compose yourself into giving in to his subtle attempts of wooing you to his luring charm. You could still tell he was still on edge by the tensity in his muscles and heavy breaths, but the fact that he was derailing his pride and ego just to sincerely apologize and get closer to you made you question your own prideful distributions.
You tried.
But the moment his lips were seamed against your ear lobe, hands wrapping around your body to pull you back into his towering frame as he draws delicate shapes amongst the thick sheet shielding your cute belly一 all sense of pride and determination immediately deteriorated from your puttied mind.
"Lo siento mucho, mi amor... No quise decir nada de lo que dije antes...." he whispers huskily into your ear, feeling your body intensely tense under his grasp. He kisses the outskirt of your ringing ear, tenderly. ("I'm so sorry, my love… I didn't mean anything I said before...")
"let me hold you...I just want to hold you, hermosa" he clings onto you more desperately, strong arms tugging you much closer into his firm chest as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. Warm breaths permeating into your warm flesh.
Instantly, you turn over to face him, cup his face and push your lips onto his with such vigor and passion. The taste of his full, sweet lips melding with yours blinding your petty decisions and tampered with your heart and mind.
Your fingers softly caress the solidity of his jaw, pressing your body into his as you hum lowly against his addicting, silken lips. Feeling him immediately, promptly follow your lead, you carefully pull away to take a breath. Allowing him to do the same, but with a tinge of distraught and dejection craning to his hefty breath.
Lidded large, round eyes of mocha following your every motion, finally connecting with your own wandering eyes.
"How can I stay mad at you when you talk to me like that, Miguel?...god, I hate that you have that sort of power over me" you breathe heavily, ghosting your lips just centimeters away from his as you feel the pads of his fingers slip into the sheeted cover and onto the bare of your torrid skin. Your own digits subtly grazing over his warm cheeks.
He gently places his forehead against yours, delicately tugs at your hips and inches closer to your lips.
"I could say the same thing about you, cariño..." he whisks mindfully.
"Just let me embrace you...I want to wrap myself around you and hold you...let me love you like you deserve, mi corazón"
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writingsbychlo · 7 months
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LAST TIME | tom riddle
summary; things just aren’t right between you and tom. when you suggest a break up, however, tom is ready do anything to make it work.
word count; 4153
notes; honestly pure smut. I say tom is willing to do anything but what tom does is just give some really good orgasms. and somehow, it’s still better than 90% of men out there, so.
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“You… want to break up?” The clock in the room seemed to tick louder than ever, the seconds dragging on longer and longer as Tom stared at you in disbelief. There was a bottle open between you, two glasses of whiskey poured but neither of them touched, as he stared in shock. “Why?”
“Because this isn’t working, Tom.”
He picked up his glass now, taking a heavy gulp from it, his brows furrowing as his throat bobbed, until only the empty Crystal was back on the table. He filled it up again. 
“Tom—”
“Just let me think for a second.” You sighed, his gaze flickering over to you, and he softened for just a moment. “I’m trying to work out what to say.”
“There is nothing to say—”
“There has to be!” He slammed an open palm down on the wood, the table rattling and your drink shaking in its glass, his mumbled apology belaying his regret as he glared. At you, at the wall, at the clock still loudly tickling the seconds by. “Why?”
“Because this isn’t—”
“Don’t say this isn’t working. It works perfectly for me, so if it’s not working for you, tell me why. Tell me what I did, what I can do.” You reached for your own glass now, sliding it across the table and taking down the contents in one. Pushing the empty glass toward him with one finger as your throat burned, he filled it up, cupping your hand and pressing the glass into the other. “We fight all the time, I get that. But you love the fight, I know you do. But you’ve never—you yell, I shout, we fuck it out and we’re fine. This isn’t right, you don’t sit here calmly and tell me you want to break up, so tell me what to do.”
“I can’t tell you, Tom. I don’t know. I just know I can’t do this anymore.”
“But why?”
Exasperation burned through your veins, the words ‘It’s not working’ sitting on the tip of your tongue, and you had to bite it to stop them from coming free. 
“I want to work through it. I want you to tell me every goddamn little thing that’s wrong. We’re not leaving this room until it’s right, do you understand me?” His fingers curled on the tabletop, a fist forming, nails no doubt digging into his palms, and you sighed. He may be making it sound like demands, but you both knew it was a question, a desperate plea not to give up on him. The kind of desperation you’d never heard from him before, and it was the only thing that made you stay. “Please.”
“I’ll stay, Tom. I’ll talk, but I make no promises, because I just don’t see this working out.”
“I’ll make it work.” There was so much conviction in his tone that you almost found yourself believing it. “First issue.”
“Tom—”
“First issue.” He insisted, and you ran a hand down your face. 
“Okay, fine.”
And just like that, the night melted away. Hours slipped by in a blur of petty arguments, Tom’s eyes boring into your own as he fought and conceded, edging closer and closer to you throughout the night. 
You resisted for only so long, the first drink gave you the confidence to tell him that you needed more. His cold attention wasn’t enough, you needed love and passion, you needed his vulnerability and his emotions, you needed his trust and his confidence to take down those walls. 
The second drink gave you to confidence to yell, shouting about the kisses he denied you in public, the affections you dreamed of that he never delivered, the activities he got up to that he’d never tell you about. The friends he kept a secret. The times he’d disappear from you for days only to reappear with no word, yet demand to be a part of every single aspect of your life. 
The third brought you closer, barely resisting his advances as you fought tears, fought anger, fought every overwhelming emotion that was almost spilling out. 
The fourth brought peace. The fourth brought silence, whispered promises you were inclined to believe, as he all but crawled and knelt. He begged for forgiveness, a sight never before seen for Tom Riddle, when your stubbornness reared a new, alcohol-filled strength, urging you towards the door to leave him behind. 
The fifth brought solace and warmth. The fifth brought the end of the argument. 
The firewhiskey was almost gone, a comfort flooding through both of your bodies enough to loosen your lips beyond the hesitation you both held, and you knew if you drank anymore, all progress would be lost. Swiping up the bottle from the table and putting the stopper back in, you took it towards the shelf, feeling Tom’s eyes track your every movement through his dorm. 
You placed it back within the cabinet, its rightful place between the other vintage bottles, displayed proudly like it wasn’t contraband to be hidden, his arrogance never more prominent. For some reason, you loved that. It had always been one of the things that had attracted you to him, his intelligence, his confidence, his sexy self-assuredness, but it just wasn’t enough anymore. 
As you slowly walked back toward your seat, Tom’s calloused hand wrapped around your wrist, bringing you to a halt by his chair. Another soft tug, and he was bringing you down across his lap, arm snaking around your waist to hold you close to his chest. 
“Tom…”
“Babydoll…” His whisper was lost to the air between you, a space that was closing as he leaned in. Slowly, slowly, giving you time to pull away, but you couldn't. Everything about him was your weakness, you’d never been able to leave him, not since the day you met him all those years ago, and you’d never be able to leave him now. “Let me back in. Love me again.”
“I do still love you, Tommy.”
“Then let it be enough. Trust that I’ll do whatever it takes.” His lips met your cheek, suddenly, firmly, over far too quickly as he rested his head on your own. “I know I’m hard to love, but if you do love me too, then please trust me.” 
Another kiss, your hand cupping his jaw, a whimper slipping free as he pulled back again. 
“Have some faith in me.” 
Another kiss.
“Don’t leave me.”
“Kiss me, Tommy.” You sighed, tugging him forward and crashing your lips against his. He didn’t hold back, mouth slanting with your own as he sat up in the chair, holding you tighter to his body. His mouth was insistent, forceful and commanding just like every other part of him, lips coaxing your own apart until you were panting softly into his mouth, his tongue slipping through to tease your own. 
He tasted of whiskey, faint traces of coffee and sugar, a heady mix that you were drowning in. His hands traced slowly across your body, dragging and gripping, tracing like he was trying to memorise you, in case it was the last time he ever got the chance. 
You wanted more, you needed more, hands in his hair, messing up all those pretty curls and tugging him closer as you tried to twist in his lap. Unsuccessful, your legs still dangling over one of his as you sat sideways, a whine slipping free. To get more you’d have to stand, your hand raking seductively down his chest, nails scratching through the fabric of his shirt. You stood, or tried to, barely making it onto shaking feet before he was nipping at your lip with a cut-off grunt and tugging you right back into his body. 
In one swift moment he was standing, cradling you sideways in his arms and carrying you across the room. A second later, you were lay on the bed, head pillowed by the quilts as he finally pulled back. 
Those hands kept exploring, knees bracketing your body as he pushed your shirt up, up, up. He kissed at every newly exposed patch of skin, all across your stomach and over your breasts, reverent and tender, tongue swiping across your skin until you shivered, lips promising his love into your flesh. Until, you were sat up, slipping the top over your arms and letting him cast it away to the floor, his mouth working across your jaw, head tipped back to let him. 
Your own hands went to his back, scratching down until you caught the hem, far less care and far more desperation as you yanked and tugged, pulling at the shirt until he was reaching behind his head to help you strip him of it, your fingertips falling back to the bare skin of his chest. Firm, warm muscles twitched under your touch, your back hitting the bed again as his mouth collided with your own, backed into the sheets and surrounded by every inch of him, his presence filling the room, filling the air you breathed. 
“Tom…”
His grip shifted, one hand leaving the bedding to skim across your hip, under your body to the flat of your back, and lower. Cupping your arse he lifted your hips, just enough to slot himself between, and oh, delicious pleasure as his hips rocked into your own. Straining through the thick denim of his jeans, Tom pressed his hard cock into you, dragging every torturously clothed inch over your damp centre, ruined panties catching on the material and twisting, making it all the more thrilling. 
He did it again, and again, your bodies rolling together, clothes the only barrier keeping you apart as his mouth claimed your own. Moans and whimpers bounced off of every wall, each deep, grunted sound he let out was like a high, ricocheting along your body and making your head spin. 
“Fucking hell, babydoll,” His words were choked out, foreheads slick where they pressed together, panting breaths washing over your cheeks as he kept you moving against him, even as you became weak, even as the pleasure made you tremble, nearing that precipice already. “You’d walk away from this? Don’t you feel the way I do? You’re in my blood like a goddamn drug.”
Then, it was all ripped away, a pathetic wail falling from you as hot pleasure became cold disappointment, your hips dropped back to the bed. One of your shaking hands was cupped in his own as he pulled away, enough to sit up, kneeling between your spread thighs and dragging your hand to his chest. 
Under solid muscle, his heart pounded, fast and irregular, beating like a drum. “For you, alright? This beats for you, and you alone.”
Like a knife through the tension, the haze was severed, a refreshing touch of cold on your sex-addled mind. Climbing up, into his lap as his hands gripped your hips, your own reached for his face, tugging him into the most tender and loving kiss you could muster in the heat of the moment. 
His tongue slides over your own, your nails rake down his chest as you settle into his lap where he kneels, both of his hands kneading your ass. He shudders, your fingers grazing along the defined lines of his abs, and his breathing starts to shallow as your fingers press along the bulge in his jeans. 
Bucking up, his lips stop working your own, letting you take control of the kiss as his strength starts to wane, your teasing touches along his cock making him squirm underneath you. Squeezing him through the denim, he moans into your mouth, loud and unashamed, and your smirk makes him bite at your lower lip until you gasp. 
“I’m— fuck, I’m really trying to be romantic here, to make love to you, take it slow. You’re making that real fuckin’ hard for me.”
“I can feel how hard I’m making it for you, Tommy.”
It was unfair, perhaps, to taunt him so much when he was only doing what you’d asked, to show his affection rather than just assume you knew, to love you properly, but that's not what you wanted right now. Right now, as you’d stared him in the eye and faced the possibility of losing him, you just wanted him, in his rawest form. 
“Tom, baby—”
“Stop teasing me.” He all but growled the words, hips rolling into your palm now as you squeezed with rhythm, one of his hands slipping beneath the layers of your clothes, sliding over your ass from behind until one fingertip circled your dripping entrance. “Stop teasing me, or you won’t come for hours, do you hear me? I’ll make you cry and beg and scream, I’ll drive you to the edge of your goddamn sanity the way you make me, and maybe I won’t even let you come then.”
With those final words, he plunged a single digit inside of you, your back arching against his chest as he hummed, lips tearing apart as your body bowed to his. Pumping slowly, he left peppered kisses along your exposed collarbones, his other hand trailing teasingly up your spine, undoing the clasp of your bra with a flick of his fingers. 
Jerking it free from your body shakily, he let out a primal noise as you threw it away, lips wrapping around one nipple, teeth tugging the taut bud. 
“Oh, fuck, Tommy…”
“That’s right, doll. Moan my fucking name.” He did it again, a second finger slipping inside of you, chasing out every sentient thought you had. 
Your fingers were shaking as you reached for his jeans, tugging at the button and zipper until you could get them down. Finally, you pulled him free from the confines, and relished in the sound he made against your skin as you swept your thumb over the dripping head of his cock. 
Sitting there, half in his lap as he finally brought you closer and closer to your ruined orgasm, you pumped his cock slowly, nuzzling your nose against his own, feeling the beat of his heart against your hand on his neck. Steady, thumping, a beat just for you as he promised. 
His skin was wet under your touch, hot and soft and slick, your fist sliding over him, twisting just how you knew he liked. He may know your body like the back of his own hand, but you knew him too. You knew every trick that made him weak, every touch and spot that you could exploit to bring him to his knees before you, if you so wished. Tom Riddle may scare everyone away, may put on his façade to the world, but he was your lover, your heart and soul, and he bared himself to you alone in this vulnerability. 
Tracing your thumb over the head, you squeezed his cock, another bead of precum, dribbling from the slit and lubricating his skin under your palm. His mouth left your skin, head tilted back. Those pretty brown curls were already plastered to his forehead, sex and love hanging heavy in the hot air, and when your eyes locked with his half-lidded ones, you knew you weren’t going anywhere. 
Like a silent oath, one he could read in your gaze, he knew it too. It would never be so easy to leave, to walk away from him, from this. Things may need to change, but you’d work through them together, because you couldn't just leave him. 
Your lips slammed together once more, passion and promise, sealed between your mouths as he moaned your name against your tongue. 
It was just like that, with his body swearing his dedication into your flesh with every touch that you came, crying his name as you unravelled around his fingers, letting him whisper and coax you through it. Your body was shaking in his, leaning into him for support, his lips at your temple. 
“Was that good, doll?”
“So good, Tommy.” Your breathless bliss was short-lived, before you could process it, he was pushing you backwards one hand on your chest firmly pressing you into the sheets, and a smirk on his lips as he looked down at you. 
“Good, it’s only getting better from here.”
His movements showed no gentleness as he tore at the rest of your clothing, your body half dragged down the bed as he stripped you bare. Heat roared through your veins and a blush coated your cheeks, the same way it always did when he manhandled you in such ways. He stripped off his own clothes, nearly tearing the fabric from his body until he was as gloriously naked as you were, every inch of pale, scarred, perfect flesh exposed to you. 
His grip on your thighs was bruising as he pressed them apart, hardly giving your foggy mind a moment to process, giving your body no chance to truly settle, before he was on his stomach before you, tongue swiping up the evidence of the orgasm he’d just wrung from you in his lap. 
You jolted, one hand flying to his hair as the other gripped the sheets in your fingertips, a scream on your lips as he lapped the flat of his tongue across your sensitive clit. “Tom, oh, fuck!”
He moaned in response, the feeling buzzing across your skin as your hips ground up against his face, every part of your scrabbling for purchase as you sank into the pleasure of it. He went again and again, fingers gripping your thighs, holding them parted for him, before finally, he sucked your clit between his lips, and you sobbed out an attempt at his name. 
“Tom, fuck, fuck— I can’t—”
“Oh, let’s not lie, doll.” He pulled back, a sharp smack across your clit, a skittering pain that made you clench around nothing, so hard you swore you’d cramp, “We both know you can, and you will. You’ll come all night if I decide it. Now, be a good girl.”
“You’ll be the death of me, Tom Riddle.” Your words were stuttered out between heavy, panted breaths, and he chuckled as he resumed his work. The dark declarations of adoration were always something he had loved, especially when he had you on his tongue, driving you mad. 
Over and over he worked, kissing, licking, sucking, biting, until your eyes were rolled back in your head, writhing in the sheets, dripping just for him to lap it up, his name like a mantra, all you could think of. Your climax teetered on the brink, your hips rolled up unto his face, chasing with such wanton need that all shame went out of the window and your fingers twisted where they were buried in his dark hair. 
“Tom, I’m—”
“Gonna’ come? You there already, doll?” You would feel embarrassed for his taunts if you weren’t so needy, like a bitch in heat, and you just nodded. A whine slipped free as he pulled back, tears in your eyes threatening to come free as you were denied once again. The bed dipped, and before you could curse, before you could hate him for taking it all away again, his thick cock parted your folds, slamming into you in one quick thrust, and you exploded. 
His hips rocked, ever so gently, dragging out your orgasm until the flutters of it faded, leaving only blissful peace in its wake. Your hands hooked under his arms as he fisted the bedding on either side of your head, kisses left on your collarbones until your body finally calmed down, and he let his mouth trail up to your own, lips brushing. 
“You belong to me, do you understand that? Just like I belong to you.” His body shifted, hips rolling back, until he was barely inside of you anymore, only for a single, deep thrust to have you crying his name, digging your nails into his flesh, praying for anything. “I’m all yours.” 
Another thrust, another cry, scratches down his back that made him hiss in excitement. 
“I don’t care how I prove it to you, I’ll carve your name into my goddamn skin if I must, whatever it takes for you to see it.”
He kept it up, the deep pace, the meaningful words, all whispered into your ear as he sucked bruises into your skin, marking you as his the way he promised he’d mark himself too. Your love with him was brutal, it was harsh and sometimes cold, but nobody loved hotter than Tom did either. 
If you asked him to, there’s no line he wouldn't cross, nothing he wouldn't do for you, and his dedication showed. It showed in the way he fucked you, holding your gaze and stopping until you looked back to him, fighting the roll of your eyes to the back of your head, or the shaking of your body so hard you could barely breathe. It showed in the hand that slipped up your skin, fingers sealing around your throat as he began to lose control, fucking without sense as he chased his own high, your core squeezing around him so tight he could barely spit out his curses and praise before losing to the end too. 
It showed in the way he hugged your body to his, skin to skin, everywhere you touched as his release filled you, dripping and escaping around his cock as he fucked the both of you through the final moments of shared ecstasy. 
It showed in the way he collapsed down on top of you, all walls gone in these few moments, shaking as much as you were as his body smothered your own. Your hand in his damp hair, the other stroking up and down his back as he continued to whisper mindless adoration and poetic love in your skin, kisses and touches that made you understand his devoted worship. 
“Tommy…”
“Right here, doll. M’right here with you, I’m all yours.”
He lifted himself at last, balanced on one weak elbow to look at you, smiling in that way only you ever saw as you tentatively brushed plastered curls away from his forehead. He leaned in, a peck left to your lips before he pulled out, wincing apologetically at the grumble that left your lips as he did. 
“Let me get something to clean you up, alright? I’ll be back.” 
You knew he would, he always was, and only moments later, he was reappearing from the bathroom with a cold cloth, parting your thighs much more gently now, and wiping your sensitive skin clean. “We forgot protection.” You mumbled, one hand coming up to rub across your forehead, too tired to care much now but a problem for the morning. 
A problem he didn’t seem to appreciate, only smirking as he cleaned himself off, before pushing one hand over your stomach. “Maybe I should knock you up, I’d like to see you leave me then.”
“Tom!” His joke was not well received, even if his raspy laugh at your chastisement warmed your heart, your arm thrown over your eyes to block him out, to relish in peaceful darkness. The dirty cloth hit the floor somewhere with a squelch, another problem for the morning, as he tugged the covers out from under your body, collapsing down beside you a moment later and tugging them up over you both. 
Then, he was peeling your arm from your face, rolling your head to the side to look at him. Gone was the smile, gone was the laughter, a serious look on his face as he studied you carefully. 
Tom shuffled a little closer, delicately brushing hair from your brow before settling a hand along the curve of your waist. 
“I like it when your cheeks get all rosy after. You look so pretty when you're glowing, just for me.” Your scoff was cut short by his lips, tugging you in until your naked body was pressed back up to his own, that palm scraping over your soft skin to hook your thigh up over his hip, and your arm lay over his shoulders lazily. “Something is telling me this isn’t over. Tell me I’m right?”
“I love—.”
“Tell me you’re staying.” He knew you too well, his grip around your waist tightening holding you to him like he feared you’d slip away. “Don’t tell me you love me unless you plan to keep doing it.”
His gaze pierced into your own, face still like stone but worry painted in his eyes, and you nuzzled your nose against his own. He bumped back, once, insistently. “I love you, Tom.”
He sighed, heavy and happy and bumped your noses together once again. A small smile pulled on his lips, and he nodded slightly as his eyes fluttered closed. “I love you too.”
“Doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, though. I’ll still make you work for it.”
“I’d expect nothing less from a future Riddle woman.”
2K notes · View notes
starrluvs · 6 months
Note
I have a request! How about a scenario where we have a very ugly and strong argument with Bi-han, but later he comes back to apologize and let us take it out on him for treating us so badly?
(I just want some agressive sex/rage sex/fury sex with this man)
𝐁𝐈-𝐇𝐀𝐍 | 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐘/𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐗
cw: fem reader, married couple, piv sex, bi-han is a little rough, reader cant stand bi-han's attitude tbh, angry sex, make up/apology sex, fighting for dominance, cock drunk reader, mentions of bi-han dirty talking in cantonese creampie, bi han and reader are both sassy/petty little shits that still love each other, and i think that's it! minors dni please!
wc: 2.6k
a/n: wow idk why this took me so long, but i kinda like this one ;) ... ty for this idea, nonnie <3 i also want to mention that the mention of bi-han speaking/dirty talking in cantonese was heavily inspired by a headcanon i seen from @bihansthot ! anyways, enjoy!!
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silent treatment was without a doubt something that bi-han absolutely loathed. he truly believed it’d be better off if you were to scream your lungs out at him instead. but getting a cold shoulder and silent treatment from you was something his ego couldn’t handle. had anybody else dared to ignore his presence the way you had these past forty-eight hours, he’d probably have them executed after the first five minutes of this frivolous behaviour. but you, his wife, was a different case.
bi-han couldn’t discipline or punish you the way he would towards his students and lower ranked lin kuei ninjas. you were his wife– his equal –and this silent game of ‘who’s willing to crack first?’ was driving him mad, although he’d never admit that to anybody… yet.
the fabric of the towel was soft against your hands while you worked on drying out your hair. having just exited the shower, you were in nothing but a silk blue robe that complemented your husband's traditional colour scheme. just the thought of him made you scoff out loud and shake your head, who the hell did he think he was?, you thought to yourself. about two days ago, bi-han appeared to be grumpy when he arrived back at your shared compound after finishing his duties for the day. 
being the supportive wife you were, you tried to talk to your husband, ask him if he needed anything from you, or even tried to see if he would be vocal about what was bothering him. and much to your dismay, he lashed out on you as if you were some peasant who worked under him during the day– which you sure as hell weren't.
“leave me be. the last thing i need tonight is another insignificant fool blabbering in my ear constantly.” 
his voice was sharp when he walked past you and entered your shared bedroom. bi-han having miserable mood swings wasn’t something new, but he almost never verbally took out his stress on you– possibly because he knew better. truth be told, you were too tired for his attitude today and had no intentions of letting him ruin your peaceful afternoon. all you did was let out a ‘hmph’ that you purposely made loud enough for him to hear and continued in silence with the fruit you were cutting up for yourself in the kitchen.
ever since that transpired, you haven’t said a word to bi-han and completely ignored his presence, which made his blood run colder than it already was. he was a hard person to read when he kept his usual stoic expression, but deep down you knew he was aware of how frustrated you were with him. which is exactly what you wanted.
letting out a tired sigh, you look at yourself in the mirror and take time to fix up your hair before exiting the bathroom and arriving at your bed. as you sat in silence for a moment, you felt the temperature noticeably drop… he’s here. rolling your eyes, you decide to comfortably tuck yourself in on your side of the shared bed and warm yourself up from the chilly air.
however , your eyes never shut– not even when the door creaks open slowly and reveals your husband’s tall form. his demeanour didn’t seem to be as aggressive compared to how it was two days ago, which you were grateful for. but you still avoided eye contact with him and stared at the wall in silence, not wanting to be bothered. you knew your worth and refused to feed into your husband's ego, because you knew that it was already big enough… your thoughts came to a halt when you heard bi-han speak up. “your juvenile behaviour is astounding,” he scoffs, and you can damn near feel his eyes piercing into you. 
in response, you calmly grab your pillow and walk right past him, making your way to the living room. bi-han watches you settle yourself down on the couch as you lay down and begin to curl yourself up comfortably. all he does is release a sigh from his lips, contemplating on what his next course of action should be. bluntly calling you childish probably wasn’t the best thing to say after two days of neither of you talking to each other, but he couldn’t stop himself from speaking his mind.
deep down he knew he’d have to put his pride and ego aside to resolve this. he was the eldest of three sons, a powerful and deadly assassin, the grandmaster of the lin kuei– and yet here he was, allowing silent treatment from his wife to get under his skin. letting out a stubborn groan, bi-han made his way towards you and knelt down on the mat so that he was at face level with you on the couch. 
he calls out your name in the softest way he could, hoping you would turn to him. but he clearly failed to get your attention as you didn’t say anything back. his small whim of patience had already run out, “do you insist on telling me what your problem is?” this time his tone sounded more cold and gruff, as usual. rolling your eyes once again for the night, you turn to bi-han and finally speak to him, “last i recall, i was just a mere insignificant fool blabbering in your ear when i tried to talk,” he could've sworn your tone was sassy, sarcastic and authoritative all at once– as if you were just waiting to bite at him.
if he was being honest, it’s one of the many things he found so attractive about you. the way you didn’t take shit from anybody– not even himself –made bi-han fall hard for you… he needed a strong willed woman by his side. but moments like this proved to be a form of self realisation. the only people who would ever dare to talk back to him were just you and his brothers. he was so used to everyone following his lead and command, it was almost… refreshing, to have somebody stand their ground.
the glare and frown you had on your face was something you were far too beautiful for. bi-han closed his eyes and inhaled as calmly as possible, trying to collect his words and choose them wisely. “what i said to you that day was regrettable–” you cut him off before he could continue, “and?,” you were already unimpressed with his words, “it’s not like there’s anything you can say to take it back.” your husband must’ve known that just words alone wasn’t going to solve this. 
“i understand that, but,” his cold hand gently grasps your arm, causing goosebumps to raise all over your body. “perhaps there’s something i can do to make amends for what i’ve done?”
and now you’re here, back on your shared bed, taking out your own frustration above bi-han on his cock. you had your hands planted on bi-han’s chest as you bounced up and down his shaft, “fuck..!” your voice lost that sting it previously had, making bi-han grow a prideful grin on his face. “still trying to put me in my place?” your husband’s taunting only made you feel more agitated than you already were. with an attempt to keep your moan in, you bite down on your lower lip and snake your hands up to bi-han’s neck, keeping a slight grip. “s-shut– ngh!– up…” the movement of your hips refused to come to a halt, forcing bi-han to lay back and stay below you.
it felt like a battle for dominance between the two of you. two hard headed (and sometimes ignorant) lovers trying to prove to each other how much power they had over one another. bi-han was confident that you knew how easily he could overpower you in terms of strength, but decided to let you have your little wish of ever taking control over him. looking down at him, his chest was covered in sweat and his ears and cheeks were flushed in a light shade of pink. though you’d have to admit that your hands around his neck were a great touch. it felt as if there was a surge of power and control coursing through you.
apart from his occasional groans, the cryomancer stayed silent as he watched your voluptuous body on top of his. noticing your lover’s face contort in pleasure, you can’t help but spew out more words, “yeah… did you r-really, ah!, think that i would tolerate that b-behaviour from y– f-fuck!,” before you could finish blurting out what you wanted to, bi-han had gripped your hips hard enough to stop your movements as he fucked up into you, making you cry out at the sudden surprise of pleasure he was bringing you.
the grandmaster only chuckled. he found your sounds pitiful, “you talk too much.”  from the way his cock was jackhammering into you, it proved too difficult to spit out any sort of petty comment towards him. the speed of his thrusts made your body feel limp and your husband took note of this from the moment you slumped down, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. his voice was dangerously close to your ear from this angle, “mmm…such an incompetent attempt of being in control,” your pride disallowed you from letting out any moans, “fuck.. y-you..!” hearing how slurred your words were only made bi-han scoff.
your attempts at keeping composure were becoming futile and bi-han knew how close you were to cumming around his length with the way your pussy tightened and gripped him like a vice. “i can feel how close you are, love,” bi-han stops his thrusts but keeps himself fully buried inside of you. before you could get the chance to protest or whine, the cryomancer speaks up. “i have no intention of letting you cum until you accept my apology.” the expression he held was smug while he secured your waist with that same grip he had before, making you unable to move your hips. 
you’d been so focused on taking out your frustration on him that you forgot the whole point of this was him trying to make amends for how he lashed out on you. truthfully, you would’ve purposely told your husband that he’d have to take you out on a fancy date in order for you to accept his apology… but you already felt so fucked out from how his cold cock was abusing your insides just moments ago. you were so close, and you needed that coil in your stomach to snap. “fuck, i forgive you– okay? just let me cum already, pleaseee–!” bi-han groans in response and glides a cold finger to press on your clit, making you shiver in pleasure at how swollen and sensitive your bud feels. without any more wasted time, the grandmaster delivers his quick thrusts from underneath you once again and rubs fast circles on your clit.
the feeling of everything was becoming overwhelming, “ahh– ‘s good! it f-feels so g– ngh!” your mind was clouded with lust and each sentence you tried to complete ended up failing to connect coherently. there were words that left bi-han’s mouth, but you could barely decipher what he was saying with the way your heart beat drummed in your ears– 
it was in that moment, your cries echoed in the room as you pulsed around his cock, gushing around his member. bi-han reduced the speed of his thrusts while trying to help you ride out your high. once you finally come back down from your bliss, you feel your husband's cold, rough hands manhandle you and flip the position that you two were in. you were now layed on your back as bi-han towered over you, parting your legs and easing between them. 
being able to admire your body with the positions swapped felt so refreshing to bi-han. watching the way your breasts heaved up and down with short breaths… the way your skin was coated with sweat, resulting in your hair being out of place from its presentable manner you previously had it in. and being able to see your juices not only coating his cock– but also the inside of your thighs. seeing your slick trickle down to the mattress… gods, you were so beautiful like this. 
bi-han couldn’t waste any more precious time just observing when you were unintentionally inviting him to ravish you even more than he already has. the cryomancer grabs your leg and hooks it over his shoulder as he positions himself enough to easily slide his cock into your pussy. being filled up again made your walls flutter– you wanted to be here forever, just taking his cock while it stuffed you full. to no surprise, bi-han’s thrusts were rough as he began to chase his own high.
your moans never came to an end and were only received as noises to push bi-han further. the cryomancer decides to place a grip on both of your legs this time and leans closer, pinning your knees right by your ears and increasing the force of his thrusts. your folded position had you seeing stars as bi-han’s cock was angled even deeper than before. the way his tip kissed your sweet spot again and again– you could no longer stop your tongue from lolling out, followed by drool rolling down from your mouth.
bi-han snickers, “all of that attitude earlier…” he moves closer to your face and his nose touches yours, “just to be reduced to a cock hungry vixen beneath me– shit!” your husband spits out, feeling how your walls clenched around him from his harsh words. even if you were able to coherently speak, you would never admit how much of a mess you become when bi-han works his cock inside of you…
the grandmaster felt himself becoming dangerously close to his climax, and you felt it with the way his rock hard cock twitched inside of you. his volume started to increase and his grunts became shallow moans that he desperately tried to hold back. noticing this, you use the last bit of your energy to purposely squeeze hard around him, clamping your pussy around his cock as if you were trying to keep it all for yourself. the unexpected action made bi-han lace out a loud string of swears and words in his mother tongue. although you didn’t quite understand what he was saying, you were aware that they were phrases he only used in scenarios like this, making you assume that only vulgar words were leaving his mouth.
the roles were reversed now– this time he was the one hiding his face in the crook of your neck with your lips right by his ear. his hips started to stutter and lose the rhythm it previously had. letting out a lustful hum, you speak into his ear, “inside… haah– c-come on..! fuckin’ fill me up, please!” hearing your voice spew out these words was enough to do it– he filled you to the brim with his seed.
you made sure to milk him dry, taking every drop that he had to offer you. both of you laid there, completely fucked out and exhausted– his body was still slouched over yours while he took time to catch his breath. very slowly, he pulled his cock out of you and planted a peck on your lips, “in no other realm would i have imagined reciting vows with a woman that carried such a flame and sharp tongue,” he leans down and places yet another kiss to your swollen lips, 
“yet i could never imagine falling in love with anybody else…”
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yuquinzel · 11 months
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“hey,”
sae's ears perk up at the call of your voice. it sounds hesitant, almost a little desperate and most definitely defeated, he smirks internally. “you said something?” he asks, amusement dancing in his eyes as you simply refuse to spare him a glance.
“hmm? what was that?” he questions again, having heard you perfectly fine the first time. it's cute, he thinks. the way you glare at him for making you repeat your words.
“i said, open this for me.” you sigh, holding out a jar, eyes set on the lid with a sweet pout gracing your lips.
“oh,” he takes it, but doesn't really put any effort in trying to unlid it any time sooner. you wait, patience running thin after a mere seconds as you repeat, “sae, come on, i need it right now.”
this time he doesn't hide his smirk, he wants you to see the victorious glint in his eyes as he looks up at you again, batting his lashes in boyish way, something that you've called ‘charming’ before— almost tempting you to say he looks pretty right now because even when you're mad at him, he's still the most prettiest man you've ever seen.
you wouldn't dare though— not inflate his already big any more than it is.
“say please.”
“what? ”
“say please,” he repeats, an annoyingly amused chuckle leaving his lips.
itoshi sae is grinning at you in all his untouched glory on a random saturday morning because you asked him to open a jar for you especially after he had been eyeing you struggling to open it for the past fifteen minutes. you're sure the reason he's wearing that self-assured smirk is because the moments leading up to the aftermath of your argument with him, you have been avoiding him all morning.
you haven't been talking to him, leaving all his texts on seen, even going as far as leaving the room whenever he steps in— that one definitely wound him a little.
“i'm helping you out, saying please is common courtesy.”
“sae, I'm not in the mood to joke around.” you say with finality, finally meeting his eyes.
“who says I'm joking?”
“are you really okay with eating bland pasta tonight?” you scowl.
“are you really okay with continuing this attitude? you've been ignoring me all day, and you say I'm petty.” sae places the jar on the table, no longer of any significance to the conversation.
“oh, that's because you are. you're the reason I'm ignoring you.” you cross your arms.
“i said i was sorry, quit being mad. i didn't mean it.” he sighs, taking one step closer to you—he's testing the waters of your patience.
“sounded like you meant it alright.” your voice is a low whisper, and sae wants nothing more than to go back in time and knock some sense in his past self.
“people say things they don't mean when they're mad. i didn't either. what i did mean was that I'm sorry. really.” it's laced with enough regret to sound convincing, coaxing you to take a step closer to him — albeit, begrudgingly. your anger beginning to dissipate at the tenderness of his caress when sae brings his hand to brush his fingers over your cheekbones.
when he takes another careful step towards you and you don't step back, sae immediately envelopes you in his arms, rubbing circles on the small of your back as he hears you whisper, “you're mean,”
he laughs, “i know.”
“an asshole, a jerk, a stuck-up bastard—”
“yeah, okay, i get the picture.”
“dont just walk out on me like that, i don't ever wanna go to bed angry again.” you say at last, arms coming to drape around his shoulders. a sense of relief washes over him.
“right, i promise. i love you.”
sae basks in the silence that follows, he thinks it's okay you didn't say you love him too immediately. he's still trying to figure out if he deserves it or not. but when he hears you mutter a quick ‘i love you too ’, feeling all the love you hold for him carefully wrapped up in the syllables, tasting sweet on your lips when they meet his— he's glad he tightened the lid on the jar this morning.
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© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]
he's insufferable ( affectionate )
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You and roommate!Simon had an argument.
A petty one about something stupid that neither of you really meant to get upset about but both of you were having an off day. There weren’t really any harsh words or name calling but you both ended up getting a little too annoyed with each other to be in the same area as one another.
While you loved living with each other, this one the one time where having separate apartments would probably benefit you both.
So you decided you were going out in public and Simon decided he’d stay home.
Having the alone time was great. You decided to talk a walk around a park and enjoy the nice weather, Simon read one of his books he’s been wanting to and soon neither of you were upset anymore.
You decided you were going to get dinner tonight, not wanting to go home empty handed with just an apology.
It was a good idea when you stepped into the restaurant only to see Simon in there as well, because he had the same idea.
“This is how I know we spend too much time together.”
“Ruined the surprise, love.”
You both smiled at each other however and decided to have a post argument date with dinner and desert paid by him (despite you trying to pay for at least desert)
Had to cave and write something but also these two idiots are so in love
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Holy shit guys.
Did not expect that last post to blow up like that, like?? Thank you??
You're all amazing and I love you.
Almost as much as I love this sassy asshole.
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I mean look at him.
So anyway here's a ton of romancey headcannons, both fluffy and spicy, definitely NSFW.
LA!Mihawk X Fem!Reader
L'alphabet d'Amour:
Dracule Mihawk
A — Afterglow (How are they after sex?)
You're having a bath together. This is not up for debate.
He's going to get it started and carry you to the bathroom.
Candlelight, wine.
Probably not much talking, but he'll wrap an arm around your waist and pull you back against him, and trail kisses down your neck and your shoulders.
B — Backrubs? (Do they like them? Like giving them?)
Not really likely to initiate it on a whim unless he knows you're hurting.
He won't say no if you ask.
If he's sore and exhausted from training or fighting and you give him a massage, you're probably going to be getting a lot more than a massage in return.
Soft sighs and words of praise.
"You are an absolute treasure, my love."
C — Cuddling (Do they enjoy cuddling a lot ot only at certain moments?)
Again, he isn't likely to initiate it outside the bedroom, but if you drop yourself into his lap he's not going to turn you away.
Pulling you closer by your waist and brushing your hair away from your eyes.
Gettle kisses at your temple, the top of your head, your hands.
He's more iffy about it in public or when other peoole are present, and might be a little tense about doing more than having his arm around your waist while walking.
D — Dance (Are they good at it? Do they enjoy it?)
His grace and poise in swordfighting transfers directly to dancing.
It isn't exactly a hobby, but in the corrrect setting he enjoys it uwith you.
Strong preference for slow-dancing.
Holding your waist and cradling your hand gently in his his, gazing into your eyes in a way that makes your knees weak.
That little smirk when he notices you getting hot under the collar.
Leaning in to murmur in your ear, his hand slipping behind you to caress the back of your thigh.
"Now now...don't get too worked up, little one. We are still in public."
Soft kisses at your jaw and your neck when no one is looking.
E — Extravagant Genstures (Things they do to make you feel loved, things they appreciate you doing.)
He loves buying you things. Clothes, jewelry, perfume. Almost anything you mention wanting in front of him, he's going to find time to get it.
Taking you out for the evening to expensive restaurants and hotels, keeping an arm around your waist to make sure everyone knows you're his.
Possessive but not controlling—at least not outside of bed.
F — Fighting (How do they hand arguments/apologies?)
He ALWAYS has to be right. He doesn't like admitting he's wrong, but he will do so begrudgingly if he actually is.
He will apologize first if he has to—he doesn't like having you mad at him.
Silence doesn't normally bother him at all, but you giving him the silent treatment will drive him absolutely crazy.
"Would you just say something, woman? I prefer you yelling to this petty nonsense."
The make-up sex is absolute fire.
As if he isn’t the king of petty nonsense.
G — Getting Hot (What they do to turn you on, things you do that gets them riled up)
He doesn't beat around the bush—he has no problem worh pulling you to him, looking you in the eyes, and telling you he wants you.
Trails his fingers down your arms, your neck.
Deep, firm kisses, pressing you up against the wall.
He doesn't do much dirty talking, prefering to keep his nouth occupied with other things—but if you start talking dirty in his ear, there's not going to be much teasing before he's dragging you into bed (if you even make it that far).
Knowing how badly you want to touch him but pinning your hands above your head anyway.
H — Heartache (How would they handle it if you broke up with them?)
Completely devastated, though not showing it to anyone.
There's going to be a lot of wine involved.
Thinking of ways to win you back, though uncertain if or when it would be appropriate to attempt.
Seeing you in public and struggling not to just pull you to him and kiss you.
I — Intimacy (When are they intimate with you? And how often?)
He strongly prefers to be physically intimate in a private setting.
He has enough self-control not to be all over you 24/7, but he loves touching you and shows it plenty.
Sneaking up behind you and wrapping an arm around your waist, brushing your hair out of the way to kiss down your neck.
Whispering or murmuring sweet things in your ear.
Gazing into your eyes like you're the most incredible thing he's ever seen.
"You are a living goddess, my love."
J — Joker (How do they make you laugh?)
Usually it's his dry sarcasm. He's not the type to crack jokes but some of the one-liners that leave his mouth put you on the floor.
Undisputed king of shit-talking and insults.
"I envy everyone that has never met you."
It's fun to spout of stupid useless facts in front of him because the look on his face when his brain short-circuits always gives you a good giggle.
"Somewhere in the world, there exists a tree with the single purpose of replacing the oxygen you consume. I suggest you find it and apologize."
K — Kissing (How good? How often?)
It's not as if he can't keep his lips off of you, but he typically always gives you at least a peck on the lips or the cheek when you or he enters the room.
His kisses are deep and intense and tend to leave you breathless.
When you're getting intimate, he kisses every inch of your skin he can reach.
"You taste divine."
L — Lay down (How do they sleep with you? Are they cuddler or do they prefer their space?)
He loves falling asleep with you against him.
His arm under your neck and curled around your back, holding you against his side or his chest.
Combing his fingers through your hair as you drift off to sleep.
Pulling your hand up from his chest to press a kiss to it.
He doesn't say it constantly, but he always whispers "I love you" just before you fall asleep.
M — Making babies (Do they want to settle down and have kids?)
No kids.
Mihawk does not have the patience to deal with small boisterous humans.
He has never considered having children.
N — Nervous? (How confident are they when it comes to romance?)
Very confident, but not to the point if arrogance...usually.
Mihawk knows ehat he wants and he knows how to get it.
He doesn't beat around the bush or take half-measures.
If he knows you want the same thing—whether it's a kiss, a steamy make-out session, or hours of passionate love-making, he has no problem being the one to initiate.
O — Oral Fixation (Giving or recieving? And how good are they?)
He insists in being the dominant one in any intimate scenario, so he tends to be more of a giver.
Keeps his eyes glued to yours while he's trailing kisses down your body and up your thighs.
It's unheard of him to not have you moaning and calling his name within a minute flat.
No teasing or stopping right before you orgasm—he will literally make you cum until you pass out if you don't tell him to stop or slow down.
He isn't going to complain about recieving—but he always stops you before he can lose control, to either return the favor or fuck you senseless.
P — Pet Peeves (Things they don't like in a partner)
Questionable persinal hygeine. He's always clean and well-groomed and he values the same in his lover.
Uncleanliness in general, e.g. leaving trash or dirty dishes lying around.
Being indirect or aloof about your emotions. He doesn't mince words and he would strongly prefer you didn't either.
Q — Quiet Time (How much alone time do they need, or do they want to be with you 24/7?)
He doesn't utterly require that you be around him at all times, but it doesn't bother him if you want to be.
Don't bother him when he's training either, unless it's to request to train with him. He won't always agree to it, but he doesn't mind it sometimes.
Don't bother him while he's reading. He doesn't mind if you want to snuggle up next to him, but don't be distracting.
R — Romance (How romantic are they? Do they have to force it or dies it come natural?)
Romantic isn't his default setting, but when the mood strikes him he can and will make you feel like a goddess.
Candlelit dinners and expensive wine.
Laying out a blanket outside amd stargazing between tender kisses.
Making love on a bed covered in rose petals.
"You are my greatest treasure, little one."
Intimate, tender whispers against your skin.
S — Spending Money (How much do they like to spend on you?)
Being a pirate lord he's filthy rich, so he doesn't give a second thought about buying you things
If he sees a dress/outfit he'd like to see on you in a shop window, he doesn't hesitate to purchase it.
He buys you lingerie pretty regularly, in part because seeing you in lace or nylon more often than not leads to him tearing it off of you.
He gets quite baffled if you tell him he's spending too much on you.
"A beautiful woman deserves beautiful things."
He isn't going to stop, so it's better you just get used to it and enjoy it.
T — Trust (Are they trusting of you? Jealous?)
He trusts you implicitly—you wouldn't be his lover if he didn't.
That being said, he doesn't take kindly to other men looking at you or attempting to flirt with you, and he will make it known that you're his.
Even if that means grabbing you and kissing you in the middle of a crowded tavern, staking his claim for all to witness.
Too much PDA makes him a bit uncomfortable, but he doesn't want other men eyeing you like a piece of meat, either.
U — Underwear (What kind do they wear, and what kind do they like on you?)
Boxer-briefs. He's hung and he knows it, and he likes showing it off in the tighter fit of underwear.
He loves seeing you in sheer, lacy bras and panties almost as much as he loves tearing them off of you.
Caressing and playing with you through the fabric until your panties are completely soaked and you're begging for more.
V — Vulnerable (How vulnerable are they with you? Is it easy for them to open up to you?
Mihawk isn't one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but he's as open and honest with you as he can be.
You're the only person he lets himself be even remotely vulmerable around.
When it comes to his past he's an open book.
He'll answer any questions you have while he holds you close, his arm around your waist and your head resting against his shoulder.
W — Wine and Dine (Do they prefer meals at home or going out with you? Who does more of the cooking?)
While he very much enjoys taking you out to classy, expensive restaurants, he loves the sight of you flitting around the kitchen.
He isn't much of a cook, but if you ask for assistance with anything he'll do his best.
He doesn't make it horribly obvious, likely reading a book or the newspaper and sitting somewhere nearby, but he can barely keep his eyes off of you.
X — X-Rated (How good are they in bed? What do they like?)
He's an incredible lover—passionate, intense, attentive, and with the stamina that comes from years of strength and ensurance training.
Making you scream his name is one of his favorite passtimes.
He likes to pick you up and carry you to bed.
How rough he is relates directly to how wound up he is—he might lay you down gently and follow, trailing kissed down your neck.
Or he might throw you onto the bed, kiss you hard enough to bruise your lips while he's quickly amd deftly tugging your clothes off.
Not much talking, since his mouth is too busy, but he might murmur a few soft words of encouragement and praise against your skin now and again.
"That's it, goddess. Break for me."
"I can't wait to be inside you. I've craved you all damned day."
Trailing kisses down your body, his hands resting at your hips.
He wastes very little time, tightening his grip on your hips, his eyes glued to yours so he can watch you come apart.
Licks slowly up your wet folds before sucking your clit into his mouth, with a quiet purr of approval when you moan softly at the sensations his skilled tongue sends through you.
Unyielding and unrelenting—he loves when you grip at his hair and grind against his tongue, loves feeling how wet you get as he pushes two fingers deep inside you, pressing them against your g-spot until you're arching off the bed and he's shoving you back down by your hips.
He only stops when you beg for more of him, sitting up on his knees and pulling your body to him by your hips—pulling you right now onto his thick shaft with a quiet grunt, filling you in one firm, deep thrust. He loves hearing you beg, but he never makes you wait for long.
He prefers positions where he can look into your eyes, and see the exact moment when you shatter.
Pulls you up onto your knees to stradle him in the middle of your orgasm, kissing your neck while you cling to him and moan in his ear, lowering his head to capture one of your sensitive nipples in his mouth just to prolong the high of your pleasure for as long as possible.
Guides your hips with his hands, onto his cock again and again, shuddering slightly at the sensation of your inner walls gripping at him.
Being the one in control of your pleasure makes him *weak*, and he always gives everything he has when he makes love to you.
Multiple rounds, with deep, slow kisses and caressess between each one.
He strongly prefers to cum inside you, kissing you deeply and with soft groans against your lips, rolling his hips in time with each pleasurable throb.
He can go all night—you have to be the one to tell him when you're too spent to keep going, or he *will* make you pass out from sheer overexertion.
Y — Yearning (How long will they pursue the person they're interested in before losing interest?)
Absolutely loves the thrill of the chase. If he knows you aren't interested, he won't pressure you.
But if you're playing hard to get just to get under his skin, it drives him wild, and he'll keep it up however long it takes to have you.
His advances are subtle—soft, temder touches. 
Lowering his voice to an intimate murmur.
Like a hawk sizing up its prey before swooping in for the kill.
Coming within a breath of your lips touching and pulling back from it.
Z — Zen (What do they do to wind down and relax? Do they prefer to do it alone or with you?)
An afternoon nap is probably his favorite way to wind down.
If you're not nearby, he will find you and pull you to the nearest bed, armchair, couch, hammock, or any other such appropriate furniture.
Hold you against his chest and brush his lips to your temple, breathing in your scent and lacing his fingers with yours.
Watch you fall asleep ahead of him.
He also reads a bit to relax, and as long as you don't interupt him he enjoys having you close.
Particularly if you lie down woth your head in his lap with your own book.
Combing his fingers absently through your hair between turning pages.
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