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sinofwriting · 5 months

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It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore - Max Verstappen (& Lewis Hamilton)

Words: 4,816 Summary: Y/N Rosberg, Nico Rosberg’s little sister, returns to the world of F1 after six years away. And she returns in the most unexpected garage. Warning(s)/Note(s): Takes place in 2022, Past Relationship with Lewis Hamilton that involves an age difference of about 11 years. Secret/Private Relationship(s), Smut in the Imola 2022 part

Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon | It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore Verse

Jeddah 2022

Lewis scoffs as he reads the trash article. It was anything but substantial and from a site that was more known for just recirculating already known things in their own words and for the occasional lie to stir up drama.

He had only seen it because he had alerts on his personal phone for her name and he couldn’t help but click on it seeing that it was popping up on an F1 related site. He expected it to be one of those top ten outfit things, he hadn’t expected utter garbage.

He’d know if she was returning to the paddock, he would’ve been told, especially during one of the first few weekends of the new season. The first season since he had won that he won’t have the number one on his car and his jaw clenched at the reminder that he was no longer the current world champion, that he had to stay longer, needed to stay longer. He wanted that eighth championship, and until he got it he was staying, needed to. And this year could be the year, would be the year.

“Have you seen this rubbish?” Lewis asks Toto when he steps out of his driver's room and into the garage. It’s filled with life as everyone gets ready for the first free practice session. Shouts being heard back and forth. The whirring of tools as mechanics make sure they’re all working and where they should be. “What rubbish?” His Austrian accent is thick as it wraps around the words. He glances around, looking for cameras, spotting none, he still lowers his voice. “Y/N,” the name is awkward off his tongue and it makes Toto flinch, no one had called her that, not unless it was for something important, like life or death. “Some blog reported that she’s in Red Bull’s garage.” He laughs. The taller man stills.

Toto after all these years still wasn’t sure what exactly had happened between Mouse and Lewis. He knew what had happened between Nico and Lewis, had tried to fix it, to patch it up, to stay neutral, but his preference for Lewis had been obvious to Nico and the brotherhood that had been so strong, had spanned so many years, ended quicker than it began as the season drew on and the tension got tighter.

And while he hadn’t managed to play middle man without one of them getting mad, shouting, screaming, storming away like a toddler. Mouse had. She had easily gone between the two men as they both threw fits. He still wasn’t sure how the girl had done it, barely an adult, but dealing with two grown men, but she had and handled it like a champ. Toto had never been allowed to hold Nico’s trophy like Lewis had allowed him to when he had won before, but he knew and had seen how Nico let her hold. As if it was not just his but hers as well.

Toto had expected when the 2017 season started even with Nico, leaving, retiring, for her to come anyways. Had set aside passes for her, made sure that she was in the system to be allowed in despite knowing that she would show up with Lewis, because that’s how it had always been. If she wasn’t showing up with her brother, she was showing up with Lewis. But she was a no show and when he tried to reach out, he was blocked.

She went full no contact with everyone in the racing world and at first Toto had thought that maybe something serious had happened, but she was still posting on her blog, though there was a distinct lack of F1, she just wasn’t talking to him. He could still remember the swell of anger that came over and then the shame that had quickly followed. How he had gone to Lewis to ask if she was alright, if she was mad at him, mad at Mercedes, only for Lewis to flinch, to shake his head. Telling him that he hadn’t heard from her or seen since the day after Nico won his championship. He could still feel the bitterness that rolled off of Lewis’ tongue as he said that none of the Rosberg’s were talking to him.

“It’s not rubbish.” Toto manages to say after a moment, trying to push back the memories, the grief of no longer getting to see Mouse grow up, because god she had just turned twenty-six and the last time he had seen her, she was twenty, still a child in many ways. “She is at Red Bull’s garage.” “What?” “She showed up after all the drivers did, waited I think, and made her appearance. Went straight to Red Bull. She had passes.” “She’s never liked Red Bull.” “You’ve never liked Red Bull.” Toto corrects.

It was a thing that had frustrated much of the Mercedes team, how despite himself, Nico, and Lewis despising Red Bull, she still liked them, would pop into their garage, chat with their drivers, mechanics, engineers, and such. Toto nearly had an aneurysm the first time he saw her and Horner talking.

“Doesn’t make sense.” “No it doesn’t.”

—

“Red Bull, huh? Naughty, naughty girl.” He clicks his tongue. She rolls her eyes, “You already knew that I was going there.” He laughs, “Doesn’t mean I can’t tease you about it.” “Was there a reason you called, Nico?” “What? I can’t check in on my sister?” She rolls her eyes again, but grins. “I just wanted to make sure that nothing happened.” “Lewis didn’t try to talk to me or at least not that I know of.” It was easy to read between the lines with Nico. “I stayed at Red Bull, in their garage, no one but Red Bull personnel came close to me.” “And you still want to do this?” “Yes.” Her voice is soft and she sits on the hotel bed, crossing her ankles. “I’ve missed it, the sport, the paddock, it’s nice to be back.” “And Mercedes?” “I have no interest in talking to anyone at Mercedes, past or present. They don’t matter, not anymore.” “Mouse. You will be careful, yes? I’m not there anymore.” “Careful as can be.”

Australia 2022

He expects her to be at the next race in Australia and he doesn’t know why. It had been one of the races she was always willing to miss as she hated flying there. Not feeling it was worth it.

So he pretends not to be disappointed when no photos of her arriving popping up, not even whispers of rumors of her sneaking in which he wouldn’t believe in the first place. The idea of her sneaking into a race made him scoff. It wasn’t her, that wasn’t how she operated. He knew her, knew she liked the attention of arriving at the races just like he did. He also pretends that it doesn’t hurt to think about how they used to show up together to races.

Imola 2022

“You’re going to win.” She soothes, rubbing his shoulders and he can’t help but let them drop, let her loosen the tension in them. “I retired from the last race.” “And that was the last race.” He wants to deny it, there’s still that feeling that settles at the bottom of his stomach when he doesn’t win, when he isn’t on the podium, in the points. But it’s lessened as he’s been with her. “And tell me, Schat.” He grabs at her hand, gently pulling her until she’s in front of him, standing between his legs. “Will I just win the GP or also the sprint?” She smiles and he can feel his heartbeat quicken. “Both.” She tells him, resting her hands on his face and letting their lips brush together. “You’ll win both, Max.”

He wins the sprint and then the GP and he’s thankful that she isn’t out with the rest of the team when he’s on the podium, that she stayed in his drivers room, waiting for him. Because he knows that if she had, he would’ve ruined their plans of staying private, secret. He would have kissed her, told her that she did it, she told him he was going to win, so he did. He won both of them for her.

Max does tell her that. He tells her that in between champagne flavored kisses, along with thanks and murmurs of his love against her skin as she sighs and tugs at his nomex.

“I could win every race this season with you supporting me, Schat.” His breathing is heavy, he’s in between her thighs, racesuit and nomex just tugged down enough for his dick to be free, ass exposed. She hadn’t protested, but moaned when he ripped through her tights that she was wearing underneath her skirt, and moaned again when he moved her underwear to the side. Rubbing at her clit to get her wet as he quickly prepped her before sinking into her. He repeats it as he thrusts inside her, high on not the two wins, but on her, on her support, her belief. “You're my lucky charm.” She freezes around him, her moans tapering off and he curses as he realizes what he said. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs, lips against her forehead. “I did not mean.” “I know.” She sounds sure, truthful, but her legs that had been tight around him, heels digging into him, have loosened.

“If I don’t win a race that is my fault or the teams. It is not yours.” He tells her. She nods but doesn’t look at him. “Schat.” He holds her chin between two fingers, holding eye contact with her. “You are my lucky charm. Not because I think I will win races because of you and your support. Because you make even the races I don’t win feel okay, like I haven’t failed.” “You haven’t failed.” She immediately says frowning and her legs are tightening back up around him. “You can’t win every race no matter how good luck it looks on you.” He flushes at her words. “I know you are different from him. You have shown that already.” She struggles with the next words. “I just don’t think I can handle being called a lucky charm yet.” “Then I won’t.” He tells her. She blinks at him, at how easy he said, at simple he’s making it. “But you said.” “Yes.” He shrugs, shifting his weight and they both hiss at how his body moves from it, both having forgotten that he was still inside her. But he pushes his building arousal away. “But I won’t say it any more. Not if it makes you uncomfortable.” She stares at him for a few seconds before smiling. “Ik houd van je Max.” He smiles back at her, kissing her. “Ik houd van je, Schat.”

He goes to pull out, unable to ignore the arousal building in him anymore, but not wanting her to feel like they need to have sex, but her heels are pressing into him, thighs tightening around him.

“Fuck me, Max.” He says her name, quiet and with wide eyes. She moves her hips and he follows them with a snap of his own. “You won two races.” She murmurs, breathing tickling his lips before she’s placing her lips on his jaw, moving them down to his neck. “Fuck me, Max. I want you to. Want to celebrate with you like this.”

She’s sucking a mark into his skin and he’s choking down a groan. “Just us two, our own quick celebration before you have to go with your team. Before I’m left all alone in our hotel room.” He starts to thrust again, pressing his lips against hers before she can say anything else, before he really leaves any earlier than he was already planning to at the dinner celebration the team was holding.

As he continues to thrust into her, his lips stay against hers, muffling both of their sounds, but as he feels his balls tightening, he breaks them apart, pressing her face into his neck, encouraging her to bite at him as his other hand goes between their bodies, to her clit.

The bite of hers against his collarbone when she clenches around him, cumming, has him hissing. He stills his hips as she comes down from her orgasm, still rubbing at her clit, but more gently.

“Where do you want it?” He asks, when she bats his hand away from her and presses for him to continue to rock into her body. His orgasm is quickly approaching and really he should be pulling out, just finish in his own hand in case he finishes inside her before she says it's okay. But she’s tight and warm and feels too good. “Do you want it in your mouth? Want me to pull out? Finish in my hand, feed it to you?” She moans at his words, at the thing they’ve done once before. “Or do you want me to leave you something? Cum inside you and have you feel it drip out, go back to the hotel with just your underwear stopping it from dripping down your leg and ruining your tights.” “Inside Max. Please, inside me.” He groans at her words, hips speeding up. He only manages a few solid thrusts before he’s shuddering, pressing as close as he can as cums inside her, muffling a moan against her shoulder.

His hips twitch a little in the aftershocks of his orgasm as he pants against her shoulder.

“You’re going to kill me.” “With what?” She laughs. “Orgasms?” “With your dirty little mind.” He tells her, slowly pulling out, rubbing at her thighs as he does. She laughs again and he smiles at how her whole face lights up.

Miami 2023

It’s Miami. It’s extravagant. It's the first race at the new circuit. It’s her.

She’s dressed in a soft color, bringing out her eyes. She’s wearing the bracelet he gave her when she turned fourteen, the ring her father gave her that once belonged to her grandmother. She’s not wearing the necklace he gave her when she turned eighteen. It’s back in Monaco, still sitting on the nightstand of what’s still her side of the bed.

She has new bracelets, rings, and a new necklace. The necklace makes his jaw clench, fists tighten. He had never thought to consider that maybe she’d be with someone else after all these years. He hadn’t, not for anything more than one night.

Lewis stares at the clasp of her necklace. Wonders if it’s worth anywhere near what he gave her. Wonders who gave it to her. Some boy with a trust fund? Some guy that managed to make it to the top not because of hard work but because of connections?

He doesn’t know and it burns alongside the anger. He used to know nearly everything about her and he still knows her, he just doesn’t know the new things and that hurts worse than not knowing her at all anymore.

He watches as Geri fixes the necklace for her and wonders when exactly she got so close to Horner’s wife. “Where exactly did you get this darling?” She glows at the name, “From a jeweler that Nico loves. I can never remember the name.” The burning inside him vanishes at his name. Something had changed, he knew something new about her. Necklaces were no longer just things she wore from significant others.

Spain 2022

He cocks an eyebrow as George comes up to him nervously, messing with his hands. “You alright?” “Yeah, I just heard a weird rumor.” His eyes dart away and George hates that Toto is making him do this but doesn’t want to think about why, can feel the headache from just imagining thinking about the why. “What did you hear?” “Apparently, Y/N Rosberg,” Lewis stills at her name and curiosity clutches at George before he pushes down and away. “got snuck into the Red Bull garage.” The older man immediately scoffs. “Yeah, right. She likes arriving at the races.” He raises his hands, “that’s just what I heard.” “Well, it’s wrong. A shit rumor. Anyone who knows Mouse,” the nickname leaves his mouth before he can think, can stop it, “knows that she loves arriving on a race weekend, all the cameras, getting to show off whatever outfit she put together.” “Just what I heard, mate.” George repeats, before quickly retreating, cursing Toto out underneath his breath as soon as he rounds the corner and is far away from Lewis.

Monaco 2022

She’s not at Monaco. She’s not at Monaco. The words are on repeat in his head. He doesn’t understand it. She lived here or maybe had lived here. Monaco was small, it was hard to imagine that he had never run into her since the end of 2016 but then again he managed to dodge him. So it was possible.

He just didn’t like the idea of it. That if she still lived here that she had made sure to dodge him, to make sure they never ran into each other.

Austria 2022

She doesn’t show up at Baku, her favorite circuit, Montreal, or Silverstone, but she’s here at Austria. He can’t make sense of why she’s showing up at the races she is. Can’t make sense of why it’s only Red Bull’s garage that she visits.

It’s driving him insane trying to make sense of it. Just like he can’t make sense of another rumor that she sneaked into watch the race in Baku. This one hadn’t been quiet though from George. It had made its run on twitter and instagram, though most fans of hers just like him, knew that they were false. Her blog was still full of talking about how much she loved showing up at race weekends, feeling the energy, interacting with fans, even if they were years old. It was telling that she never deleted them. And he knew that she’d never sneak into a race.

July 2015

“Lew?” Her voice is quiet, barely a whisper, as if she’s afraid he fell asleep. He makes a humming noise, keeping his eyes closed but pressing his fingers a bit more into her back as they dance along her spine. “When do you stop?” He frowns at the vague question, eyes blinking open. “Stop what?” “When did you stop seeing me as Nico’s sister? As a kid?” His fingers pause as he thinks about her questions, wonders if he really wants to tell her, really wants her to know. He takes a deep breath, in and out of the nose before letting his fingers continue to dance. “As Nico’s sister? Probably around 2011 and Nico wasn’t hiding you away from everyone as much. I still see you a bit as his sister, don’t know if that will ever change.” She nods, “and as a kid?” “December 2013.” He’s just happy that he doesn’t remember the day. “Nicole and I joined Nico, Viv and you on that yacht.” She makes a humming noise, curling closer to him. “Nicole noticed actually.” And he has to chuckle remembering his then girlfriend's reaction. “She hadn’t seen you for a few months and had never seen you like that. Told me that I’d have to help Nico out with keeping guys like us away from you.” She huffs out a laugh, but doesn’t say anything, sensing that he’s not done. “She said that and I looked and suddenly you weren’t five years old content only in Nico’s arms, or ten crying because Keke and Nico were leaving without you again. You had grown and you were fucking gorgeous.” She stares at him, unsure of what to make of what he just told her. Not sure how she felt that it was Nicole that had made him realize that she wasn’t a little girl anymore. “You know,” she starts. “I had boobs way before I was seventeen.” Lewis sputters out a laugh and she laughs as well. “Well, I wasn’t looking.” She shakes her head, before tucking it into the crook of his neck. “No, just waited until I was a month away from being legal.” “Yeah and I waited longer to do anything about it.” “Not that much longer.” She mumbles, grinning against his skin when he pinches at her.

Spa 2022 They're making a statement, not one that says much, her prior years coming to so many races and being friendly with drivers preventing that, but it’s still a statement.

It’s the second race since she’s returned instead of arriving before all the drivers or after when making an appearance in front of the cameras that she arrives when they are. More importantly she’s arrived with Max. She’s not on his arm or holding his hand, there’s a well kept distance between them. One that reads friendly, close, but not intimate. She wasn’t quite ready to go public with him, but she was willing to make it known that she and Max were friendly with each other.

“It’s nice having you here.” She smiles at Sophie, taking her eyes briefly off the little boy in her arms. “It’s nice being here.” The couch sinks next to her and she leans into Max as he wraps an arm around her shoulder, dropping a kiss to her temple. “Looks good on you.” He murmurs, smiling at his nephew in her arms. “A baby? Or a baby that looks identical to you?” “Well I’d much prefer one that looks like both of us.” She sends him a look, but can’t not smile at his words. “Sap.” “Just for you.”

Two days later she sits in a garage for the first time in years during a race and she remembers how much she loved it. There was nothing better than watching a race from the garage.

She watches as Max manages to recover from his grid penalty, making his way through the field and winning the race and she cheers with the rest of the garage, hugs everyone she can reach. As everyone runs out to greet Max, to watch as he celebrates his win, she stays.

Max didn’t have any impulse control when high on adrenaline, she knew exactly what would happen if she went out there with him, so she went back to his driver's room and waits for him.

Dutch 2023

“Mouse!” Lewis calls and he watches as she stills while Horner stiffens at the name. It makes him itch. Horner and the rest of Red Bull had always been the odd ones out, never calling her Mouse, but rather her name or girly, the last she took a shining to.

He could still remember the first time they had heard Horner call her that. He had been ready to punch him, but she had beamed at the team principal, jumping up to give him a hug and asking him about his wife.

“Lewis.” Her voice is cool and he nearly flinches at her calling him Lewis. He had never been Lewis to her, always Lew. “How have you been? It’s been awhile.” Nearly six years, he thinks but doesn’t say. “Good. So has Nico.” He flinches at his name. “Good.” His voice is quiet. “That’s good.”

Horner wraps an arm around her shoulders, “Let’s go. We’re going to be late.” She nods and doesn’t even glance at him as she and Horner walk away, leaving him looking after her with despair and grief threatening to swallow him whole.

Japan 2022

He watches as she looks at Max with tears in her eyes as the Red Bull crew cheer as Max gives his post race interview, smiling as he thanks the fans, smiling because he won his second championship.

As soon as the interview is done, he’s launching himself back into the arms of the Red Bull crew, they all easily take his weight, patting him on the back, cheering for him. And then he watches when as soon as they release him, Max sees her. His eyes going wide with surprise at seeing her.

Lewis watches as she leans as far over the barrier as she can, wrapping her arms around his neck as his go around her waist to hold her. He watches but nothing prepares him for what happens next, the pain that strikes his heart. Because suddenly she’s kissing him, tears running down her face and Max is kissing her back like he’s done it a hundred times.

He doesn’t hear it or see it, but one of Red Bull’s cameras does and it makes it into their video to celebrate Max winning his second championship. Her saying that she’s so proud of him, never been prouder, and that she loves him and the easy way Max says it back, no hesitation.

It’s that, not her kissing Max in front of seemingly the whole world, that makes him realize that the future he had imagined, the image of her that was still the nineteen year old girl he fell in love with, is gone and has been since the night that Nico won his championship and when she came to comfort him, he only had harsh and degrading words for her.

They never could have been together again after his accusations of her feeding Nico information, blaming her for his lack of winning because she wasn’t supportive enough, his accusation of the lucky charm she was supposed to be was nothing but bad luck just like she was and always had been.

He had deluded himself into thinking that they still would end up together, that her being the love of his life, meant that he was also hers. He’s deluded himself for almost six years and now it’s not just heartbreak that fills him but shame and guilt. Because how could he have ever thought she’d want to be with him again when he never even tried to offer her an apology or to tell anyone about her.

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steddielations · 1 year

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Of course Steve’s birthday is on Christmas.

It’s like the universe aligned perfectly for his parents to ignore his existence. Sure, he got enough presents to cover both when he was younger, when his parents wanted a perfect family holiday card to send out, but it was never about Steve.

When he got older, it was so easy for them to wrap it all up in one, mail him a check from whatever city, until the cards stopped saying happy birthday at all. Steve started wrapping it all up in one too. If his parents were going to leave him alone on Christmas and forget his birthday, it’s better at the same time, one less day of the year to be disappointed.

He hates December. He hates winter. He hates being surrounded by all those pretty lights taunting him for being alone in the dark.

He sort of forgets he has a birthday, until the last couple of years with Robin and the kids. He always tells them his Christmas present can double as his birthday present. Robin never goes for that though, she only gets him a birthday present.

Now comes Eddie. He doesn’t know about the wrap it up in one deal. He doesn’t know that Steve gets all broody around the subject. He’s just sitting next to Steve on the couch, going on about the fishing trip he’s taking Wayne on for his upcoming birthday.

It sounds nice. It’s only one weekend. Steve shouldn’t feel a pit in his stomach that already misses Eddie. They’re just friends, they can’t spend every weekend together, as much as Steve likes tagging along with whatever Eddie’s doing, he has to give him space.

“Yeah so it’s nothing compared to a big Harrington bash,” Eddie teases, passing Steve the joint, “Say, am I cool enough now to be invited to your birthday rager this year? When is it anyway?”

And that’s a simple question, but Steve doesn’t know what it is about Eddie that just draws the truth out of him, that makes him give the not simple answer. He blows out smoke and all the years of forgotten birthdays wrapped in one check and a Christmas card with it.

It’s too much, he’s too much and he starts to apologize, but Eddie cuts him off with a certain intensity he gets sometimes.

“Well, starting right now, fuck that. When do you want your birthday to be?”

Steve chuckles, tries to brush it off, “What? Eddie, c’mon. It’s not a big deal, dude.”

“No, seriously. When do you want your birthday to be, Steve?”

It’s so stupid. It’s so silly sitting in Eddie Munson’s living room trying to decide which day he’d prefer for his birthday, when he’s barely holding back saying how he sort of wishes he didn’t have one at all. He thinks Eddie knows anyway, without him having to say it, so he makes it easier. Eddie always makes it easier.

It takes a couple of tries, a couple cups full of torn pieces of paper with scribbled numbers randomly chosen, but Steve Harrington gets a new birthday that night.

“Yeah, you look like more of a summer baby anyway,” Eddie says and Steve wishes he wouldn’t, it’s so hard not to love him when he does.

Steve gets to tag along on Wayne’s birthday fishing trip, or rather, he was invited, as Eddie keeps correcting.

It’s nice, it’s May, it’s quiet by the river and it gets just cool enough at night to build a campfire. Eddie pulls out his guitar, a pretty acoustic one, and he playfully strums out the chords to happy birthday for Wayne. Steve watches across the fire, he feels warm down to his bones, melting away all those cold lonely Decembers frozen inside them.

Wayne spends his birthday teaching Steve to fish. He catches the biggest one, and he hopes the Polaroid that Eddie snaps doesn’t pick up the tears in his eyes.

Eddie sidles up next to him, pretending not to notice Steve wiping his eyes. He rubs his back, whispers congratulations, “Look at you, summer baby.”

He feels the sun rising in his cheeks, bright and burning. It’s impossible not to love Eddie, not when this is the best birthday Steve’s ever had and it’s not even his own.

Steve forgets all about the new date he chose to come into the world, and as the weeks pass in a warm haze, he stops trying not to love Eddie.

It’s too late to catch himself. He’s already falling as they lie on the trailer roof, talking about everything and nothing while sunset colors melt over them, as he rides along while Eddie deals and calls Steve his summer baby in the passenger seat.

Steve’s so in love with Eddie that it burns, makes him golden inside, even the places in him that have never known anything bright.

He doesn’t want to lose that, so he tells himself he can settle for just this.

And it’s true for a while, until that date comes along, the one he forgot about, but Eddie didn’t.

Robin has a spare key to his house, she helped Eddie plan all this, that’s the only explanation for what Steve sees in his backyard when he gets off work on a Friday in July.

All the kids are there, Dustin Henderson is in the pool that Steve hasn’t used since ‘83, with El Hopper on his shoulders, Mike Wheeler is doing the same holding up Will Byers, Lucas Sinclair and Max Mayfield are wrestling inside a bounce house, Nancy Wheeler is manning the grill Steve’s dad bought for show, Robin Buckley is grinning ear to ear with a bright glass of lemonade, and Eddie Munson’s at the center of it all.

Everyone that Steve loves is there yelling, “Surprise! Happy birthday!”

He can’t describe the feeling that bursts through him.

The July sun isn't in the sky anymore, it’s rising inside Steve’s chest. It’s too big and too bright. This body of his that grew up alone in the dead of winter wasn’t made to feel such warmth, bringing hot tears to his eyes.

He’s hurrying back inside the house before he knows it. He feels bad, rushing out like that, away from his party, but he just needs a second. He has to lean against the kitchen counter, run his hands over his face and through his hair, trying to stop all these feelings from melting out of him.

He hears someone come in behind him, assumes it’s Robin, but he feels a hand on his back, hears a low, reassuring voice next to him that belongs to Eddie.

“Sorry, fuck, I’m sorry, Steve. I should’ve asked if you were okay with this. I shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that.”

Steve blinks hard, brushing away the tears, “No it’s— It's fine, Eds, really.”

Eddie doesn’t look convinced, brown eyes deep with concern, he holds Steve’s elbows, “Okay well, Robin said you weren’t really a fan of your pool but that’s okay, if that’s what you’re worried about. No one expects you to get in, Stevie.”

He’s perfect. He’s everything Steve wants and needs. The light that’s been missing inside him, Eddie struck a match to it. Steve never knew his heart was so flammable and he doesn’t know how Eddie can’t see that he’s burning for him.

“No, thats— that’s not it, Eddie.”

“Is it the kiddy theme? Listen, I had trouble picking it, so I just thought maybe since it was mostly gonna be kids here and you never had a kids' birthday party then, y’know, summer, pool, bounce house, games— okay it sounds dumb now, I’ll just get everyone to leave—”

Steve reaches out when Eddie starts to pull back, hands catching his shoulders and the ends of his hair, “No, no, please don’t. This is— it’s perfect, Eddie. I can’t believe you did this for me.”

“Then why do you look so sad?”

“Because I—” Steve can’t hold it in anymore, it’s too hot, summer beneath his skin, he has to let it out, “Because I want to kiss you so bad right now and I can’t.”

He expects Eddie to pull back, or worse, let him down gently, like the quick press of fingertips to the flame of a candle, snuff the feeling out just like that.

Instead, Steve’s breath catches when Eddie’s hands cup his face, thumbs brushing away the stray tears Steve missed.

“Who says you can’t?” Eddie asks and part of Steve wishes he wouldn’t, because it’s so easy to love Eddie with every piece of him when he does, and Steve’s going to fall apart trying to stop.

“I shouldn’t have said that, sorry. I just don’t want to lose you as a friend, you don’t have to feel the same, but that’s what it is,” Steve lets it out, let’s it catch fire between them and just hopes it doesn’t turn them to ashes, “I want to kiss you for doing this for me, for being you. I want to kiss you all the fucking time and especially right now, Eddie, but I can’t.”

He waits for it, to be left out in the cold, for frost to cover his bones again, but Eddie’s hands stay warm on his face.

A smile lights on Eddie’s lips, the kind that Steve can feel radiating between them. He doesn’t know why Eddie’s smiling when he should be leaving, but Steve wants to keep that feeling forever.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you, Stevie? You can do whatever you want when it’s your birthday.”

Eddie’s eyes fall to Steve’s lips and back up again, setting off a surprised flare in his chest.

“Whatever I want?” Steve repeats in disbelief, searching Eddie’s eyes.

“Whatever you want.”

“You want that too?”

“I want you, too,” Eddie grins like it’s the easiest thing in the world to want Steve, then leans in.

Their mouths connect and it’s like something fiercely cosmic, a solar flare at the touch of their lips.

Eddie’s been sipping lemonade, Steve can taste it on his tongue. Citrusy and warm, Eddie tastes like pure fucking sunshine, all golden in Steve’s mouth.

Kissing Eddie feels like he’s at the center of the universe. He makes Steve feel like the sun, like the brightest thing in the goddamn sky is Steve Harrington.

No pretty light could compare.

Steve chases the heat of Eddie’s mouth, letting it light a fire inside him. His hands have a mind of their own, making Eddie’s messy hair even messier, then falling to his waist to pull him close and hold him while he just kisses and kisses and kisses Eddie.

They have to break for air, foreheads resting together, Steve misses Eddie’s lips already.

Their panting breaths fuse, gazes locked for a few delirious moments, half-lidded and close.

Eddie breaks the silence, laughing breathlessly, giving Steve’s lips one final peck before pulling back, brushing Steve’s hair out of his eyes for him.

“You good?”

Steve laughs then too, a rush of breath, relieved and light, “Never been better.”

Eddie smiles, taking Steve’s hands in the warmth of his, “C’mon then, summer baby. Don’t wanna miss your birthday party.”

They go back outside and Eddie stays close by Steve with a pretty flush high on his cheeks. Steve’s face feels sun-kissed too, and judging by the look he gets from Robin, it shows.

It should be stupid, having a birthday party with a bounce house and a bunch of screaming kids. Maybe it is a little, but it’s still the best birthday Steve’s ever had, and it’s actually his own this time.

He spends the better part of it trying not to cry, especially when he opens the few presents they got him. He’s not used to everything being about him, but Eddie’s arm stays around him, giving him encouraging squeezes, bursts of warmth that keep him going.

Steve’s not forgotten in the shadow of something bigger, wrapped up in one so it’s easier to forget he exists. No, it’s like nothing’s more important than him that day. He doesn’t need it, and it’s hard to let himself have it, but it’s nice to get a day that’s his.

When Christmas comes later that year, Robin still gets Steve a birthday present, there’s no arguing with her. Then Eddie tries to pull the same thing, and Steve’s not having it.

They’re both in their flannels on the couch, Eddie throwing his legs over Steve’s lap and trying to push the extra gift into Steve’s hands.

“C’mon, Stevie, I swear it’s not a birthday present. It's just because.”

“Uh huh, sure. Just because what?”

Eddie shrugs, rests his arm around Steve’s shoulders and presses the words against his cheek, “Just ’cause I love you,” he says like it’s the easiest thing in the world to love Steve.

Steve thinks he knows what to call that feeling now. The one that makes December easier because he’s got his own summer sun pumping warmth through his veins now.

It's love.

Eddie loves him.

Not just on his birthday, or on Christmas, or only on occasion, but everyday. Eddie loves him everyday.

ao3 link

#when you love someone so much you just gotta give them an extra birthday #not a christmas fic i swear #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #steve x eddie #stranger things #eddie x steve #my fics #rueswriting #steddie ficlet #steveddie #fluff #mp #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington headcanons

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pseudowho · 5 months

Text

In Flagrante Delicto

Higuruma Hiromi will fight your help and guidance every step of the way...until one night, he catches himself needing you desperately.

An AU where Higuruma is forced into the employ of Jujutsu High after his role in The Culling Games.

Warnings: 18+, sex pollen!, angst, smut and fluff, Hiromi being willing to argue with anyone about anything, with a little bit of sex pollen needy Hiromi

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Higuruma Hiromi was undoubtedly the most difficult mission you had ever been given.

Tasked with walking Hiromi through 'the systems' of the Jujutsu world, you, a sorcerer who had been introduced to this world more conventionally, had absolutely nothing in your armory to counter the veritable force of nature that this man was.

You argued, constantly. He forced you to acknowledge the hideous insufficiencies and injustices in the system you worked for, at the most inconvenient of times.

Your patience was a finely tuned machine. You had perfected your ability to debate and discuss the ethics and morality of Jujutsu sorcerer activity, both legal and illegal, over a number of years.

But Higuruma Hiromi had driven you to drink. One evening, sat at home, deeper into a bottle of wine than you had anticipated, you received two messages in quick succession; one, from Yaga ("Mission with Higuruma tomorrow. Details to be sent over by Ijichi") and the other, from Higuruma ("I look forward to continuing our discussion tomorrow"), and you groaned, sinking the rest of your wine, and hoping it was enough to get you through the chaos of Higuruma's mind.

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"So," you started, approaching the subway with Higuruma, "lots of late-night civilian disappearances on this one line," you pointed to your map, "and two Second-Grade sorcerers have already disappeared in separate incidents. What does this tell you?"

Higuruma was silent, musing as he tapped his gavel lightly against his hip. Reaching his conclusion, he turned to you with a wry smile: "That your higher-ups knew, by the first Second-Grade's death, that a Second-Grade wasn't strong enough, but sent another Second-Grade anyway."

You sighed, deep and weary, "While that's probably true, we don't know they're dead--"

"Well they're not playing Scrabble, are they--"

"--and that's not the answer I'm looking for--"

"Well, I'm not here to be charitable, or unrealistic."

"Oh, are you here to be insufferable?"

Higuruma half-laughed, "Preferably. God forbid I should be sufferable--"

You swiped his gavel from his hand, and tapped him sharply on the forehead, "Higuruma. Please. I'm begging you," you clasped your hands for dramatic effect as he assessed you, a sardonic half-smile in his hooded eyes, "the quicker you play the game, the quicker you and I can go our separate ways and you can just go out and do this by yourself."

Higuruma's lip curled up in bitter distaste. He wiggled one finger into the knot of his tie, loosening it with an irritated twist of his neck. "I'll reiterate," he said, considered and flat, "that my joining the Jujutsu sorcerer's established hierarchy is a Hobson's Choice."

"If I want to go about making some positive changes to this cesspit," he spat, "I have to prove myself trustworthy in their eyes, and atone for my crimes by playing their game." Higuruma approached you, his chin tilted down as he looked through you, with sombre eyes.

"And the sad thing is," he said softly, now inches from you as you burned under his scrutiny, "you've been playing their game for so many years, you've convinced yourself that the rules are fair."

You swallowed, meeting his gaze; your agreement with him passed as an unspoken pact, but you were, as of yet, unable to betray your established part in this system with words. Higuruma nodded, slowly, understanding.

"So I'll inconvenience you as little as possible," he reassured, "and try to be a good boy today." You closed your eyes, breathing in through your nose, and out through your mouth, counting to ten. Opening your eyes, you caught up to Higuruma, who was already halfway down the empty subway steps.

"Please don't go ahead without me," you pressed, "I know you're not completely inexperienced, but fighting Curses is much more nuanced than fighting Curse-users."

"But they're brainless, right? By all means they're probably easier." You tilted your hand from side to side.

"They fight on instinct. We can be guilty of overthinking something that's primal for them. I'd never assume I can out-think evolution."

Higuruma hummed, satisfied with your answer. You were relieved to have averted another argument. Reaching the bottom of the steps together, your shadows were short in the low eerie glow of the empty subway system.

"So the victims got on a train, but never got off it," Higuruma confirmed with you.

"But it hasn't been the same train every time, so it seems to--"

"--pick a host. Right. And you've asked the station master to keep to the same train schedule tonight?"

"Mhm. No people around though."

"So, we could always just get on trains until we're attacked."

"That is completely reckless, and I won't--"

Higuruma breezed away down the corridor, his slim suited figure sloping away so lackadaisically that you felt annoyance bubble up in your throat.

"You don't have to come," he called back, relaxed and confident, "I've got this covered." You ran after him, grabbing his upper arm. He stopped, annoyed and impatient.

"Just...trust me," Higuruma urged, "try something new. You may be pleasantly surprised." He gripped your hand, firmly breaking your grip as he stared you down.

"How can I trust you? I barely know you."

"Then why are you worried about me?" He taunted, heated and scathing, "Not really what you lot do, is it? Worry about each other?"

"Well I worry about you," you snapped, "I worry about you every day and every night since they tasked me with taking care of you." You swallowed, embarrassed by your outburst. Higuruma hesitated briefly, looking...touched? He spun round, his back to you now, tapping his gavel in irritation against his thigh.

"That settles it then," he said, convicted and grabbing you by the hand, "you've got to come with me. It would be cruel not to let you worry. Come along."

You were pulled through the dim corridors of the subway system by Higuruma Hiromi, protesting the whole way.

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"-- so stupid, you could have died--"

"-- but I didn't, and I'm fine, so stop worr--"

You slapped the wounded shoulder you were currently patching up for Higuruma, and he made a noise of protest as you scolded him, "Stop telling me to stop worrying," you cried, pressing gauze to his cuts, "because I've worked in this shitty system for years, so I know that if we don't worry about each other, nobody else will worry about us, and you have no regard for your own wellbeing--"

Higuruma's head snapped up, smiling, "So you agree," he pressed, excited by the new development, "that the higher-ups have no intention to safeguard any of you--"

"--I never disagreed with you, Higuruma. You just...missed the point. As usual."

Higuruma turned, unable to look you in the eye as you continued dabbing the back of his shoulder. His eyes beseeched you to continue, dark and quizzical.

You continued, your voice tight and upset, "Whether or not we fight back against the higher-ups, makes no difference. Almost every sorcerer in this wreck would go where they were sent anyway, because at least we have a chance of defending ourselves against the monsters out here."

You sighed, taping bandages down, Higuruma's bleeding now settled, "So that's what I decided to do. I expend my energy protecting the non-sorcerers because they're the weakest link in the equation. They can't defend themselves. It's the right thing to do. I'll fight the big fight on my days off."

Higuruma was quiet, allowing himself to be chastised. He rolled the gavel between his hands. He suddenly felt so exposed, shirtless in front of you, feeling every touch of your soft hands as they assessed his ribs, and he gulped, unusually unable to find the words to say.

"Do you, uh...do you want to grab a drink? After we're done here," he offered weakly, eager to spend time with you outside of these roles you were forced to play.

"No," you emphasised as he rubbed his nose, "you'd probably tell me my drink order was wrong." Higuruma sunk his face into his hands, laughing.

"I'm not that bad--"

"You are dreadful. I love the...the passion you have, but I'm just...I'm tired. I'd rather go home." Higuruma nodded, thoroughly shot-down, respecting your refusal.

Sloping home that night, insisting he'd prefer to walk over being dropped home by Nitta, Higuruma considered he may have been fighting the wrong person for weeks now. Torn between 'playing the game' to get out from under your feet as soon as possible, and resisting becoming part of another broken, unjust system, Higuruma found himself erring unusually on the side which benefitted you over anyone else.

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In the midst of battle, you found yourself separated from Higuruma, cold dread seeping into your belly as you realised there was nobody else here to save him from himself. Distracted, you took a major hit, thrown by some sordid thrashing beast down an old brick staircase.

You had largely protected your body in swathes of your own Cursed-energy, but still had the breath forced out of your lungs as you had hit the wall below. The Curse, enormous and puce-coloured, roared down the stairs after you.

Trying to stand on a dice roll, your numbers came up short and you stumbled, heart lurching into your mouth.

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You and Higuruma had been assigned to clear out a growing populace of curses in an abandoned block of flats. Trying to talk to him, to plan tactics and methodology, Higuruma had seemed quietly indifferent towards you on the journey there. Refusing to engage with you on any serious level, he seemed almost bored of you, staring impassively out of the window throughout.

You tried not to be hurt, reminding yourself you were here to assess whether or not Higuruma was safe to act independently as a sorcerer. After his series of murders in the Culling Games and before, he was offered two choices: work for Jujutsu High, or refuse and face being hunted down and executed. But, he was an adult, and his safety was ultimately not your jurisdiction if he refused to take your advice.

And yet...the thought of his death by any means filled you with a sickly dread.

Because in reality, Higuruma represented the idealism, the ethical standards that working within a broken system had steadily stamped out of you. Your anger towards him was a projection of your own shame at having fallen into line when you wanted nothing more than to rebel, to protect the weak, including your own colleagues, despite the resistance.

Even worse, Higuruma saw this, and his disappointment in you only deepened your shame. You were meant to be 'helping him' to adapt to your world, and you felt sick to your stomach as you tried to contaminate this man. You felt sicker still as you felt yourself creep closer and closer to his way of thinking, wondering if you fit in this world anymore.

You couldn't tell him how deeply you admired him for being everything you had fallen so far from.

After efforts to interact had fallen flat, you sat beside each other in stony silence. Still, you felt, despite his feigned indifference, anger poured off him, not cold, but white hot.

"What have I...what have I done?" you asked, afraid of the answer.

Higuruma looked at you, eyes still glowing like little coals in his impassive face; "What have you done?" he retaliated. You sighed, a short breath out of your nose.

"...you're not ready to be sent out alone yet. You're reckless and you've got by on luck so far, but--"

"--so you saw fit to carry on this babysitting charade by telling the higher-ups that I'm a danger to myself and others around me." Higuruma scowled at you, not trying to conceal his fury anymore. You blushed, feeling the shame twist in your throat.

"...you...assume you're going to come out on top in every fight, so you don't assess the danger before you jump in, and it's just a matter of time before-- before you--" You reached out to take his hand, desperate to communicate your fear for him in a way he would understand. Higuruma moved to pull his hand away and you held on harder.

"I just...couldn't stand to see you die some pointless death," you urged, "I need-- we need men like you." Higuruma appeared unmoved, silently allowing you to squeeze his hand. Eventually, his long fingers slowly closed around yours.

"I don't think anyone's cared about me this much in years," he replied, as lightly as if he were talking about the weather.

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Brickwork and rubble clouded your vision as the floor rumbled beneath your feet, the Curse blown sideways, shunted by a comedically large gavel. You felt a taut-muscled arm loop around your waist, yanking you to stand-- "get up, come on-- NOW!" -- and you half-ran, half-staggered through a devastated corridor. Your heart sank as you spotted the staircases downward completely collapsed, leaving you both stranded on the fifth floor.

Higuruma appeared, dusty and spitting, wiping residue out of his eyes and slamming his hand to a button on the wall. In a wild flurry, the Curse turned the corner, screeching and hissing, and with a *ping* the lift doors opened. Not looking back at you, Higuruma shoved you into the open lift, slamming his hand on the button again for the doors to close.

"No-- Higuruma! Hiromi!" You skidded across the lift on grazed knees, wedging your arm between the doors with a yell as they closed around it. The lift didn't move down, and you heard Higuruma's incoherent shout of rage at you as you forced the doors open, reaching out for him and dragging him in by the back of his collar, and hammering the 'close doors' button repeatedly as the Curse, still dazed and staggered, made its headlong rush towards you.

As you fell into the lift with Higuruma, you felt a hand press behind your head, its fine bones crunching as it cushioned your head's strike against the wall. You sat, slumped, Higuruma's body over yours in a protective cage, as the doors slid closed, denting inwards as the Curse hit them with a metallic thud, and a roar.

Silence. Higuruma, silent and seething, reached behind him to press another button. The lift started a smooth descent downwards.

"I had it," he spat, lips curled upwards, nose wrinkled in animated fury, "and you stopped me-- for what? Why?"

You gulped, coughing brick dust out of your lungs as you croaked, "You were lunch. You were that close to being killed--"

"--do you really think I'm that inept--"

"--you're not inept, just inexperienced--"

"I'm not a fucking child!" Higuruma's voice rang, deep and final, around the lift. The lift pinged as you reached the bottom floor. You sighed again, pushing him away from you as you stood, moving towards the doors.

"We'll regroup and consider our plan of--" A wiry arm blocked your path, holding down the 'close doors' button.

"We are not finished," Higuruma pressed, enunciating every syllable with gritted teeth. You rested your hand on his forearm, gentle and weary.

"I am. I'm finished." Higuruma stared at you incredulously, hackles still raised. You continued, "I can't coddle you anymore. You're a smart man, you're happy you know what you're doing. So I'm finished. I won't keep fighting you for your own life, Hiromi."

Hiromi deflated slowly, unable to fight without an opponent. His lip still curled, he refused to move his arm from blocking the door, looking away from you as his fury simmered low.

"I'll clear you with the higher ups. Do what you want to finish up here. I'm done." Still, Hiromi didn't let you go, silent as your hand stayed tenderly on his forearm. A few heartbeats passed between you.

"The thing is, Hiromi...you've already lost the fight when you think the result is the most important thing. Being willing to put yourself forward to defend people, going through that fight for them...that's the really noble thing. Any idiot can win a fight. It takes guts to stand up and decide to fight in the first place."

Reaching past Hiromi to press the 'open doors' button, the lift flooded with daylight, muted by the external veil. Hiromi's arm dropped, beaten. As you moved to step past him, his fingers gently tangled in yours, your hands ghosting together between your bodies.

"Can I...can I buy you a drink? To thank you." You swallowed, throat thick with conflicting emotion. You hesitated, then nodded. Hiromi smiled down at you, something unreadably tender in his eyes.

He leaned slowly down, and pressed a soft-lipped kiss to your forehead; "thank you."

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You didn't get to go out for that drink. After giving the higher-ups your approval for Higuruma to be released, he was thrown headlong into mission after mission.

You sent him occasional texts, and he messaged back, usually dry witty commentaries on the jobs he'd been given. You found yourself missing him, feeling little golden bubbles of joy when your phone pinged, his name on the screen.

It had been a week since your disastrous argument in the lift. You still felt guilty for having abandoned him, still not feeling he was ready, but knowing he had to find his own footing at this point.

Late one evening, you dried your hair with a towel, padding around your apartment in just your underwear as you got ready for bed. You jumped and squeaked with alarm as someone hammered on your door. Grabbing an oversized t-shirt from a pile of laundry, you pulled it on over your head. Approaching the door, cautious, you were alarmed to feel--

"...Hiromi?"

Hiromi leaned against your doorframe, his head on his forearm, and he looked at you with feverish eyes, panting, apparently in pain. His dishevelled suit, and a blossoming bruise beneath his right eye placed him as a man fresh from a mission.

Without hesitation, you gripped Hiromi by the hand and pulled him into your apartment, closing and locking the door. Immediately your hands grasped his cheeks, looking deeply into his eyes, a look of such sweet concern on your face that he gulped, overwhelmed, desperate.

"What happened? Why are you here? You should get to Shoko--"

"I don't want Shoko," he spat, chest heaving as he turned away again, pressing his forehead to his fist against the door, "I want...I want you." You blushed, pleased he had come to you for help, but your medical knowledge was limited.

"What happened?" You asked again, hands cautiously ghosting over his abdomen, checking for injuries.

Hiromi groaned, low and slow, as he burned from the inside out. Your touch shot through him like a thousand arrows. His fingers seared his skin as he fumbled, trying to undo his own tie, and you took pity, reaching round him, your small hands cool against his neck as you removed his tie for him. You felt him tremble against you.

As his collar opened, you spotted a narrow, inch-long dart in his neck, like a cactus prickle. Curious, you plucked it out and dropped it onto the sideboard near the door. Is he poisoned? You questioned yourself in a panic, and you grasped him by the cheeks again, looking deeply into his eyes, terrified you'd watch the life ebb out of him, unable to do anything.

"What do you...what are you feeling?" You took him by the hand, guiding him to your sofa and forcing him to sit as you stood in front of him. His sloped eyes were narrow, taking in your barely-covered legs, the barely-concealed nubs of your nipples beneath the t-shirt fabric. Hiromi reached out with a shaking hand, grazing his fingers up your calf and your breath hitched.

"...Hiromi?" His hooded eyes flicked up to yours as his fingers stayed on your calf. Oh, you looked so uncertain, so concerned for him, and it was...delicious.

"It hurts," Hiromi croaked, "I need-- I-- I need--" His throat was tight, and you took him in, how desperate he looked, how needy, and the realisation clicked into place.

"You need...me?" Hiromi shuddered, recalling how he'd walked directly into an obvious trap while hunting down this godforsaken Curse, not taking in his surroundings, stubborn and certain in his ability to prevail--

"I'm sorry," he whimpered, cock throbbing, trapped against his thigh, his whole body burning from the inside out, "I was wrong."

"Oh, so you do know how to flirt," you teased and he huffed out a laugh, groaning again, in agony, and he begged, shameless, his head leant forward to press against your tummy as his hands crept up, eager to grasp your hips and pull you straight to his mouth.

"Please...please--" he whined, and you shivered feeling his hot breath on your belly through the fabric of your t-shirt, tangling your hands into his hair. Hiromi trembled, letting out a sandy growl against your clothes.

"Don't stop me, please," he urged, "I can't...I can't stop myself." He flipped your t-shirt up and you gasped, his strong hands sinking into the plush of your hips, holding you to his mouth, his tongue tasting you as he swiped open-mouthed kisses just above your underwear.

You felt sweet pleasure throb between your legs, all good sense thrown out of the window as you felt how deeply you had missed Hiromi, how ridiculously grateful you felt to be needed by him in this way, and you breathed to him, "You know I'd always help you."

Hiromi moaned his appreciation, his mouth now slipping down to the front of your underwear, and his tongue traced the shape of your pussy, groaning at the taste of you on the tip of his tongue. Your knees buckled, weak with the feeling of his mouth against you.

His lean arms hooked around the back of your knees, lifting them over his shoulders as he leaned you back against him. You cried out, when leaning forwards to grasp the back of the sofa, your clothed pussy pressed firmly against Hiromi's face.

You blushed as he breathed you in, his hips bucking instinctively upwards, aching to be inside you, cum heavy in his balls and desperate for release. His teeth grazed your pussy through your underwear, and he nuzzled into you, trying to part your folds with his nose through the fabric. Impatient, and feeling your hand sink into his hair again, he used two fingers to swipe your underwear aside, sinking his tongue instantly between your folds.

You whined so beautifully above him, and he undid his trousers, pulling his cock out of his trousers, gripping it tightly as he rubbed his nose and tongue urgently between your soft lips. Hiromi began to stroke himself furiously, squeezing hard at the tip, pre-cum dripping down his fist, shivering at the pleasure.

You allowed Hiromi to use you, your keening voice rising as he latched onto your clit, sinking two fingers into your pussy with no warning, thrusting them roughly into you. You bucked your hips against his face as he whimpered his approval. You blushed as you heard the frantic plaps of Hiromi pleasuring himself, your brain foggy with bliss.

Hiromi's fingers bullied into you, desperate to study you, imagining how deliciously his cock would stretch those plush walls. The constant pressure of his fingers against your cervix and his desperately nuzzling tongue and nose between your folds had you reeling, humping his face as you trembled and shook, Hiromi encouraging it as you approached your orgasm.

Your pleasure peaked, sharp and sweet, and Hiromi held you tightly to his face, still determined to taste you, drawing your orgasm out until you quivered, overstimulated, feeling your heart pulse between your legs. As Hiromi shook from his own orgasm, but not at all relieved and panting, cum dribbling down the front of his shirt, he dropped you into his lap.

You gripped the front of his shirt, his cum sticky against your belly. His hand tangled into your hair as he crushed his lips to yours with bruising force, forcing you to taste him. Nipping your bottom lip between his teeth, he whispered, begging again.

"Inside you...please, please..." You nodded again, and Hiromi threw your shirt off over your head, leaning back to drink you in; panting, trembling, straddling his lap, what the fuck was he playing at by fighting with you for so long--

Your hands worked nimbly at the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning and pressing it down his arms and you leaned forwards, almost as hungry as him as you took his nipple into your mouth. Hiromi hissed with delight, kicking off his trousers, shoes and socks and rocking your hips against him.

Hiromi grasped your hands, pressing one to his cheek, and one to his chest, forcing you to lean forwards as you shamelessly cast your eyes up and down his lean body, his muscles twitching with the electricity of your core on his aching cock. His teeth scraped against the thin skin on the inside of your wrist, your shivers like a sedative to him.

His eyes burned into yours, hot and pleading in the dark. His body was a furnace against yours, desperately craving a cure for the agony he was in. You lifted one leg off him, intending to stand to remove your underwear, but stopped as Hiromi all but sobbed against your wrist at the sudden loss of pressure on his cock, throbbing and sticky with cum against the neat, black hair on his belly. His fine-boned hands pressed you hard against him, before methodically tearing the sides of your underwear, flinging the scrap of fabric to the side.

When you grasped his aching cock, Hiromi was almost blinded by the anticipation, his hands flinging out sideways to grip the fabric of the sofa, and he panted, whimpering and pleading as you rubbed the angry red head of his cock between your folds, gathering wetness.

When you sank slowly down onto him, crying out as your walls fluttered around him like wet velvet, Hiromi came again with a shout, faint with bliss and temporary relief, feeling his own seed drip out of you and onto his thighs. He growled in frustration when, after his cock had stopped twitching inside you, he felt the need to cum again build up within his belly, overwhelming him with an almost violent urge to pursue it.

"...Hiromi? Do you...is this...?" You rode him slowly as he twisted in pleasure and anguish beneath you. Reaching up to grasp your breasts like stress-balls, Hiromi shook his head desperately at you, feeling pathetic and helpless. He was corseted by his intense need to not hurt you. You leaned into him, whispering reassurance and soft nothings in his ear.

Hiromi couldn't take it anymore. Standing up, holding himself inside you and locking your ankles behind his hips, he flipped you over, crushing your thighs to your chest. Grasping the back of the sofa, Hiromi snapped his hips against yours with determined precision, his shoulders tight and mouth slack as with every thrust he felt the urge to push harder, deeper, to empty himself inside you again and again, until you were putty in his hands, until he had cleansed himself of this unscratchable itch.

You clawed for purchase on anything as you were pounded into the sofa, drunk on the sensation of being so full, your insides feeling thrillingly bruised, the tenderness building, slow and intense. Reaching up, you plaited your fingers in Hiromi's at the top of the sofa, and he leaned down, nipping and kissing your knuckles in grateful affection.

The air was filled with the wet slaps of your joint bodies, and Hiromi's constant soft whimpers as you came again, this orgasm burning through your body as you hiccuped, tears streaming into your hair.

"Please please please...please, please," Hiromi begged as his next orgasm surged ruinously through him, dropping him to his knees on the edge of the sofa. Hiromi felt his senses return to him with each pulse of cum that left his body, relieved...for now.

Weak, exhausted, Hiromi flopped onto you, wrapping your arms and legs around him in a full-body embrace, suddenly feeling so touch-starved. Hiromi almost wept his thanks into your hair, and you stroked his hair in soft circles with your nails, all reassurance and acceptance.

By the time you had made it to your bedroom and slipped, sticky and spent, between the soft covers, Hiromi's eyes had returned to you, hungry and burning, his fingers stroking through your folds, fascinated by the drips of his seed still leaking out of you. He had flipped you over and pinned you prone to the mattress, sinking into you and moaning your praises as you had clenched, trembling with overstimulation, sucking his cock into your aching body.

Throughout the night, his relief had waned, with longer and longer gaps between him seeking out the warm acceptance of your body. You would wake to his body flush against yours, Hiromi lifting your leg over his hip as he sunk into you, mewling and panting in the night.

Finally, you had woken with sunlight streaming through the windows, Hiromi draped around you, looking soft and exhausted as he slept; Hiromi woke to the smell of coffee and you, very much ready to be cared for...and, occasionally, argued with.

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Ugh, yes. Debate me, lawyer daddy.

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halfagone · 7 months

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Is it Canon or Fanon?

A little over a week ago, I received a very thought-provoking ask that wondered whether the Fenton parents could be considered good parents after everything they've done throughout the show. I did leave a response to that ask, and you can find the original answer here. But even afterwards, it had me thinking:

Why did we start depicting Jack and Maddie as Bad Parents to begin with?

I aim to answer this question through canon evidence to see where this argument might have come from. Now, something to keep in mind is that we still tend to ignore canon a lot of the time, so there may be some people who won't take this meta to mean all that much anyways. But for the purpose of fanfiction, we have to acknowledge that there needs to be an in-universe explanation to these events and sadly, the 'it's a Butch Hartman show' or 'it's an early 2000s cartoon' excuses don't really cut it.

So let's start with some basic stats. There are 49 episodes to the Danny Phantom cartoon (we will not be using the Graphic Novel, A Glitch in Time, for examples); 20 for the first season, 17 for the second, and 12 for the third. If you looked this up on Google, you might notice that these numbers don't line up with the episode list provided. This is because I counted any two-part episodes as one for convenience's sake. Season 2 has three two-parters: "Reign Storm", "The Ultimate Enemy", and "Reality Trip". Season 3 has "Phantom Planet".

Jack appears for 43 of those episodes, although he does not have any speaking lines in the episode, "Frightmare". Maddie, on the other hand, appears in 40 episodes. The three episodes that Maddie does not appear in, but Jack does, are as follows: "Memory Blank", "Flirting With Disaster", and "Double Cross My Heart".

Let's Start with Season 1:

"Mystery Meat": Jack is shown as dismissive to Danny and his friends' preferences, telling them, "True, I've never seen a ghost, but when I do, I'll be prepared. And so will you, whether you want to be or not." Later on, when Sam and Tucker are visibly shaking and Danny is panting from exhaustion, he doesn't realize something is off about this. When Jazz offers to drive Danny to school, the Fenton parents quickly assume that she's a ghost and go off to track them down... even despite her previous argument that she was mentally an adult (should I be concerned that Jazz called Danny an 'abused, unwanted wretch' to make a point to their parents?) A POINT TO MADDIE, she worried about hurting Jazz if she really wasn't a ghost but Jack quickly dismisses that, as their ghost-hunting device only hurts when gets into human hair (spoiler alert, it gets into Jazz's hair). She also insists that Danny is not a ghost, but unfortunately she ultimately doesn't try to stop Jack when he insist Jazz is a ghost. Standing aside and letting abuse play out does not mean Maddie is innocent of hurting her daughter too.

"Fanning the Flames": When Jazz and Danny are struggling to study for an upcoming test, Jack decides that they should put their kids into the 'Fenton Stockades' which is basically an iron maiden. And yes, the Fentons have an entire floor that is meant to torture people. I feel like that should probably be addressed at some point. A POINT TO MADDIE, she stood her ground and refused to let him put their children inside, and even locks him inside instead.

"Teacher of the Year": After hearing displeasing news about the state of Danny's grades in a parent-teacher conference, Maddie lectures Danny by saying, "Get this straight Danny. You're a Fenton. Fentons get As. Or in your father's case, B minuses." Before this, when Danny tried to explain himself, Jack shuts him up with, "Now that's enough of your sass talk mister." Do a lot of parents act like this? Yes. Does that make this a good, conductive way to help your child improve their grades? No, it does not. In fact, Maddie's response in particular probably reinforces the idea that Danny doesn't fit in with the rest of his family and further proves that Jazz is the favorite child. Not a great parenting moment.

"Fright Knight": In this episode, Jack tells Danny, "If I didn't consider it a sign of weakness, I'd weep with joy!" Not a very promising sign when a parent tells their child that it's wrong to show emotion. It's especially telling, however, when it's crying from joy and not even sadness. Yikes.

"13": This is the episode where Jazz 'dates' Johnny briefly, and we see Danny stalking them on their dates. I've seen people give Danny a decent amount of flack for that as well, so this would be a good time to say that the Fenton parents were there too and even encouraged him to keep stalking his sister. Danny was wrong to ignore Jazz's privacy like that, but he definitely learned it somewhere.

"Public Enemies": Here we see more of the Fenton parents' aggression towards ghosts. We get a line from Jack: "I'm gonna tear that ghost kid apart into a million different-" Notice something here? He recognizes that Phantom is a ghost 'kid' and yet still fully intends to shoot at him with the intent to hurt if not straight-up kill him. The only time Maddie disagrees with him is to insist that she does the dirty work because she has better aim than him. These are not the type of people you should let children stay with.

"Maternal Instincts": Okay, I gotta say it, this is a really cute episode. We get to see Maddie reminiscing over how close she and Danny used to be and wishing they had that bond again. Unfortunately she does get some points docked off for deciding what they should do as a bonding activity instesd of asking what Danny wanted to do and maybe learning more about his interests and who he is as a person now that he's a teenager. But there is this really sweet moment where Maddie tells Danny 'I love you' at the campsite which absolutely melted my heart and then later on when she saves Danny from the ghosts, Danny tells her she's awesome and gives her a hug. So sweet. But then she kinda ruins it by asking her son to act as a distraction and- Please do not ask your teenage children to keep skeevy old guys 'entertained' when you know he's a creep. A POINT TO JACK, while all this is going on he's defending his daughter and even shouts, "Back off, she's a minor!" That's some Dr. Doofenshmirtz energy right there, I respect it. He also talks about making Jazz an action figure, which was a really cute moment amidst the chaos.

"The Million Dollar Ghost": This episode is filled with some great Danny-Jack bonding moments and goes to show how much Danny cares about his father that he's willing to get caught to make Jack feel better about himself. We also get to see how much Jack cares about how Danny views him and he wants to be someone in Danny's eyes. Unfortunately, this is the episode where Danny gets lectured for not doing all his lab chores, such as cleaning the beakers and changing the ecto-filtrator- despite knowing that the portal could blow up if they don't change in time and knowing that Danny is bad at cleaning his own room. And we literally get a scene where Jack knocks something over and tells Danny to clean it up because he was too busy running around to do it himself. Is it important to give children chores? Yes, it teaches them responsibility. You should not be asking them to deal with hazardous, dangerous chemicals that can literally cause an explosion capable of killing people. Something to keep in mind.

Now let's look at Season 2:

"Doctor's Disorders": In this lovely (sarcasm) episode, we have Jack saying to Danny's face: "Poor Jazz. She's always been my favorite." I don't feel like this one needs much more explanation for how horrible this is. Also, this isn't really too relevant to the bad-parent-thing and more to the "they wouldn't take Danny's reveal well under other circumstances" thing, because Maddie literally says to Tucker: "Everybody knows humans can't have ghost powers." Which would technically, probably, dehumanize Danny in their eyes.

"Identity Crisis": There's one line in particular in this episode I wanted to point out, which is from Jack where he says, "Safety features? Why, safety features are for punks." ...I know this is probably supposed to be a joke, but when you think about it, it's even worse than you might think. In fanon we do tend to stress how forgetful the Fentons are when it comes to lab safety, but it's one thing to forget and it's a whole other thing to purposefully dismiss it. I could even argue that we're doing the Fentons a service by characterizing them as simply forgetful.

"The Fenton Menace": This is one of the episodes I referenced in the original ask as well, for its... plethora of concerning material. There are lines such as, "Whether it's air land or sea I won't stop until we capture a ghost and tear it apart. Molecule by molecule." A POINT TO MADDIE, she told her family she loved them by saying, "Nothing like spending quality family time with the people you love." However she immediately loses those points when she and Jack attempt to 'spin the crazy' out of Danny. The episode transcript reveals Danny's reaction to this, which is described by, "Danny screaming, his face and hair flying around. Zoom out to show him strapped to a table, which is attached to a metal arm. Zoom out to show the metal arm connected to a centrifuge-like device on the ceiling." As well as, "Danny is shaking, hair sticking up with bags under his eyes." Is this supposed to be a joke? I wouldn't know because quite frankly, I'm not laughing.

"The Fright Before Christmas": So in this episode we learn why Danny hates Christmas! Which is because he got peed on by a dog. As a baby. What kind of parent lets their baby get peed on by a dog? Again, child neglect is a criminally punishable offense, and if they had left him out, in the cold, with dog piss on him, we could have had a lot bigger problems here. They also ignore both their children for most of this episode due to their arguing, although they go back later on and tell Danny that he shouldn't be alone for Christmas and where was all this concern before?

"Secret Weapons": Ah... This is the episode where it happens. Here we get the infamous interaction. Please note how a ghost is referred to as an 'it'. Not a person, not even a kid. But an 'it' that can feel pain that will go ignored.

Jazz: "Does it hurt the ghost?" Maddie: [laughs] "Oh, Jazz! You know your father and I don't care about that. Jack: "Yeah! If we hear it scream, then we know it's working."

"Micro-Management": At the very end of this episode, Jack makes a comment to Danny, "I'm so proud. Our boy finally has the physical prowess of a 60 year old president. Here's to you son." Clearly it's meant to be a compliment, but I don't know about you guys, but I wouldn't take this as a compliment.

"Masters of All Time": This one takes a more distressing turn, because after Maddie catches Danny for snooping around, she has his strapped down to a table and fires a laser at him to interrogate him, thinking he's a ghost (though the laser doesn't hit him, just threatens him, which... isn't much better). And this is after he's already insisted that he's her son. He is still very clearly a child, and even if she doesn't believe that he's her son (for admittedly understandable reasons, people usually remember when they bear children), the fact that she strapped him to a table at all does not look favorably on her. Especially when he very clearly believed that she was his mother, and he was her son. And she still did this to him. Yes, there were time shenanigans involved, but that doesn't make this any easier on Danny just because he knows the truth.

"Reality Trip": This episode showcases that the Fenton parents can actually be decent parents. While they have a hard time believing the truth at first, they do eventually accept it. However, it is still important to remember that Danny could have never known what their reaction would be, so his fear is understandable and rooted in real concern for his life. Here are some of the best points from this transcript:

Jack: "Imagine, our own son has had ghost powers all this time and has kept them a secret from us. [confused] But we love him! [turning to Maddie] I wonder why he didn't trust us enough to tell us." Jazz: "[sarcastically] Hmm, let me guess. [mimicking Jack] "Hey, Maddie, let's destroy the ghost!" [mimicking Maddie] "No, Jack, let's dissect the ghost." [mimicking Jack again] "I know, let's catch the ghost and rip it apart molecule by molecule!" [normal voice, sarcastic again] You guys are so understanding." [Jack and Maddie drop their gazes, ashamed.]

Moving onto Season 3:

"Eye for an Eye": This is more a passing mention, but Jack seems to be a little obsessed with the GIW and huge fans of their work, and you do see it some more in "Livin' Large" later on in the season as well.

"Girls' Night Out": We see Jack trying to make an effort with Danny in this episode again. I did point out in the original ask reply that Jack was obviously trying to be a good father for Danny, which definitely deserves some points. However, it is still important to point out how generally uninterested Danny was in the bonding activity. It goes back to how Maddie ignored the chance to give Danny a choice, and how dismissive they tend to be towards him. I still want to award Jack a point for looking for advice from 'Father/Son Relationships For Stupids!' but I do so half-heartedly. Their interactions in this episode definitely reek with discomfort, but considering everything that has gone down in between now and "The Million Dollar Ghost", that does make sense.

"Torrent of Terror": This is another instance of extreme lack of safety precautions- the airbags don't deploy? In the GAV??? Somewhere out there, OSHA is crying.

"Forever Phantom": Maddie and Jack show a lot of anti-Phantom rhetoric in this episode. So this tracks how uncomfortable and/or threatened Danny might feel at home. Some examples include:

Jack: "He keeps this up he's liable to make people forget he's nothing but a putrid rancid ball of self-aware protoplasm."

Maddie: "Don't be fooled sweetie. He's up to something. Remember that time he attacked the mayor? Or stole everyone's Christmas presents? Once a filthy ghost always a filthy ghost."

"Livin' Large": Something to remember, the GIW intend to fire a missile into the Ghost Zone after gaining access to the Fentons' portal. While they didn't have the password right away, it cannot be understated that the Fentons basically gave away their house in exchange for wealth. Thankfully the missile was just a fake and not a real weapon of mass destruction, but do not mistake this to mean that- had it been real- the GIW wouldn't have gone through with it. And the Fenton parents would have been just as responsible.

And that concludes our canon research for this argument! Let's wrap things up with some stats. Of the 49 episodes in the show, we have evidence in 21 episodes. That is roughly 43% of the show, and this does not include comments that Danny has made about his parents and how they treat him. Obviously, at the end of the day, human error is possible. There is always a chance that I could have missed another piece of information, or perhaps another thoughtful addition to this list. However, 43% is no laughing matter.

Yes, the Fenton parents had their shining moments, but with all the other evidence presented that overshadows those little gems, can you confidently say that they are good parents? And most of all, if you were in Danny's shoes, would you say the same thing?

It's easy to excuse this as a cartoon. When you're writing in this world, playing with these characters, that excuse instantly evaporates.

Thank you for reading, I hope you all learned something about the Fenton parents like I did.

#danny phantom #dpxdc #jack fenton #maddie fenton #fanon vs canon #character analysis #show analysis

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wonwoonlight · 1 year

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conclusion number three | jeon wonwoo

➝ Wonwoo x Reader

➝ fluff / slice of life / nonidol!au

➝ total word count: 1.4k

➝ notes, warnings: just them being cute. not proofread. wonwoo can be a lil ooc. Inspired by this post. i just love wonwoo so much, this is a wonwoo simp post. enjoy!

summary: you have a hypothesis you'd like to prove.

Wonwoo, you've come to realize, loves being complimented.

He doesn't say it out loud, doesn't do anything that screams "compliment me!", but he's not very subtle about his smile either when someone genuinely compliments him about something.

It's something that you've only noticed recently, and you're still keen on proving this hypothesis by throwing in compliments on random intervals throughout the days just to see how he'd react.

"You look very nice today." You say out of nowhere when Wonwoo is looking down at his coffee.

He blinks, a little confused, though you don't miss the shy smile he sports that's gone as quick as it appears.

"Thank you? We've been sitting here for an hour, though?" He doesn't say out loud the question of why you're only saying this now, but it's there and you shrug carelessly.

Conclusion number one: compliments about his look doesn't bring as much as a reaction from him even though it's there.

When you pass by a pretty flower wall, you ask Wonwoo to take a picture of you, something that he happily complies with and never complains about.

After taking a few shots, he proudly shows you the pictures and says that the pictures came out nicely though he can take more if there’s a certain angle you prefer. You're looking at him instead of your phone, haven't even properly looked at the pictures, but your hypothesis is more important now so you say it anyway.

"You're very good at taking pictures, aren't you?"

He tilts his head before he looks at you, then smiles before he adds nonchalantly as he scrolls through the pictures he’s just taken, making your whole face warm with his comment.

"You're just very pretty."

Conclusion number two: he can brush off compliments about his skill easily though he seems pleased either way. (Need to confirm by complimenting his other skill that can't be turned back to you. Smooth bastard.)

You stumble upon a small festival on your way to dinner. Deciding to eat there instead, you and Wonwoo make you way through the festival, looking at the stalls along the street. You swing your hand as you walk through the sea of people, a little too excited to notice you've been swinging it a little too much.

Wonwoo grabs your hand with a chuckle, and when you look at him in question, he shakes his head without offering any explanation.

Looking at your hand in his, you hum before you tighten your hold and feel Wonwoo returns the gesture.

"Your hand is very warm, I like it."

He stops in his tracks, his eyes soft as he pulls you closer to him.

"You're very cheesy today, aren't you?"

Hm. Of course he'll catch up. At least he'd never know why you're doing this.

"What? I can't compliment my boyfriend?" You try to sound nonchalant, accompanied by a shrug that Wonwoo doesn't really buy.

He doesn't prod though, because what's the use in prodding when he can just accept compliments from the person he loves? There's no reason whatsoever for him to hold it against you. So he shakes his head and you feel the soft brush of his thumb against your knuckle before he pulls you to walk again.

You stop by a crepe stall because you're craving sweets, your body swaying a little due to your excitement; you can’t remember the last time you went to a festival, probably a few years back during university, and to be here with Wonwoo of all people makes everything exciting–even waiting for an overpriced crepe because you have him by your side.

You press your lips together to stop the embarrassing squeal that’s trying to get out of your lips when the food vendor hands you your crepe, which says a lot about how enthusiastic you really are about the whole thing. Wonwoo chuckles yet again, keeps it in his mind to find more festivals to go to if you're this enticed by the thing.

Seeing an empty bench a while ago, you make your way back there in hope it’s still empty so you can eat your crepe and the takoyaki Wonwoo has just bought in peace. Thankfully, it is still empty, an old couple sits on the bench next to you and a group of three guys on the bench next to them.

Wonwoo sets the takoyaki and the bubble teas between the two of you, enjoying the festival vibe as he nibbles on a piece of takoyaki. You happily eat your crepe too, though you eye his food and wonder if it’s good. You don’t usually like takoyakis, but they seem good today and you blame it on the vibe around you.

“Want to try some?” He asks when he notices you frowning at the treat he’s holding.

Your lips purse in thoughts, and he breaths a chuckle before he pushes it in front of your lips. You take a full bite, and regret it immediately because it’s hot and you panic when your crepe almost topples from your hands.

The sound of Wonwoo’s laughter fill your ears despite the noise around you, and even though he’s laughing, his hands are already busy taking the crepe from your grip and handing you your bubble tea so you can cool the inside of your mouth down. He hands you a napkin too, something you gratefully take as you cough into the thing.

You say a bunch of incoherent things which Wonwoo guesses is just you telling him to shut up, but the way your cheeks turn completely full and you’re flailing your hands are just nothing but adorable to him that he can’t help grinning despite his worry.

When you finally manage to swallow the takoyaki (which does taste good and you would’ve appreciated had the prior incident not existed), you hit him square in the shoulder for laughing at your misery.

“Good to know my boyfriend likes seeing me suffer.” You glare.

“You know it’s not that.” He says softly, the smile never leaving his face. Before you can say anything back, he absentmindedly reaches out to wipe the corner of your lip with his thumb, then licks whatever that was there and continues with his meal.

You blink continuously, your whole face warm and you have to bite your lip from smiling too hard.

What the fuck?

It seems like something he does without even realizing, because when he notices you’ve frozen in place, he looks genuinely confused and asks what happened like he didn’t just do what he did in a very public place.

Wonwoo has never really been one for public affections though he takes care of you the same. He doesn’t mind holding hands; but that’s about it–everything else he does behind the comfort of your door.

“Hey.” He pokes your cheek. “Why are you lagging?”

“Not funny.” You look at him unimpressed before you take your crepe back in embarrassment, though that doesn’t discourage him to grin at his own little joke. “Also, nothing.”

“Ah, young love.” You hear the grandma next to you say to her spouse, something that Wonwoo seems to catch too because he shares that look with you. “Remember when you used to do that to me, too?”

The grandpa’s voice is too small for you to catch on, but what she says next gets your heart beating in an arrhythmical beat and you force yourself to lock your gaze on Wonwoo despite your embarrassment, his eyes avoiding yours, the tip of his ears blazing red, and he’s pressing his lips together so hard as if to contain a smile.

“They seem very in love, don't they? The young man takes care of the girl so well, I hope our son takes care of his wife like that too.”

“You take care of me well, huh?” You whisper, and he pretends like he doesn’t hear you regardless of the way he looks down to hide his smile that he’s no longer able to contain.

You grin at this, and you take his face in your hands so he’ll look at you. You’re a little surprised at how warm his face is, and you decide to spare him from the teasing you were originally about to do and you say another thing instead.

“You do take care of me very well; I’m glad I have you with me.”

Conclusion number three: Wonwoo loves it very much when someone compliments him on the way he is with you.

#caratwritersclub #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo au #seventeen au #seventeen scenario #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #svt au #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen

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1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt · 1 year

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Today on popping the corn and feeding the children, what do you folks think of this discussion? :)

I'm always curious to hear what other Trek fans, especially queer Trek fans, think about our place in Trek history and how we fare as the queer participants within our fandom. What have your experiences been like?

Overwhelmingly I've found a great reception and a welcoming attitude, but I admit that has increased considerably since the 90s. However, there are still some Trek fans who seem to be vehemently in denial about queer history in Star Trek, or the fact that anyone who has worked on Trek has pro-LGBT attitudes. This always surprises me considering some of the blatant queer content we have already seen in Star Trek such as the Jadzia Dax and Lenara Kahn kiss.

Anyway, I enjoyed the discussion that followed and seeing the overwhelming outpouring of support coming from Star Trek fans in response to this thread.

Here was my two cents contribution:

"No, what they said was factual.

Have you forgotten Nichelle Nichols was indeed an African American woman in the core seven bridge crew back in 1966?

Or the fact that Gene Roddenberry went out of his way to write The Motion Picture Novel, creating the term "T'hy'la: friend, brother, lover" so that fans could choose which interpretations of Kirk and Spock they saw fit? He also embraced K/S fans and hired a number of them to write the earliest Star Trek novels, including the very first official one (The New Voyages Vol. 1 & 2) which included slash fiction as well as Gene's approval/forward in the books.

In case anyone has forgotten, here's a little bit of background on Gene Roddenberry and his perspectives on queerness in Star Trek.

He admitted that in his early life he was very affected by how society and culture treated the LGBT community, and that he too found himself subjugating and judging others for that lifestyle because it was what people did at that time. As he got older and had more life experience, he began working with a number of queer artists in Hollywood -- and through TOS, a number of queer individuals began asking questions about Kirk and Spock.

Instead of vehemently shutting down this perspective, Roddenberry was intrigued, and saw potential to tap into a large audience (LGBT) that most others didn't want to go near or acknowledge publicity-wise. He saw it as an opportunity to expand the fanbase while also pushing yet another envelope.

But with the heat already on the show for what they'd already pushed, he found he was often stuck between what he'd like to do and what production would let him get away with. There are a number of Kirk and Spock scenes in scripts that got cut out for leaning a little too obviously romantic. Tiny trickles of that content still made it in were infamous moments like the backrub scene in Shore Leave. Even the 2009 movie had a K/S moment while Spock Prime and Kelvin Spock talked that was written and filmed that was cut out of the final product.

Queer subtext and coding has always been relentlessly weeded away at with an excuse ready to go for why they always try to cut us out, but we all know it's because they are scared of the homophobic backlash and ratings hits. Look how violently homophobes went after the gay romance episode of The Last of Us **just this year**. This has always been our reality, so for someone like Roddenberry to make efforts in the 70s? That was massive.

But Gene as well as the queer/slash Trek community managed to accomplish some things in the 70s which I'm surprised more folks don't talk about or give much credit.

In the same TMP novel which features "T'hy'la" and the famous footnote, Gene cleverly wrote Kirk with a bisexual/pansexual lens: Kirk describes himself as *preferring* women but being open to "physical love in **any** of its many Earthly, alien, and mixed forms." (Direct quote from Genes book). Basically, Captain Kirk was DTF with whoever if there was a connection, which was a very progressive take for a character in a novel written in 1979, but made sense for the future which would have a lot less hang ups about sex and love compared to our current rather puritan/conservative society.

I also prefer women, but I married a man. Shout out to Gene Roddenberry for giving us a seat at the table back in the 70's when folks *still* try to insist there is no place for K/S or queer concepts in Trek, because he made efforts -- however small -- to employ queer people and show queer perspectives. According to David Gerrold, LGBT+ representation was a big thing that Gene personally pushed for in TNG and wanted various depictions of love/couples in the Risa scenes, to name one example.

In the 70s, fanzines led to meetings and swapped fanmade magazines, which got so big that they needed hotel centers, then convention centers, then one day the TOS cast came to one and what we know as modern fan conventions were born -- inspiring even George Lucas who attended Trek conventions in the 70s and saw how popular Trek was in syndication; it was a great climate to launch his Space Opera. Star Wars then became so huge that we got TMP.

But none of that would have happened without the level of organization, passion, and creativity that those fans poured into Star Trek and their characters after it got cancelled and went into syndication.

Without queer folks we wouldn't have George Takei, Theodore Sturgeon who gave us Tribbles, Bill Theiss and his amazing TOS costumes, Mike Minor's art direction, Merritt Butrick, David Gerrold (writer for TOS, TAS, TNG) to name a few of many queer contributors to Trek that Roddenberry respected and tried to go to bat for wherever he could in a climate that was absolutely impossible to gain an inch in.

At a time during the 70s and 80s when so many people resented and feared the queer community and wanted us to disappear, especially in the 80s during the AIDS epidemic which many homophobes claimed was "God's punishment to the gay community" or "Gods's answer" to our "hedonism", thinking we'd gotten our just desserts and should just disappear . . .

During that time, Gene Roddenberry gave us queer folks a place to say: "You know what? Sure. Write your stories. TV says you guys shouldn't exist, they pull books with queer people off the shelves and burn them. Laws exist specifically to forbid you guys from loving each other, and call you mentally ill. You can't even hold hands in public. But I'm going to validate you guys and invite you to write novels or work for me, try to see what we can get by production, and allow you to see yourselves in my characters if you want to. There's a place for you in our fandom."

He gave us bi/pan Kirk, he gave us K/S is open to interpretation. In Phase 2 Kirk's surviving nephew Peter, son of his brother Sam from Operation: Annihilate!, was going to be written as gay and living on the Enterprise with his partner -- that also got chopped and reworked into a script that wouldn't get used until decades later. That was huge at a time that being queer was officially listed as a mental illness, and villainized due to the AIDS crisis.

So before you try to dismiss or tell K/S + queer Trek fans whether or not they deserve a seat at the table, remember that Gene Roddenberry was among the **first** to pull that seat out for us in a climate that was ruthlessly against LGBT+ folks." -- 1Shirt2ShirtRedShirtDeadShirt

P.S: Have some cute bisexual/pansexual K/S pride gifs. :) Pride month is a hop, skip and a jump away.

LLAP!🖖💚

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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

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Relationship Fluff

Simon 👻, Soap 🧼, König 👑

They realize they are getting chubby being in a happy relationship

Simon, Soap, König x GnReader

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Ghost - Comfort Meals

You and Simon had been dating for well over a year now, it had been a happy accident how you two had met. What was anquick tumble in the sheets after a drunken night you had woken up early and made breakfast for the solider much to his surprise. Truthfully it had been far too long since he had a home-cooked meal so it had been a delight to his senses and heart.

Assuming it was just a one off, Simon did agree to take your number and 'maybe' stop by if he got the need or chance.. Which ended up backfiring on him wonderfully, It took 6 months for you two to move in together, 8 months for you to see his face and Simon taking leave more often to be with you.

This was one of those times, having 3 weeks to himself to spend being pampered in your love and affection. That and the cooking- he hadn't realized how much he missed good hot meals that weren't from a bag or a mess hall, So he was practically a garbage disposal for you. Eating all the food you had to make, every treat you wiped up from a pinterest blog.

It was heaven!

He had gotten up early, like every morning and sat out on the patio taking in the morning air while reading. He did some basic chores and straightened up, knowing you preferred the kitchen area to yourself. Saying it was 'Yours' afterall.

"Honey! Breakfast is ready" You call out, Simon quick to set down his book and roll up. Knowing a nice breakfast and black coffee was waiting for him.

"Thank you Lov" He said softly and kissed your cheek as you set out both plates, pouring a cup of black coffee for himself as the plate of waffles, eggs, and bacon greeting him.

"My angel" He said and kissed your cheek lovingly as you sat next to him to tuck into the meal.

Mindless conversation taking place between you two as you guys ate, Simon getting seconds and a cup of tea for himself as well.

"Oh before I forget, Si can you go to the market to pick up some things? I was going to make cakes tonight" He nodded at the simple request, the closest market at around a 20 minute drive from your home anyway so it wasn't an issue.

"I can head out now, Get it done with" He said calmly, Standing up to take both your empty plates and cleaned them up. Always cleaning since he felt it was fair before heading upstairs to change to head into town.

Deciding that his jeans and coat would do fine started to change into that quickly, Mumbling about needing gas and.. and?..

Simon Paused- The pants felt tighter then it had before.. even if these were admittedly older pants they should have been fine not a new tightness around his admittedly full stomach.

Pulling off his shirt he took a look at his for in the bathroom mirror- while still seeing his muscular and admittedly large build however around his stomach and sides there was a new thin layer of.. Fluff? Some pudge that had defiently not been there before and just slightly dampening his abs.

"The hell?" He mumbled, look over himself. You walking into the room as well and seeing him staring at himself in the mirror.

"Something wrong?" You question, walking back to him as you see him looking at himself in the mirror.

"I've gained weight?" He questioned as he looked back at you, This surpsing you as you personally didn't see any difference.

"You look fine to me, Sexy too" You wink which earns a laugh from the man who quickly pulls you into his arms.

"While I do appreciate your support I've gained some weight. Seems I've gotten too comforble with the nice suppers and cakes" He said with a sigh, surprised he had let the comfort of food do this. You kissed his cheek gently and giggle.

"It's probably relationship weight"

"Relationship weight?" He questioned with a brow as you laugh and blush softly.

"It common for people in a comforble and happy relationship to sort of- Get comforble physically if you will" He hummed at hearing this smirking at the idea.

"Well if that is the case, I'm going to end up like the Stay Puff Marshmellowman" He said with a chuckle and kissed you.

Soap - Candy Monster

Candy- candy everywhere. That's how you two even found each other was by candy. Johnny wasn't a man huge of sweets till he met you, working as a repair specialist for the team you would fix all the toys they constantly broke- often eating on candy or giving out candy whenever any of the team members would stop by to gather their things. Johnny enjoying your clear sweet tooth always partook in your offers, which lead to hour long talks, sharing different candies from around the world and eventually dates. Who knew that just some candy could lead the Scot to the happiest time of his life-

Two years of relationship bliss which had fulfilled the Soilders life in ways he didn't know possible. While he was still in the service with you in his life, he was starting to take some steps back in order to create a distance for you to be in his life. The nice condo adding to this as well since you two had moved in together the year previously.

"The new candy bag is here!" You call out as you walk into the kitchen area seeing Johnny sipping his drink and excitedly looking to see what was brought. The monthly surprise bag of candy was your idea and truthfully he had found it genius.

"Uh let's see, some yuzu japanese white chocolate, Lucas chamoy candy, oh Cream savers! I used to love these" You say cheerfully ajd quickly open the bag- Johnny curious as well as he held out a hand which you happily handed him a few.

Johnny unraveled the strawberry sweet and put it to his lips as normal. Used to the constant wave of new confectionery that you passed to him, humming as he tasted the waves of strawberry and cream that filled his senses.

"Oh these are good- a little odd?" He hummed as he bit through the hard treat making your face scrunch up.

"Impacient as always" You muse as he crunched through the hard candy with a grin.

"Just like to get to the good part" He winked taking a few more candies into his mouth as you giggle at his reaction.

"Still ready for dinner tonight?" Johnny questioned, a gleam in his eyes as he watched your enthusiasm at it.

"Yeah- Also the show is on tonight" You remind him earning a knowing smile from the man, His eyes drifting to his phone to check the time which prompted you to do the same.

"Oh the shows almost on! Wanna watch it then head to dinner?" You said cheerfully, always watching to catch your favorite TV show before leaving anywere. Johnny of course agreeing before he headed upstairs to get a head start on changing.

"I'll be right down!" He called out, having a outfit in mind already as he reached for his 'sexy jeans' and a nice botton up.

Johnny huffed as he jumped up and down to get the jeans over his body. Stopping as he looked, sure they must have shrunk in the wash or- thays when he looked again.. noticing the thickening of his thighs and admittedly his ass.

He stared for a moment at the jeans before breaking out in a laugh. Grabbing some sweats instead as he headed back down to you with a smirk.

"You Husband weight me Darlin" He said with a almost proud smirk, you raising a brow at this.

"Husband weight?" You question, Watching him slap his plushed hip with a laugh.

"You are fattenin me up like I were ya husband" He said calmly as he plopped next to you, pulling you into his lap.

"I hope that's not a bad thing" You giggle, assuming he enjoyed it.

"It means ya make me happy darling" He said with a laugh before kissing your cheeks and leaned back to enjoy the show, well hidden in his sweatpant pockets a velvet box laid.

König - Taste Tester

Now most would find it cliché that a soldier ended up with a medic- and König would have no issue telling them to mind their own. You had saved his life, and gained his heart in one swoop.

After a rather nasty battle he had been rushed to the nearest Army Hospital were you had been, saving him from the brink of death and respected his boundaries. You two spending hours just talking about books, shows and different foods you had tasted while in the military- Both of you being quite the foodies.

It had been a long time to build trust between each other, however it had been worth it to say the least. After several years of a slow and steady relationship it had become clear you two would be permanent in each other's lives, moving in together and creating a routine for each others wants and needs.

It was a rare moment but both of you were on leave at the same time, having a nice long break from the hard demands of your guys jobs. König was sitting at the dining room table finishing a Lego set, this time being the Van Gogh one, a hobby he had taken up to help him relax and focus.

"Hey Love, How does this taste?" You question and hand him a spoon of something which he eats without question. His eyes lighting up as he nodded- Fried rice, some form of gravy or curry, and nice soft eggs.

"Ja, gut Schatz! (Its food Love), What is it?" He questioned as he hands back the cleaned spoon and you give him another spoonful which he inhails.

"It's Omurice, I found the recipe and wanted to give it a go. I don't know if I got the egg constancy right but I'm more concerned about taste" You shrug truthfully König clearly agreeing as he turned to look if you had anymore- this drawing a laugh from you as you make him a fat plate which he accepts happily.

"Danke" He says quickly before tucking into the large plate, happily chatting away setting his lego project further on the table so it didn't get disturbed. You only pausing the conversation to point to the larger males shirt which had a large stain on it.

"You got sauce on your shirt love" You say with a giggle, the Austrian make looking down and sighing softly. Giving a quick curse as he stood up to change his shirt.

Heading upstairs he took off his shirt and went to grab another when he paused and looked at himself in the mirror-

Now König knew he was a big guy- that was no surprise however he was defiently noticing he was becoming a bigger guy. Mainly his shirts didn't fit the same around his stomach and sides region but he hadnt really noticed till now, Looking himself over he saw a nice thin layer of plush over his whole form.

He blushed at this, realizing he may have been getting way more comforble then he realized. Remembering his mother telling him that once a person finds themselves in a life long relationship they can get bigger due to being comforble.

Had he truly gotten that comforble? He thought back to the days they would spend together, how he found everything that you did to be adorable and you had just become a part of his life. His heart fluttering at the thought as his need for a new shirt was forgotten and be stepped out of the room.

He walked back down, shirtless still in deep thought as he held his stained garmet. You raised a brow at seeing him so out of it and holding the shirt, Stepping forward you gently touch his hand to gently bring him back to you.

"König? Love you okay?" You question as he finally comes back to reality and blinks at you. Like he was seeing you for the first time all over again.

"König?.." You question again but he leans down and instead captures your lips in a deep kiss. A blush forming over both of your cheeks at the suddently passionate kiss, he pulled away after a moment after the need for air won out. After a moment of catching your breaths he stared you in the eyes.

"Let's go to the Juwelier (Jewlery Store) Tommorow Liebling~" He said with a shy smile and hands on your hips, A new sparkle in his eyes.

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icypopz · 5 months

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caught in 4k ♡

↬ request from anon ; I love your writing for blue lock and i was wondering if you could write a Rin x actress reader when they're adults and they get caught by the media somehow. ↬ notes ; itoshi rin x gn reader ↬ from ice ; pretends like i haven't been gone for months... anyways here's my grand comeback that literally no one asked for but this req was so cute i rlly wanted to write it 🥹 hope u enjoy ! ↬ warning(s) ; none

please reblog w comments ! it helps a lot :)

itoshi rin has always been a private person. he rarely shares anecdotes from his life with his friends, let alone the paparazzi. his fans constantly complain that they're starved for content, because despite the fact that he's one of the most famous football players in the world, he somehow manages to keep his schedule entirely under wraps and often downright refuses to do interviews. (the only way to get him on camera is to invite him for a joint interview with sae.)

his tendency to keep his personal life a secret is exactly why it comes as such a shock when it's revealed that he's dating you.

actually, 'revealed' is the wrong word to use when in reality, the both of you were spotted leaving a popular restaurant together by a pesky journalist. he snapped pictures of rin holding your hand, offering you his jacket, opening the car door for you... and the next morning they were all over the internet, splashed across the front page of all the major news websites. #itoshi rin is in a relationship?! was the number one trending topic for days.

the amount of attention showered upon the two of you is actually unsurprising, considering how you've been at the peak of fame ever since you recently took on a role that went viral. pair that with the fact that you're dating the most mysterious football player? it's a miracle they didn't hear about it in space! both your fanbases were gushing about how adorable you are together and they're always eager for crumbs of interaction between you two in public.

in private, rin groans and grumbles about how annoying it is to have a spotlight shining on your dating life, but he's secretly happy that you both don't have to hide your relationship anymore now that it's out in the open. he likes the idea that everyone knows he's yours, and you're his.

in public, he's as aloof and cold as ever to every enthusiastic interviewer that dares cross his path. the only time he visibly softens is when they mention you, and a hint of a smile will curve his lips. rin gets angry if they even imply that you're leeching off his fame, or you're a gold-digger, or you're trying to get close to his brother through him - he never fails to set the record straight immediately. the two of you love each other, and maybe these journalists' time would be better spent trying to find someone to love them instead of trying to ruin someone else's relationship. (his pr manager is at her wits' end).

overall, rin is not too bothered by the fact that your relationship ended up becoming public knowledge. of course he would have preferred it to be on both of your terms, but now that it's happened he just rolls with it. as long as you're happy, he's happy.

help i swear i'll be active now HAHAHA i won't disappear for a year again ,,, and btw i cannot believe my last post was over a year ago tf

✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠 © icypopz 2023. do not repost or modify in any way.

#[ my writing — ! ]#[ blue lock — ! ]#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin #blue lock

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xo2dee · 4 months

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𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬

𝐣𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

❦ Pairing: Nanami Kento x (Fem)Reader

❦ Warnings: MDNI/18+ only. oral sex (fem receiving), vaginal fingering, edging (fem receiving), dirty talk, vaginal sex, rough sex, orgasm delay/denial, light bondage, unprotected sex, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, creampie

❦ Word Count: 6051

❦ Summary: Jingle all the way.

❦ A/N: i wrote this two years ago around christmas time and have revised it like twice, so it's only fair i share this one here first given how it's still in season

❦ twitter - ao3

In retrospect, you hadn’t thought you would gander the attention you had gotten from him. At least, not so soon.

(But it wasn't like you didn't always have his attention anyway.)

Nanami Kento was an exceedingly busy man, and returning to his job as a Jujutsu Sorcerer was almost just as busy as his time spent as a salaryman; albeit he did admit to you that perhaps it was less stressful, but he still had his headaches whenever Gojo Satoru decided to pester him with annoying antics to tell him about an investigation rather than just telling him straight up (he had been subjected to more than enough crude drawings of the male and female reproductive anatomy to speak for that accusation). And because of that, it was increasingly hard for you and him to ever spend time together since he always seemed to work well into overtime no matter how times he grouched about how much he hated it.

Dates were often hard to come by with him, but alas, it was like they said it being a ‘Christmas Miracle’ whenever a seemingly extremely happy and yearned for event happened in the month of December that Kento found some time off for the holidays even if it wasn’t necessarily celebrated as much. Because of that, you were able to enjoy more time with him and take time decorating for the corresponding holiday later in the month as well as plan a nice dinner night with him since you two really hadn’t sat down and enjoyed each other’s company like that in a long while.

You two also hadn’t had sex in a while. And perhaps that was why when Kento had asked you if you were going out to buy stockings to hang above the fireplace, you bought another more suggestive type of stockings as well.

Maybe it was the pent-up sexual frustration from that feeling of not touching each other like that in so long that got him so riled up, but fuck, from the way he eyed you as you stepped out in it for what was supposed to be a somewhat formal dinner between you two in your shared apartment…

You patted yourself on the back for buying the number because as much as you liked it, so did he.

Dinner with Kento at a restaurant or not was always a gracious occasion, he was composed and polite in matters of enjoying a fine cuisine with you and treasured that time he got with you. You liked the domesticity of it as you two chatted over glasses of burgundy wine, watching the glinting of your silverware in the light as you bit into your meal, and overall, just enjoyed his presence because it was hard to come by to get him like that.

You often told him you preferred his cooking over going out to eat, knowing from experience that he personally made the food just right whenever you were eating it. He had been taking his time in baking as well, the cake of your favorite flavor with strawberries on top he had made sitting on the counter in your kitchen for the romantic occasion something you had been looking forward to trying as well when you told him you were ready for dessert.

Honestly you had meant the cake as a dessert, but Kento was dead set on indulging himself in another type of dessert beforehand. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint where and when he finally snapped, you knew he was already teetering on a fine line to keep a strong hold onto his will whenever you first walked out in the little Christmas Elf ensemble.

The outfit itself was probably enough to nearly make him combust; the Christmas green, velvet, negligee combined with a jagged, jingle-bell trim that barely covered your ass and the plunging neckline that had your breasts pushed up and ready to pop out of the top of it had his dark eyes homing in on the parts of your flesh exposed. Your hat was something you hadn’t thought to really keep on since it was already in the floor next to dinner table, but you were beginning to think that perhaps his favorite part of the outfit was the thigh-high stockings lining up your legs and your red thong that matched the color of his tie for the night.

(Of course, he had matching ties for the holidays, it was just so him.)

The stocking themselves were green and white-striped topped off with their own little jingle-bell positioned neatly into the middle of your thighs, that which with every moment you made, they jingled. You had noticed his eyes mainly gravitate down towards there, mouth thinning and a vein throbbing in his temple with each step you made in them walking towards him in those damn fuzzy little kitten heels he had bought you that one time. Kento wasn’t so discreet in pulling his collar away from his neck and tugging at his tie as you both sat down to eat in an action of frustration and probable horniness, and he wasn’t so discreet with the rough tone his voice held every time he tried to engage in any conversation with you.

You knew that you would get fucked after dinner anyway considering the dilated, alluring gaze he was throwing at you from underneath his eyelashes that you normally got whenever he was in the mood, but you being you wanted to indulge in your own fun to see how far you could push him.

After all, it had been so long since you two touched each other so intimately.

Like you had been thinking beforehand, you weren’t too sure where and when Kento decided to say fuck it and bend you over the table, but you had some possible guesses. Perhaps when you licked a slow stripe on your fork with a sighing moan talking about how good it tasted. Or maybe when you purposefully kept pushing your arms together to let your tits strain against the bra that your nipples were about to spill out of for his view, talking about how tight the outfit was. Though if you really had to pick one of the guesses, it was when both of you had finished the actual dinner and then you sighed about how you wanted to be stuffed full right as you ate that dessert.

That really was the last thing you had really said to each other, the only thing coming out his mouth after had been a curse and some concealed grunts while you on the other hand were alternating with filthy praises and moans mixed with whines while Kento had his own dessert.

At that moment in time, you were bent over the dining table, hands clutching onto the tablecloth in tight fists and your chest squished into the hard surface with one leg Kento had hoisted up onto the table in a harsh grip on your thigh. Your other leg was balancing up on your tiptoes while your lover had fallen onto his knees after all but tearing your thong off and throwing it onto the table just above your head and used his other hand to spread the ass cheek of your leg that wasn’t on the table to bury his face nose-deep into your pussy.

You had already been getting wet with your own teasing, but Kento’s tongue was fast to let you start nearly dripping onto the floor and the tablecloth while delivering slow, fat licks with the base of his tongue up the entirety of your wet folds. His fingers dug into your ass of what he could with a squeeze, his hot breath and grunts vibrating through the opening of your cunt whenever you wiggled from a particular stimulated swipe of his tongue and moaned into the tablecloth.

Trying to sit up on your elbows to look back at him he was quick to force you back down with a hand placed onto your lower back, a slap to your ass afterwards for trying to move your pussy away for his ‘meal’. You whined and scratched at tablecloth that was nearly falling off the dinner table in a fashion Kento would’ve normally sighed at and pinched the bridge of his nose for, wriggling your hips harder against his nose for him to stop with the torturous licking and to just really devour your cunt like a man starved.

“Kento, please, go faster,” you huffed against the cloth, cheeks as hot as the temperature of the room. The fireplace in the living room had been lit to help set the romantic mood and to help fight the cold weather freezing the windows, and above the fireplace was the two cute stockings you had bought for the both of you. You watched the fire flicker in a drunk-like state, almost reminiscent of the hot sensation behind your naval growing every time your lover let the tip of his tongue jab at your clit. Everything was so hot, and you felt so warm.

Kento delivered another smack to your ass cheek, no doubt the skin beginning to redden from the repeated hits he had been giving you since he bent you over the damn table and started eating your pussy like it was his last meal. You moaned again as the sting morphed and grew alongside of your heightened pleasure, but you knew the slap was his own way of saying he wanted to hear something better than that.

You arched your back to deliberately rock your hips back into his face, his tongue sliding faster up your slit as he turned to slurping and sucking around the area with a groan from your eagerness, “Just… I wanna feel it, I wanna cum on your tongue and your face, please.”

That rewarded you a louder groan that vibrated your pussy again, his hand on your thigh holding you up moving to grasp your hip as the other grabbed the thigh of your leg desperately trying to remain on the ground to spread it wider for his liking. Once you were situated like he wanted, he changed his course of action: that hand holding your thigh disappeared to let two fingers begin a slow, rotating rub onto your clit, and his face delved deeper into your cunt with the tip of his tongue wiggling around until he had your lips spread open far enough to push the organ inside of you some. All the while the hand on your hip coasted you back and forth, encouraging you to rock back and grind against his face as he continued eating you out.

Your reaction was instantaneous; a keening, louder moan past through your lips as your eyes slightly rolled whenever his tongue made quick work to map out the inside of your dripping cunt. You eagerly followed his instruction of rolling your hips every time he swiped up the inside of you, coating your insides with his own saliva and at the same time greedily letting your fluids soak up into his taste buds.

God, Kento was one of the best pussy eaters you had ever had the pleasure coming of across, and it really doubled down onto that fact since he always wanted to indulge in it every time you two had sex.

“God, Kento, your mouth…” you broke off into whimper whenever he picked up the speed of rubbing your clit, switching from the circles to a steady back and forth, pressing down every time he repeated the process. You pressed your forehead into the table below you, almost wanting to just shred the white cloth from how fucking good it felt each time you rolled back onto his tongue and whenever he curled the tip of his tongue to lick up a side of you while pressing harder onto your clit, and ohfuckinghell –

Kento groaned again and his fingers flexed harder on your hip whenever you started to clench and unclench around his slick, hot tongue, his lips pressing over the lower parts of your pussy in a kiss to lap up any escaping fluids that his tongue wasn’t able to catch. The appendage felt insane, and you didn’t know how he managed to do it, but every time you two got to fucking he made it better each time around.

“S-Shit, just like that, please. Fuck, I’m so close,” you whimpered again as you dug your face harder into the tablecloth to fight back a horribly loud, pornographic moan. He answered back by smacking off your cunt and sliding his tongue out of you to give you another slow, almost lazy lick on the outer parts of you, deliberately teasing at your clit in a quick jab before he was diving back in with a hot exhale to put his tongue back in your warm pussy.

You bit into the cloth at that, eyes shutting in a squeeze as the coil behind lathering up in your lower abdomen pushed harder against you. Your brain had blocked out everything that wasn’t him, just giving all focus of letting your hips swing back and forth from his face and letting your cunt constrict and press around his tongue to get a feel of the greedy organ swirling around inside of you to feel every curl and swipe it made against your insides. Your back arched further inwards and your toes curled as well; the all-telling sign you were so fucking close to cumming.

God, you wanted it so bad.

The leg on the ground started to shake as Kento picked up his darts and jabs against your soft cunt and his fingers started move more rapidly on your clit. You were getting desperate then after that, his tongue-fucking making you rock back eagerly like you were fucking back on his dick those so many times he had you face down into your mattress. His fingers digging into your hip only added to the intensity behind abdomen and growing in your pussy that was rapidly approaching each time he groaned sending a vibration up all the towards your clit and cervix alike, your pleas getting jumbled together in praises and just broken whines of his name.

“Please, fuck –” you squealed when he hummed and pinched your clit – “Kento, it feels so good, I’m gonna cum, keep going…” your back arched hard whenever he slapped your ass again, nails really starting to rip into the tablecloth when his tongue slithered up out of you and he decided to let the slick organ join the movement on your clit.

However when he closed his lips around your swollen clit and sucked, you jerked hard with your cunt beginning to spasm as you were on the cusp of finally cumming all over his fucking face and he just needed to keep sucking and groaning while he did it as you continued to fuck back into his face and you were so close, just right there, right there, right there, fuck –

When the all-telling loud whine of his name finally left your lips that he fucking knew meant you were about to cum, he abruptly backed off of you, taking his tongue, his mouth and his fingers altogether and leaving you edged up and your cunt leaking from all the fluids of his saliva and yours combined. A groan left you and you banged your forehead onto the table whenever you felt his presence leave your entire body for a few moments, leaving your pussy gaping open and your hips still desperately rocking for any type of friction to let you cum.

He was in that mood.

Well… it was too be expected when you had really set him over the edge that time.

“Kento –” you started off, but quickly his name trailed off into a squeal whenever he gripped both your hips and flipped you back over upwards to face him, letting you get the full, hazy sight of him already jerking his tie out of its knot rather aggressively and throwing it onto the table next to you. He didn’t waste any time after doing that, the clanking of his belt coming undone as he only undid his pants far enough to pull his hard cock out and let it sit snugly on your clit as he slowly began to rock onto it.

Your toes curled again as he pulled you down lower onto the table, hooking your legs over his hips as you watched his flushed face follow the movements of his dick rubbing up on your clit until you started squirming and bucking up towards him in a wordless beg to just fuck you. Your orgasm was well gone by then, the throbbing of your clit and his grinding slowly picking it back up until he decided he had enough of your little wriggling around and just wanted to be inside of you once and for all.

Kento surprisingly didn’t take it slow then, his cockhead lining up with your opening for a few seconds until he was pushing his hips forward into one good thrust and bottoming out inside of you. You always gasped every time he got inside of you, the girth of him enough to knock the breath out of you and make you grip onto his forearms. He did the same too, a long shuddering exhale leaving his glistening lips covered in your fluids as his hands moved to grip onto the tablecloth beside of your head and he started to shallowly thrust into you.

“I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you,” he grunted out, sounding just as out of breathe as you felt, “You’re always so wet, so easy for me to just slip in… It’s been so long, I almost want to just take this slow and savor every way you moan and the way you feel right now gripping me,” his hips started to move faster, your body beginning bounce each time he slid out far enough and pushed back in.

His talking and voice alone had you clenching around him, ready to just fucking gush on his cock if he so much as asked. However, your interest was piqued by his explanation of ‘almost wanting to go slow’, eagerly looking up at him through your lidded eyes with your sighing lips as your hands left his arms to tug at the buttons of his shirt.

Once you got his shirt done and the view of his muscled body in sight, he spoke again with a rougher, sharp edge in his tone, “You remember what you said earlier?”

“Mmm." He was picking up his pace, the bells on your negligee and your stockings beginning to jingle each time your body slid up and back down on the dinner table, “What’d I say?” you breathily asked, hands hungrily running down the planes of his sculpted abdomen.

“You said you wanted to be ‘stuffed full’ of the dessert I made,” he groaned out whenever you pinched a nipple, one of his hands curling long fingers around your wrists as the other made way for his tie next you. He made quick work wrapping the fabric of it around your wrists, not tight enough to cut your circulation off, but tight enough to keep your hands secured, and topped it off with its own little bow as he pushed your tied-up hands in-between your cleavage.

Almost like you were his present.

“Behave,” he warned when you snickered, and afterwards letting his fingers tugging the straps of your negligee down onto your upper arms before returning his hands to fist at the tablecloth next to your ribs. “As I was saying, you said you wanted to be stuffed full,” his hips were picking speed up again, the sound of your clothing jingling louder and the cold steel of his belt clanking and pressing against your skin adding to the noise in the room. “Tell me, did you mean you wanted to be stuffed full of my cock or stuffed full of my cum?”

The words sent a frenzy into your brain that shot down your spine and tingled into your clit, your thighs squeezing around his hips in tune to how your pussy squeezed over his dick each time it rolled back inside of you. Your fingers curled and your joints popped as you craved to grab onto something, pants slipping out of your mouth as you tried to answer him, “I – mmm, I want, fuck –”

A slap landed onto the side of your thigh, “Tell me… I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

God, every time he talked to you like that your pussy was already drenching and ready to just beg him for whatever. The words alone had you moaning again as you heard the table below you two start to creak and the wine glasses beginning to shake in tune with his thrusting. Your head rolled back as you shut your eyes, the building pressure in your abdomen already weighing you back down as the babbling was already falling off your lips for affirmation to get him to actually finally fuck you.

“Both! Please just fuck me until I’m full of cum. IwantitsobadpleaseKentoplease!”

You got what you wanted at least.

At first, he groaned at your whines with his fingers ripping the tablecloth at how you sounded, your moans for him the sweetest and the most tempting sounds in the world to him as they sent chills through his body just from how he and he alone was blessed to hear them. After that, he very nearly lethargically pulled his cock out until his swollen and reddened cockhead skimmed your folds in a kiss, and then it was whole other side of him you were so goddamn happy to see when he snapped back into your cunt and set himself off with a devastating pace.

Your back instantly arched once you were thrown into the haven of ecstasy that was him ferociously fucking you, a choked out moan from his tenaciousness as your body really began to bounce and slide onto the dinner table.

Fuck, you loved pushing his buttons.

The table then was really creaking, the glasses above you two tipping back and forth with each jab of his cock he sent pressed into the deepest part of your pussy and the wine bottle almost rolling off into the floor if his fast reflexes hadn’t caught it and placed it into the chair behind him. The other noises you were able to hear were your own moans and pants all jumbled sorts of his name, and his own grunting and groaning low in his chest combined with the obscene sound of your pussy getting smacked into every time he pulled out far enough and dove back in with hard snaps.

But there was another noise that you would’ve laughed at if you weren’t currently getting the shit fucked out of you by your lover, who had not once felt the touch of your pussy in what seemed to be months.

The little bells on your stockings and at the bottom of your negligee that had been pushed up past your hips were tinkling so loud and so in a tune, it nearly sounded like it was being played by an orchestra entirely made up of sleigh bells. You had half a mind to think it nearly could be paired with the knocking of the table to add in the effect of hooves signaling the sign of reindeer arriving, but you were so caught up with focusing on how fucking good Kento felt you only thought about it for brief moments.

His cock deep diving into your cunt was gut-curling and left you gasping out each time he found home inside of you so bad that it started to line up with how your words came out of you. You were mesmerized by his face as always; red and his forehead sweaty enough to let tendrils of his blonde locks curl onto the surface of while his dark brows were scrunched into a furrow and at times, he bit his lip to keep himself from moaning louder than you. At other times you knew he liked to watch your face; his brown eyes heavily dilated and boring into your own to watch every expression you made to commit it to his memory, however then…

His eyes were acutely focused on watching his cock leave you as your cunt twitched and gaped open awaiting his return, and watching it so easily enter you again and how your pussy would stretch to accommodate his size and it was a perfect fit –

Kento’s nostrils flared as another harsh exhale left him, his strokes picking up a fraction letting you know that he was getting close rather quickly. You couldn’t blame him, it had been so long and you were ready to cum all over him as well.

Your back knocking into the table had your tits bouncing out of your built-in bra, the gasping sounds of your words bringing his eyes back to your own as you spoke with each harsh thrust, “You haven’t – been – like this – in a while – God – last time – you were like – this – it was the – first – time I let you – cum inside of me – oh fuck.”

Kento eyes narrowed into your own before they briefly dropped to watch your breasts bounce with each thrust, your hardened nipples catching his attention as he reached up and tweaked one. You squealed and wiggled your hips, but he didn’t let up as he leant down closer and the upwards angle of his cock inside of you had your eyes crossing while his mouth found your ear. His gravelly voice sent a new wave shivers down your spine, “Need I remind you that you begged for it? You whined and cried about how much you wanted me to finally ‘fuck you’ and let you feel me cum in you. How shameful you are begging to be filled like that, but I can’t say I’m surprised since you beg me for it every time.”

At the angle he was at practically lying on top of you it allowed you to scratch at his chest, another round of fiery words coming out in response to his hypocriticalness that he was the one telling you that he’d cum inside of you so much that it was incredible you hadn’t gotten pregnant, “You love it – you love – fucking me full – don’t you? You love – the idea of me – being at risk – and you do it – mmm – every single time.”

That got you a hoarse groan, Kento leaning back far away from you with a grunt and aggressively tearing off his blazer to throw into the floor where you little hat laid as well. Something about his eyes changed, his shoulders hunching forward as his hands slid down past your hips and over your thighs until he was twirling three fingers around the top of your stockings. His strokes had stopped and you had a moment of clarity not having the breath fucked out of you until he started back up again. Though that time –

Shitshitshitshitshit.

Kento had taken upon himself to use the leverage he had on your stockings to pull your body to fuck into him. The pace wasn’t as fast and desperate beforehand, but it was deep and with the hard meaning behind it thick with ferocity of what he wanted to do to you.

But really it was what you both wanted.

“Ohhhholyshit, fuck I’m gonna cum,” you wailed out throwing your head back again with a gaping mouth, legs tightening of what they could as they began to shake around his hips. There had been few times you genuinely felt like Kento was guts-deep into you, aside from always being balls deep in your pussy, and that moment as you bounced and nearly hiccupped with every tug at your thighs to let your sopping insides completely engulf his cock, you truly felt like he was in your stomach. Your cunt then was pulsing, clenching and unclenching as best as it could to all but engrave each vein and groove on his cock to the walls of you, the new pace and angle crossing and rolling your eyes back as you started to slip back down into your orgasm once more.

However, he wasn’t about to let you off for your little backtalk.

“Don’t be so coy, you like it as much as I do whenever you feel me cum inside of you,” his hold tightened as you heard parts of your stockings rip from his behavior and he began to slowly fuck back into you, meeting you thrust for thrust, “You – want – to tell me – what it is? What is it you want done to you so badly?”

Your head rolled, your pussy growing wetter and impossibly tighter at each word he groaned at you. The coil behind your naval was too hard to ignore, your mind desperately clawing to reach for it, to finally feel that sweet sense of relief, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to have it unless you told him what you wanted. He knew you were about cum, he could feel it with each stroke that you constricted around and each pant that grew louder and louder when you bucked your hips up to meet him.

You indulged him. “I want you to cum inside of me –”

Your stockings ripped more, a bell on one flying off to jingle as it rolled onto the floor. “That’s not what I want to hear.”

Everything was hot; him, his cock, you. “Fuck, just… stuff me full of your cum like I said wanted you to!”

“Tempting,” he grunted out and you watched him flick the one little bell on your stocking still, the others still jingling as the table slid in tune with his pulling, “but you can do better than that.”

You were getting frustrated; you had been denied cumming once, and with the throbbing of your clit and the ‘itch you couldn’t scratch’ feeling, you were very nearly ready to fuck into him and cum before you told him anything. However, it was the pulsing of his hot cock inside of you with each dive back into you and the edge his octave took when he spoke to you that stopped from doing so; he was close. He was close and wanted to hear what you were going to say to let himself get off and you knew he knew that him alone cumming was enough make you cum too. The feeling of his warm cum spurting out along your walls and keeping it inside of you feeling so good it made you insatiable, and you wanted so much more.

Kento’s tip was brushing against that one sensitive spot again, the area not unknown to him since he loved to fuck up into you there to have you crying and babbling for him. Your eyes rolled back a fraction and your toes curled while your nerves lit up as you grew so fucking close, the muscles in your body tensing and the awareness in your brain turning foggy while the pressure in your cunt grew tenfold and you started squeezing desperately around him. With his heavy breaths and harsh groans, you knew was getting at his limit; he was getting closer.

But you wanted it, you wanted it so damn bad that you regained a bit of clarity for a brief moment to really push at his resolve. You blinked and rolled your eyes back to him, finding his own dark eyes already watching you, then narrowing inwards as you let a lewd grin light up your face.

“It’s called breeding.”

His grip tightened.

“You have a breeding kink.”

His pace quickened; harder and faster, and you locked your ankles at his back.

“I want you to breed me, Kento.”

His nostrils flared and a hissing exhale left him, hands slamming down onto the table in favor of just fucking hard into you instead.

“C’mon, breed me.”

A long, winding groan left him as his fingers found your clit again with a deliberate rub, the rest of your plea coming off in a high-pitched whine as you starting cumming the moment you said it.

“Fuck a baby into me, Kento!”

You got the satisfaction for a brief second to watch his eyes roll back at the last words before your head lulled back from the harsh release of your orgasm. You shut your eyes as your vision had busted into shades of all colors and strong release of endorphins flooded both sides of your brain, your hips sporadically trying to grind and buck to keep up with his still thrusting body as he fucked you through and you tried to ride through it. It was useless though, the lock you had around his back breaking with your shaking legs and your trembling cunt squeezing around him to desperately keep him inside of you. Your chest heaved with the harsh breaths as you began to jerk and try to find your way back to lucidity, but you weren’t so lucky whenever you moaned aloud again when you felt him cum.

His last thrust was a harsh jab he combined with a thigh-clenching groan that slid the table and you up inches before you sighed longingly as you felt the familiar warmth of his cum spurting out inside of you. You got your wish of getting stuffed full as well, his cum almost seemingly never-ending as each sudden stab of his hips in you had another stream of it filling up your pussy. The new heat in you had you sighing once more in contentment as you felt it slowly slide down through you and pass into your womb, not doubt him fulfilling that possible useless wish of wanting him to fuck a baby into you. Kento’s thrusts finally came to still as he sat inside of you to keep any of his cum from leaking out your still convulsing cunt, only leaving you as both of your breaths finally settled into a steadier rate.

You could feel it slowly begin to slide out of your gaping hole after he carefully pulled out, almost literally feeling your body deflate and trying to push itself back into place as his cock left you in the process. But ever the man not to want to make a ‘mess’, Kento brushed the tip of himself alongside your folds to catch the cum that oozed out of you. You whimpered and gasped whenever you felt him push what had escaped you back into your sensitive pussy, a slow roll of his hips fucking his cum back into you to make sure it stayed there.

“I’m only keeping my word,” he huffed out, keeping himself busy for the moment with slow, mouthwatering rocks of his own sensitive body part to make sure you were stuffed full of his cum like you and he both wanted.

It was only a few moments of that before he stopped his rocking and he was freeing your hands of the bondage he placed on you, lifting your wrists to deliver two kisses to them until you lazily slid an arm around his neck and locked your ankles around his back again keep him snugly inside of you and to pull him on top of you again for a slow kiss.

It was a lot more sensual and chaste compared to your previous activities, all sighs and mingling breath tasting of sweet wine before you broke off and kissed at his cheek, “Thanks for the dessert.”

Kento snorted at your choice of words, wrapping his arms around your back and burying his face into your shoulder, “…We made a mess.”

“You’re telling me.”

“And I have to buy a new tablecloth.”

“And new stockings, you ripped both of them.”

“I’ll buy you the same pair –”

His hand slid down to flick at the one bell still attached to you and you giggled at his corniness whenever he whispered his next words into your ear.

"– because I like the way they jingled when I fucked you.”

#nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x y/n #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kasien #nanami kento x you #source: animatedglittergraphics-n-more

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theemissuniverse · 7 months

Text

HOW JEALOUS OR POSSESSIVE IS HE WITH FEM!READER? JOHNNY CAGE EDITION

SUMMARY : Title kinda speaks for itself

A/N: Couldn’t help but think about this random headcanon for Johnny after I saw someone write him the complete opposite of what I’m about to say lmao

WARNINGS : (MDNI)! Mentions of sex

MASTERLIST

Johnny is definitely not a jealous or possessive boyfriend. He is too full of himself to even believe that you, his girlfriend, would ever leave him for another person.

He’s very secure in his relationship. He’s also not one of those boyfriends that are like “you can’t wear that in public.” Johnny most definitely wants you to wear the hottest clothes so he can show off how hot you really are.

He loves it when people stare at you. Loves it. He knows you’re hot and he’s not gonna “punish” you just because other people find you hot.

Johnny loves this because he knows they cannot have you. Sometimes he’ll be a little petty and kiss all over you while flipping whoever is staring at you off. But he would never get pissed over it.

If a guy were to ever flirt with you, Johnny would be extremely amused. Especially if the guy did it in front of him. In fact, Johnny would simply cross his arms and take a step back and let you two “talk” knowing what you would do/say.

Most likely, Johnny will be like, “Yeah, (Y/N). Go ahead and give him your number.” You’ll listen to him but what the guy doesn’t know is that you’re actually giving Johnny’s number. Not your number. Then later when the guy texts Johnny expecting it to be you, Johnny will send him a bunch of laughing emojis and a semi explicit picture of the two of you before blocking him.

But if a girl were to flirt with you, Johnny is definitely encouraging it. (To be very clear, I cannot stand guys that do that but I’m making this as realistic to the character as I possibly can and let’s be honest, Johnny would definitely find the idea with you being with another woman hot.) You’ll roll your eyes slightly at Johnny encouraging it and inform the woman that he is actually your boyfriend which Johnny will just say, “don’t let your boyfriend stop you from finding your future wife.”

If anything, I believe you could have intimacy with other women and Johnny couldn’t care less. (Again as I bisexual woman I find men doing that stupid but like I said, making this as realistic as possible.) Johnny is also not stupid though. He would never ask you in a million years to have a threesome. He likes living.

Johnny is not “keeping tabs” on you. He’s not stalking you and doesn’t need to be breathing on your neck. All he wants from you is to tell him where you’re going and for you to check in every hour so he knows that you’re okay. Other than that, he encourages you to do whatever you please.

He does not care in the slightest of you having “guy friends.” As long as they are obviously not douchebags and try to hit on you. He will admit, he’d much prefer you having the same guy friends that he has but as long as your guy friends are being respectful of boundaries then he’s not really getting upset over it.

One thing he’d probably get mad at is if one of your guy friends out does him. For example, say Johnny buys you a gift that’s expensive but not too crazy and then your guy friend buys you something crazy out of this world expensive. Yeah, Johnny’s gonna pout like a child.

It’s mainly because gifts are his love language so he’ll definitely hate that someone got the upper hand on that.

Johnny doesn’t go through your phone to try and find something. He trusts you. He also doesn’t even believe your phone is that interesting to go through anyway.

All in all, Johnny trusts you and is not bothered by feelings of “jealousy.” Like I said, he’s too full of himself to believe you’d leave all that “greatness” for someone else that’s most likely “mid.”

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 #mk #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mortal kombat game #mk1 x reader #mk x reader

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trashpandato · 8 months

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Romance

Earth customs are weird.

Kara knows this; has known it for many years. And sure, she’s spent all those years trying to learn, trying to understand what makes humans tick so she could mimic it successfully enough to not stand out.

“Fake it til you make it”, Alex used to say, implying that if Kara spent enough time pretending, human behaviour would eventually become second nature to her.

And fake it she did. Some Earth customs were easy enough to adopt. Like wide smiles that cover up her pain, the concept of comfort foods or all-you-can-eat buffets, or even humans’ tendency to find excuses to turn any random day into some kind of celebration - Hump Day, Tax Deadline Day, Polar Bear Plunge Day, National Frozen Yogurt Day. (She’s half-convinced that most of these are inventions by Alex to confuse her, but she celebrates National Gummy Worm Day on July 15th anyway.)

But if she’s honest, a lot of the things that humans do, their customs, their rituals, still seem a little strange to Kara. Even after years of trying to understand.

Chatting up strangers, for example. On Krypton, interactions with someone not known to a person would have required some sort of intermediary, an introduction through a trusted person. If Kara had even dared to walk up to a stranger to talk to them, she would have faced discipline not just from her family but also from the broader community. When she first landed on Earth, she relied on Eliza or Alex to make introductions and felt intensely uncomfortable when kids at school would randomly talk to her. It took her a long time to believably mimic these kinds of human interactions, and if she’s honest, she still prefers an official introduction over just chatting up people out of the blue. (It’s why she was happy to tag along with Clark for her first encounter with Lena.)

Or there’s the act of blowing out candles on a birthday cake. Extinguishing light instead of keeping it burning as a means of celebration. The first time Eliza prompted Kara to blow out her candles, Kara was horrified and it took a lot of gentle reassurances from her adoptive mother to even consider partaking in this peculiar human tradition. To this day, Kara prefers her candles away from her cake and to leave them burning for as long as safely possible.

And then there are all the gestures associated with romance. With Krypton’s system of arranged pairings based on compatibility across a number of important factors, there was no need to wine and dine anyone. She could remember her parents showing affection for each other, but there was never any ritualized approach to romantic moments. Humans, on the other hand, humans have rules about dates, about which flowers are appropriate to give to someone and when, about who pays the bill at the fancy restaurant, about slow-dancing and little gifts and how many feelings to reveal and when.

It’s a lot to keep track of and confusing, and all the romance movies in the world cannot prepare Kara for her first official date with Lena.

She shows up with plumerias, because she knows Lena likes those and she knows, knows, that she’s supposed to bring flowers. But then Lena has tears in her eyes as soon as Kara hands them over, and she’s also wearing this dress that hugs her body in ways that make Kara’s higher brain function fizzle out. So she doesn’t protest when Lena pulls her inside with her hands fisted into the lapels of Kara’s suit jacket, follows Lena’s lead when she pushes her against the kitchen island and kisses her senseless, and finds herself naked and sweaty in Lena’s bed not long after that.

When Kara’s stomach rumbles a couple of hours later and Lena calls to have some food delivered, Lena chuckles.

“We kind of did this all backwards.”

Kara frowns. “How so?”

“Well,” Lena leans in and presses her lips close to Kara’s ear, making her shiver, “usually, the clothes come off after the fancy dinner.”

“You humans have a lot of rules about romance,” Kara huffs, and Lena laughs.

“I suppose we do. But I’m happy to break every single one of them with you, Kara Zor-El.”

#supercorp #kara x lena #supercorptober2023 #supercorptober

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haikyu-mp4 · 23 days

Text

Friend of a friend

word count; 2535 – gn!reader, very suggestive at the end, manga spoilers

Back in high school, you went to Inarizaki and chose to be a manager for the volleyball club in your second and third years. It was incredibly fun and you might have cried when they won nationals in their last spring tournament before your class graduated.

Even after graduating and going your different ways, you stayed friends with Suna and the twins, as well as some of the other players. Unfortunately, you spoke much less frequently with the others.

Being friends with those three means gossip sessions, which is why you were lying on your bed with your computer open on a video call with the guys, updating each other on the latest gossip.

“How’s the new team, Rin?” Osamu asked, making Atsumu squint with a cocky smirk as he probably immediately started comparing it to his team. Suna shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s cool. That Komori guy is nice, I never really talked to him in high school,” he said, mentioning him because Atsumu had told you guys all about the players in the All-Japan group back in your second year. And of course, everyone knew about the best high school libero of the monster generation. You let out the tiniest gasp, covering your mouth when the twins started cackling while Suna looked confused. “What?”

“We never told you?” Osamu asked Suna in particular while you were making wild gestures for him to shut up. “Y/n has had the biggest crush on Komori since our second year at Inarizaki.”

Oh, the horror. Suna’s face lit up in a way it rarely did, suddenly armed with precious information to be used against you. “Are you serious?”

“It was a high school crush, get over it!” you yelled as if the blush on your cheeks was not giving you away.

“You were practically drooling.” Atsumu accused you and if you could punch him through the screen, you would.

“Miya, I swear to god-” but Atsumu knew you couldn’t reach him, so he smirked and kept that big mouth talking.

“When we were at nationals that year, the two of us went off to go watch Itachiyama.” he started, but you interrupted him.

“Because Tsumu wanted to stare at Sakusa,” you mumbled, already giving up on making him withhold any information.

“I was scoping out the competition! Anyways, one look at Komori was all it took before I was punched way too hard in my shoulder and forced to give up any information I had,” he explained, making it as dramatic as he could for Atsumu-purposes and clutching his upper arm as if he could still feel it.

“Reeeally?” Suna cooed. “From what I can tell, he’s single.”

Osamu had his mic off as he was in the kitchen making food, leaving you to the two worst ones. “This is why ‘Samu is my favourite,” you mumbled. He gave the camera a thumbs up and a wink, still leaving you to your own defences.

“Is he the one getting you a date with your lifelong crush?” Suna asked rhetorically, phone whipped out in the corner of his screen making your face go pale.

“No, but neither are you!” you yelled, hoping it was somewhat threatening, but it sounded more desperate. “And who said lifelong? I hate you.”

“Fine, suit yourself.” he finally said, but the way he was side-eyeing the screen while Atsumu smirked told you this was not over yet.

Fortunately, weeks went by without you hearing anything else about any supposed date. Komori did come up in conversation now and then, which you appreciated when it wasn’t just so they could tease you. You could feel the crush blossoming again every time Suna told you about their adventures in volleyball and it felt somewhat nostalgic.

Should you give in and ask Suna for his number?

This is what you were wondering as you walked through the city, barely dodging bikes that tried to run over you while you daydreamed. The better option is probably giving in, but you preferred admiring him from far (far) away rather than facing the possible rejection. You pushed the door to the cafe where you’re meeting Suna, before huffing as you realised it said pull. Good start to the day for sure. When you finally got inside, you were muttering under your breath as your friend’s laughter rang in your ears.

“Shut up!” you barked at him before sitting down. He already ordered two hot chocolates when you said you were on your way.

“What’s got you so scatterbrained?” he asked, leaning his arms on the table.

You glared at him over your hands, which you were leaning on. “How to secretly perform a lobotomy on my enemy while he’s sleeping,” you answered, but your ears still burned red knowing what was actually on your mind.

“So you weren’t thinking about a certain teammate of mine?” Suna asked, wiggling his eyebrows. However, he looked genuinely surprised when you just leaned back down on your hands, not denying it. “Wait, you were?”

“Why am I friends with you?” you whine, finally sitting up to sip your hot chocolate in hopes that it would fix all your problems.

Suna smirked, hearing the bell ring over the door of the cafe. “I can think of a few reasons,” he said quickly before lifting his hand in greeting, making you whip your head in the direction of the entrance. To your horror, there stood none other than Komori Motoya. “Motoya!”

The libero smiled kindly, making your heart skip a beat as he walked over to you two. “Sunarin! What’s up?” he asked.

“Just catching up with this lovely person,” he said, throwing you a devilish grin. Komori turned to you, bowing lightly to greet you as well.

“Right, Suna told me about you. Komori Motoya.”

“Hi,” you said, feeling shy as you told him your name as well. As if you didn’t already know his name. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to think too much about how you said finally. “And you.” With that, Komori smiled and excused himself to order his coffee. This gave you some time to soundlessly curse at Suna, until you had to plaster a smile back on your face when he came back over, sitting down for a moment while waiting for his name to be called. “You were friends from high school, right?”

“Yes.” You glanced at Suna for help, words stuck in your throat. “I was a manager for the volleyball team.”

Komori made a sound of realisation like he finally put two and two together. “I thought I knew your face from somewhere!” he said, memories flooding back of the game in their last year of high school where they faced off against Inarizaki. “The pretty manager who got scolded by the referee for being too loud.”

You laughed at the memory, looking at Suna to see if he remembered as well and somehow managing to overlook that he called you pretty. “That’s the one,” Suna said, confirming that he did.

“You beat us in the semifinal,” Komori added. “Rin said you saw another one of our games at nationals once.”

“Not just once,” you chuckled before realising what you said and shutting up immediately. Both of the boys chuckled as well, one to ease your embarrassment and one to embarrass you more.

“Komori!” the barista yelled, relieving you at the perfect time. The man stood up and got his drink before coming back over but not sitting down. “I’ve got to go, but let’s meet again sometime, yeah?” he asked, directing the last half at you more than his teammate.

“Yeah,” you agreed, putting as much effort as you could into giving him your best smile. He bowed quickly before turning on his heel and leaving with a final goodbye.

Your eyes went straight to your friend, squinting. The second the cafe door closed, he burst out laughing, trying to not be loud and disturb others. “Not just once!” he mocked, making you bury your face in your hands. “You’re so hopeless at this.”

Let’s just say Suna told the twins how that went over your next video call, so now you’re watching them laugh at you as well, begging any existing god for it to stop and to just bury you already. After a few minutes, the laughing and teasing cooled off. “Well, now it’s my turn to step in,” Atsumu announced, and once again they got to watch the colour drain from your face.

“Step in? There will be no stepping in.” you stuttered.

“This Friday, I’m hosting a private party,” he said like a rich man from some movie. “And let’s just say you’ll enjoy the guest list, y/n.”

You bury your face into your mattress, pressing a pillow over your head. “Please, anyone. End my misery!”

But who are you to deny a good party? It’s just for fun, nothing interesting.

Nothing interesting at all- the thought drifted off into nothing as you watched Sakusa and Komori walk through the door. You chuckled to yourself at how Sakusa seemed to already turn around and try to escape when he saw there were more people there. From the corner of the room, where you previously chatted with Atsumu before he had to answer the door, you watched them. While calmly sipping your drink and leaning against the wall, you observed how sweet Komori acted, turning Sakusa back around and urging him to stay.

However, you should never let your guard down when you’re friends with a Miya. Next thing you knew, all the previously mentioned guys were looking where Atsumu pointed; right at you. In a fight or flight moment, your eyes widened and you escaped into the crowd before Komori could even see you properly. What a classy reaction!

The party went on and you danced with a couple of people you knew from here and there. It was a decent party, you had to admit Miya was good at hosting. Lucky you also crossed paths with a smirking Suna at the edge of the living room turned dance floor. “You truly are the image of grace,” he teased, and you glared in betrayal.

“Thank you,” you answered instead of arguing, moving along with the beat. Suna still seemed smug, and you felt a sense of deja vu when he lifted his hand and yelled ‘Motoya!’ over the loud music. “Have I told you that you’re the worst?” you asked in your sweetest voice before using some liquid courage to turn around to your undeniable crush with a drawn-out ‘heeey’.

“Hey, I was hoping I’d find you,” he responded, a hand caressing your upper arm because some people were pushing. “Where did Suna go?” he asked, glancing up once or twice before settling his gaze on you.

“I asked him to call on you, actually,” you lied, choosing fight instead of flight for once. After all, you had downed a cup or two of mixed alcohol since earlier.

“Really?” Komori smiled and you naturally copied it, albeit a bit more dazed. “Why?” he started moving with you to the music, his hand stroking down your arm and finding its place on your waist.

You didn’t answer him with anything more than a flirty smile and sheepish shrug, stepping closer to him and getting lost in the music while you dared to. If Suna was so insistent on him perceiving you, you didn’t want to seem like some loser with a childish crush.

Eventually, the song changed and you looked down into your now empty cup with a small pout. You left it on the closest surface and turned to Komori. “Should we go somewhere quieter?” you asked, pointing towards the stairs. When he agreed, you loosely grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs, looking around for a moment before realising the only good options were the bedroom or the balcony. “Bedroom or balcony?” you asked without thinking much about what it might seem like.

Did he look nervous? Komori was fiddling with his empty plastic cup and didn’t meet your eyes, biting his lip as he looked at the door to the bedroom. “Don’t you think it would be occupied?”

You shrugged and walked over to the door, pulling on the handle and swinging the door open only to find an empty albeit a bit messy room. Turning back to him, you knew your cheeks were burning. It’s just from the alcohol… “Coast is clear.” Komori followed you inside before closing the door behind you, hesitating for a moment before deciding not to lock it. What if that scared you off? What if he misunderstood? The two of you ended up facing each other in the middle of the floor, both thinking too much to make the first move. You weren’t sure if you pulled him upstairs for anything specific, you honestly just wanted to talk to him more now that you had the chance. And guts.

Komori accidentally dropped the empty cup he had been fiddling with and winced, seemingly spurring into action from that little movement alone. “You’re gorgeous.”

You looked at him wide eyed before the words just fell out of your mouth. “I have a huge crush on you.”

A breathy chuckle left his lips and it brushed over your face because he was so close, yet he was seemingly moving even closer by the second. “Sunarin told me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, cursing your best friend in your mind until you feel Komori’s hands land on your hips more confidently. “I hate him,” you informed him in a whisper. The little space between you felt like it wouldn’t fit anything louder.

“I don’t,” he answered with a small grin before he kissed you, making your arms automatically loop around his neck to pull him closer. You kissed him back with the lust of every wandering thought you had of him the last few years, and he kissed you back with the passion of someone who wasn’t used to being the crush with a cousin like Kiyoomi. When the back of your legs hit the bed, you lay back and pulled him with you, feeling one of his hands slide under your shirt, which you had no intention of stopping.

Suna wasn’t sure if he was happy or not with the sounds coming from Atsumu’s bedroom when he went looking for you. He was glad his plan worked out but he did not need the mental image that came with you moaning his teammate’s name. Is it possible to rinse your brain? Also, Atsumu would act so mad about you doing whatever in his bed before you ‘snuck’ out of the party hand in hand with Komori.

And Osamu would hear all about it in the morning when you came to get food wearing an EJP Raijin sweatshirt. He’d tell you having you there on your derailed walk of shame was bad for business, but still let you sit there and babble about how great Komori was, both in bed and after.

At least you were happy, and that made them happy too.

masterlist

#haikyu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #hq #haikyu fluff #komori motoya #komori x reader #inarizaki #inarizaki x reader

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