#prompt request are open if anyone is interested

[thepinkpanther83]

Hello again, I’ve come w a suggestion I was hoping you could possibly bring to life, if not though I understand! Idk if it would be a multi character fic or just one really long one so don’t feel obligated or anything!

Anyway, picture this: older Eddie, early to mid forties, he’s gruff but still lean and he’s the mechanic(if yo car fucked up don’t panic) and he’s been heartbroken so he just sleeps around and refuses to really let anyone in.

In comes you, new in town to take over some relatives business(maybe a bar or coffee shop). Late 20s, grungy and has quick wit. Eddie comes into your place of business and immediately catches your eye. You flirt and he does back, he leaves and one of the locals comes to you and gives the infamous “he isn’t looking for anything other than another notch on his bedpost” chat. So you think it’s just meaningless flirting, but he starts to come in more often and actively seeks your conversation/company.. que you having car problems and taking it into the mechanics and seeing him there. He asks for your number and you get to know each other.

Classic “he’ll change if he wants me” trope and of course, sarcasm, fluff and smut.

So, maybe something you’d be interested in? I really love your writing so I hope you aren’t uncomfortable w this request. Sending you love and positive energy!!

Grease And Honey (Pt.1 New Girl, Same Grind)

Chapter One: “New Girl, Same Grind”

Eddie Munson x Female Reader

💌 Author’s Note:

To my cherished repeat Anony requester… you know who you are. 🫶🏻

Thank you, from the bottom of my coffee-fueled heart, for this incredible story prompt. You handed me a rough sketch of a grease-stained, emotionally unavailable Eddie Munson and a snarky tea-drinking café owner, and let me run wild with them. I don’t take it lightly that you trust me again and again to bring your ideas to life. This story wouldn’t exist without your spark of inspiration.

I hope “Grease and Honey” delivers on all the slow-burn tension, banter, heartache, and heat your heart desired, and then some. 💋

Love always,

~Pinkie 🍒

Masterlist

Find me on AO3.

Read this story on AO3.

🎸🛠️☕🍯 Summary:

In the sleepy town of Hawkins, a freshly-inherited café and a busted-down car throw two unlikely souls into each other’s orbit.

He’s the town’s tattooed mechanic… gruff, flirtatious, and known for leaving hearts in his rearview. She’s the new girl with a sharp wit, a love of honeyed tea over coffee, and no intention of becoming anyone’s flavor of the week.

But some things can't be tuned out, not a shared spark, not stolen glances, and definitely not chemistry strong enough to break a lifelong habit of running from real connection.

Because sometimes, what starts as harmless flirting over coffee turns into something worth keeping.

Next Chapter: Chapter Two: "Morning Regular"

Click "Keep Reading" below the cut to read. 😘

Chapter One: “New Girl, Same Grind”

Hawkins Indiana, Summer 2006.

There was still a faint smell of cinnamon in the walls.

Even after months of dust settling, spiders claiming corners, and sunlight filtering through untouched blinds, the old place still smelled like your uncle’s favorite scone recipe. Sweet, spiced, and just a little burnt. Comforting in a “you’ll figure it out” kind of way.

You stood behind the scratched-up counter, sleeves rolled to your elbows, sticky with lemon cleaner and something older you’d rather not name. It was your third hour in the place officially opened, and already, your back ached and your hair was tied up with a pencil like some kind of over caffeinated librarian.

The old coffee shop: Grindhouse, sat squat on the corner of Main and Beech, its windows a little foggy from years of neglect but its bones still strong. Hip enough to attract the teens, comfy enough for the town’s aging poets and angry journalers. Black brick exterior, faded red awning. A flickering neon sign in the shape of a steaming mug hung above the door like a half-hearted welcome.

It was yours now.

Inherited, unexpectedly, after Uncle Jack’s heart finally gave out during a bar fight at The Hideout (which, you were told, he started and finished). You didn’t know Hawkins well. Hadn’t visited since you were a teenager. But something about the town’s stillness… the way time seemed to stretch just a little slower here… felt like the kind of restart you didn’t know you needed.

You flicked on the ancient espresso machine, affectionately nicknamed "The Beast" in your uncle’s handwriting on a taped label, and prayed it wouldn’t explode. Steam hissed, water sputtered, and you laughed when it groaned like a wounded animal.

“Same, buddy,” you muttered, tapping a tin of looseleaf chamomile.

Coffee was fine. Great, even, when done right. But you’d always been a tea girl. The kind who keeps jars of honey in a cabinet sorted by origin. Lavender from France. Orange blossom from California. Clover from some dusty roadside stand in Nebraska. The sweetness wasn’t just flavor… it was ritual. Pour, stir, sip, breathe.

And today, you needed the ritual.

You padded across the shop’s checkerboard tile floors, wiping down tabletops and thinking about paint swatches. You made a mental note to fix the warped floorboard near the window seat. The morning light was gorgeous there, perfect for reading, or brooding, or scowling at the world with a dirty chai.

You were halfway through reorganizing the old chalkboard menu, debating whether to bring back the “Bad Witch Latte” special, when the bell above the front door rang.

You straightened automatically, chalk still in hand, fingers dusted white. The early morning haze outside had finally begun to lift, casting a warm light through the front windows. It made the place look… almost alive again.

“Morning!” you called out, too chipper for how little sleep you’d gotten.

A trio of customers wandered in, two middle-aged women deep in conversation and a teen already glued to his phone. Locals, probably. You could tell by the way they didn’t even glance at the specials board or hesitate at the register.

“You’re the new girl, huh?” the taller of the women asked, giving you a once-over with a smile that was a little too tight around the eyes to be entirely kind. “Took over for Jack?”

You nodded. “That’s me.”

“Hmph,” the other woman muttered, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head. “Didn’t know he had family left. Thought you were some big city investor come to gut the place.”

“Nope. Just me. Grieving niece with a mild caffeine addiction and a dream.”

That earned a half-hearted chuckle. They placed their orders, skinny vanilla lattes, one with extra foam, and shuffled toward the corner booth like they owned it. Maybe they did. You were pretty sure the taller one had already started rearranging the throw pillows.

“Order in!” your barista called from behind the espresso machine.

Callie, hired two weeks ago off a hastily taped flyer you’d posted at the local library, was younger than you, twenty-two, and had the kind of sarcastic energy that made customers feel both entertained and a little nervous. Her hair was buzzed short on one side and dyed a green so electric it nearly matched the apron she insisted on customizing with iron-on patches.

She slid the lattes onto the counter with the flair of someone performing alchemy. “Gossip coven’s back,” she muttered under her breath. “They already asked if I’m your daughter.”

You barked a laugh and started prepping a cinnamon roll for the teen still scrolling through YouTube. “We’re like three years apart.”

“Exactly,” she grinned, and then added with mock reverence, “Mom.”

More customers trickled in after that. A guy in coveralls grabbed a black coffee and a ham croissant on his way to the hardware store. A pair of teenage girls with matching backpacks took twenty minutes to choose between the lavender matcha and the cherry cola cold brew. You fumbled with the register once, burned your finger on a hot tray twice, and forgot to apply a loyalty stamp to a regular’s punch card, he waved it off, but you could feel your pride bruising already.

The coffee shop had a heartbeat now. You could feel it, pulsing through the rhythm of orders and names called out, chairs scraping against the floor, that occasional, comforting hiss of the espresso machine. It wasn’t perfect. But it was yours.

Around noon, you finally caught a breath.

You were sipping a lukewarm cup of Earl Grey, honey swirled into a golden whirlpool at the bottom, when the door jingled again.

This time, the woman who walked in made your shoulders tense before you even saw her face.

Sixty-ish, sharply dressed, no hair out of place. Bright pink lipstick. Heels in a town that didn’t seem to require them. You clocked her immediately as the type who didn’t order so much as declare.

She made a slow circle around the shop, arms folded over a powder-blue cardigan, eyes scanning everything like she was conducting an inspection. She paused to lift a throw pillow, then turned it over like she might find contraband underneath.

“Can I help you?” you asked as warmly as you could manage.

Her gaze snapped to yours. “Just looking. I used to come in here all the time. Knew Jack. Shame about what happened.”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “He was… something else.”

“I’m Lorraine Whitmore,” she offered, like it was a name with weight. “I run the florist shop across the street.”

Ah. That explained the faint smell of roses and the air of neighborhood dominance.

“Nice to meet you. I’m-”

“Oh, I know who you are,” she cut in, smiling without teeth. “Everyone does by now. You’re the niece. Took over the shop. Drinks tea with honey instead of coffee. Wants to paint the walls. Trying to do things ‘your way.’”

You blinked. “Wow. I guess small-town gossip really does move faster than FedEx.”

She chuckled primly, then lowered her voice like she was handing over classified intel. “Word of advice, dear. Don’t go getting too comfortable too fast.”

You arched a brow. “Excuse me?”

“There are certain… rhythms in this town. People who’ve been here a long time. Things work better when you don’t try to change too much.”

Ah. There it was.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said coolly, gesturing toward the counter. “Can I get you anything?”

She waved a hand like she was above such things. “I’m off caffeine until the afternoon. But I’ll be back. Just wanted to see what the new girl looked like.”

And with that, she breezed out, leaving behind a trail of floral perfume and passive aggression.

Callie peeked out from the kitchen with a half-eaten brownie in her hand. “Was that the Lorraine?”

“Apparently,” you sighed.

“She once wrote a review in the Hawkins Post so scathing it got the pharmacy shut down for a week.”

“I believe it.”

The rest of the day unfolded in a haze of orders and overheard conversations. You started learning faces, catching names. You learned that Mr. Hathaway always wanted his muffin warmed but not too warm, and that Piper, the high school art kid with six nose rings, tipped in stickers and weed gummies instead of cash.

You learned that your uncle had a running tab with the local music store, and that Grindhouse used to do open mic nights. You made a note to maybe bring those back, when the time felt right.

There was a lull. Not quiet exactly, just the kind of brief, midday breath where the espresso machine could rest and the speakers played something low and moody from the ‘90s. You sipped your tea and leaned your hips against the counter, letting the steam fan over your face as Callie restocked muffins in the display case with the speed and intensity of a bomb tech.

Then the bell jingled.

You didn’t even have to look up.

Lorraine Whitmore had a heel-click. A little stomp in her step like she was leading a parade and everyone else was just lucky to be on the sidewalk. She marched right in with a massive patent leather tote, designer sunglasses (indoors, of course), and a notepad tucked under one arm like she was preparing to audit your soul.

“Good afternoon,” she said like it was a formal address to the nation. “I’ll have an oat milk cappuccino, extra dry, no foam, half a shot of espresso, two pumps sugar-free vanilla. And do you happen to have a gluten-free turkey sandwich on multigrain?”

You blinked. “We have turkey. We have multigrain. It… might have gluten.”

She pursed her lips like you’d just insulted her bloodline.

“Fine. I suppose I’ll survive. But no tomato. And could you cut it diagonally?”

You exchanged a look with Callie, who mouthed run and disappeared into the back, absolutely no help whatsoever.

You rang Lorraine up, prepared her beverage exactly as specified, while wondering what exactly makes a cappuccino “extra dry” and handed it off with the kind of tight-lipped smile reserved for tax season.

She didn’t leave.

Instead, she chose the seat farthest from the register and closest to the large window, facing out, so she could keep an eye on both the street and the shop. She set her bag beside her like a precious artifact and pulled out a legal pad. No laptop. Just pen and paper and the occasional squint over her glasses toward the counter.

You’d bet your last jar of lavender honey she hadn’t written anything on that pad in the last fifteen minutes, it was just an excuse to loiter and be nosy.

She was very nosy. And not even subtle about it. The kind of woman who heard footsteps and peeked through blinds. The kind who probably used the phrase “mark my words” in regular conversation.

You ignored her as best you could. Wiped down the already-clean counter. Rearranged the pastry display. Pretended not to notice her watching you like you were about to commit a crime against decorative shelving.

Then the bell rang again.

This time you did look up.

Boots first. Heavy ones, scuffed and grease-slicked around the soles. Then jeans, black, torn at the knee, and worn in the way that said earned, not bought that way. There was a slight hitch in his gait, barely noticeable unless you were looking, but you were. He had a slight half-limp, like an old injury had never quite stopped whispering to him.

Then rings, lots of them, flashing across long fingers as he pushed the door open. Tattoos curled around his knuckles and up his forearms, and disappeared under the sleeves of a black band tee so faded you couldn’t read the logo anymore. His flannel was open and rolled to the elbows. Oil stains on the hem. A chain on his belt hanging and connected to his jeans. Black sunglasses tucked into his collar.

His hair was a mess of warm brown curls pulled into a low bun at the base of his neck, with strands breaking free to frame his face in a way that shouldn’t have worked, but absolutely did. His jaw was sharp, shadowed in stubble, and his eyes scanned the place with casual disinterest, until they landed on you.

You didn’t smile.

You just watched him.

And he watched you back, slow and easy, one corner of his mouth pulling into a cocky half-smirk like he’d already decided something about you and wasn’t planning to share.

He approached the counter, dragging his fingers along it like he was checking the grain of the wood.

“You new?” he asked, voice low and rough, the kind of rasp that came from years of yelling over engines and bad music.

“That obvious?” you replied, deadpan.

He chuckled, short and smug. “Only people still trying are the new ones.”

You raised a brow. “Trying?”

He leaned in slightly, propping an elbow on the counter. “To clean. To make things pretty. To make the menu legible.” His eyes flicked toward the chalkboard you’d been reorganizing. “Locals don’t even read it anymore. They just order the same thing every day.”

“And what’s your usual?”

“Black coffee,” he said. “No sugar. No bullshit.”

Of course it was.

You moved to prep it without a word, already clocking the way his gaze lingered, not in a leering way, just… observant. Like he was cataloging something.

When you handed him the mug, he wrapped one hand around it like he hadn’t touched warmth all day.

“Thanks,” he said, then added with a cocked head, “You got a name, or should I keep calling you ‘New Girl’ in my head?”

You gave him your name, and he repeated it slowly, like he was trying it on for size.

“Eddie,” he said in return, with a grin that could’ve melted the wax off a bar candle. “Munson. Garage is a block down. If your car ever starts making a noise like a dying goose, that’s me.”

“Oh, I’ll call you right away, then,” you said dryly. “Love a man who knows his geese.”

He snorted into his coffee, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You got jokes. Not sure if that’s brave or reckless.”

You shrugged. “You got dirt under your nails and a hole in your jeans. Not sure if that’s charming or contagious.”

He laughed, loud and unbothered, and leaned back just slightly to size you up.

Lorraine very audibly turned a page on her untouched legal pad.

Neither of you looked at her.

But you both knew she was listening. Hard.

Eddie took a long sip of his coffee, still watching you over the rim of his mug like you were something interesting to study under good lighting.

Then he said, “So. What are you doing later?”

And just like that, your day got a hell of a lot more interesting.

You didn’t answer right away.

Not because you didn’t have one, but because you liked the way he looked when he thought he might’ve said too much.

“I’ve got plans later,” you said eventually, voice smooth and even. “But thanks for the offer.”

Eddie didn’t flinch. Didn’t pout or scoff or do anything dramatic. He just nodded slowly and leaned back a little, like he was reassessing, lips twitching at the corners.

“Oh yeah?” he asked. “What kind of plans? Hot date with a spreadsheet? Netflix and lemon-scented mop water?”

You tilted your head. “Dinner with a box of off-brand macaroni and a YouTube tutorial on unclogging industrial sink traps.”

He laughed again, like he couldn’t help it, and tapped the counter twice like you’d just scored a point.

“Okay, yeah, that’s hot,” he said. “Not gonna lie.”

“You sure you can handle that kind of commitment?” you teased. “I mean, things might get serious if I upgrade to elbow pasta.”

Eddie’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I like things serious. When they’re fun.”

You hummed noncommittally, but your smile was giving you away. There was a flutter in your chest that hadn’t been there this morning, a kind of stupid hope, if you were honest. But you weren’t going to toss it all at him like confetti.

Still, you didn’t want him to leave thinking it meant nothing. Because it hadn’t meant nothing.

“Some other time, maybe,” you said casually, wiping a spot on the counter that didn’t need it.

Eddie caught it. You knew he did. That little hitch in your tone, the crack in the cool.

He grinned like he’d won something.

“Good,” he said. “Would’ve hated to leave here thinking you didn’t want me to ask again.”

You scoffed softly. “You don’t seem like the type who needs permission to do anything.”

He drained the rest of his coffee like it was holy water, then reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a beat-up leather wallet. He slid a business card across the counter with two fingers, oil-smudged on the edge, but still perfectly legible.

Munson Auto. “If it makes a noise, I can fix it.”

Scrawled in dark ink below the official shop number was a second number. He tapped it twice, then met your eyes again.

“That’s my personal one,” he said, low and deliberate, with a wink that should’ve been illegal before 5 p.m. “You know. In case your sink trap doesn’t call you back.”

You stared at the card a second longer than you meant to, then slipped it into your apron pocket without a word.

Eddie pushed off the counter with one palm, gave you a lazy salute with two fingers, and backed toward the door with that same slight limp and a grin that practically had its own ZIP code.

Then he was gone.

And before you could even breathe, there was a theatrical clearing of a throat from the far corner of the shop.

You didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

“I see you’ve met Hawkins’ resident heartbreaker,” Lorraine said, standing from her table with her half-eaten sandwich in tow. “He comes in like that on purpose, you know. Dirty boots, tattoos, all that attitude, it’s a performance. And it works. Every time.”

You raised an eyebrow but stayed silent, waiting for the rest.

“He’s not the settling down type,” she went on, adjusting her tote strap and lifting her chin like she was about to drop life-altering wisdom. “Drives fast, talks faster. He’s charming until he gets what he wants, and then he disappears, just like his father. There’s a reason his little black book is more like a trilogy.”

You blinked at her. “Sounds like you know from experience.”

Lorraine narrowed her eyes. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, dear. You seem smart. Would be a shame to see you dragged through the same story as the rest of them.”

With that, she grabbed her bag and her judgment and left, heels clicking all the way to the door.

You stood there a moment, letting the words hang in the air like smoke from a burnt espresso shot.

Then you rolled your eyes, pulled Eddie’s card from your pocket, and stared at it.

It didn’t feel like nothing.

But you weren’t about to let some nosy town watch captain ruin your afternoon.

So you tucked it away, deep in the little zip pouch behind the register, and got back to work.

Whatever this thing was? You’d figure it out later. For now, there was tea to steep. Coffee to brew. Music to change. And a damn good smirk to pretend you hadn’t been thinking about ever since it walked out the door without paying.

Next Chapter: Chapter Two: "Morning Regular"

Who loves Eddie Munson, show of hands! 😂 Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list! @justalotoffanfiction, @yorshie, @jackalope-in-a-storm, @v1per1ne, @daveythorntonslocker, @cokepowder55, @kelsiegrin, @ash-stardust, @meankenna, @kellsck, @chronicles-of-koystee, @micheledawn1975, @fckyeahlames, @cantstandya2000, @totallysocially

Masterlist

[doodledeart]

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

comfort ☄. *. ⋆

summery: you fall asleep while lando plays video games

༯ ln x reader ༘⋆

༯ fluff ༘⋆

masterlist ☾☼

honestly, you hadn't planned it. lando had been playing some video game in the living room, connected to the tv, after dinner. and you just wanted to be close to him. so, you'd done the normal thing and laid your head on his lap, and watched him die a million times in the game.

the two of you had laughed and giggled and exchanged kisses. it was a chill night, and the two of you were just happy to be in each other's presence.

you hadn't realised when your eyes began to close. the sounds of the video game and lando's muttering was comforting, and it put you to sleep.

it took lando about forty five minutes to even notice that you had fallen asleep. he was surprised you hadn't woken up during the few times he got slightly louder than normal.

"babe, i died again," lando whined.

upon receiving no response, lando leaned over to check and noticed that your breathing was even and you had fallen asleep.

making a guilty 'busted' face, lando quickly switched off the video game. the two of you had plans to watch a movie, but clearly, you were too tired for it.

lando's fingers shifted back and forth on your cheek softly, making sure that you stayed asleep as he looked around for the blanket. realising that he had the blanket wrapped around his neck, he quickly removed it and opened it up to its full length, before covering you with it.

he tried to make sure that every part of you was covered, but with your head on his lap, he couldn't move much.

"i promised we would watch a movie. i'm so sorry," lando whispered as he covered you with the blanket.

"i'm addicted to this stupid video game, im so sorry," he continued.

knowing you, he knew that your unicorn stuffed toy would be near, and found it behind your back. gently taking it, he tucked it under your arm, making you stir.

he shushed you softly. "just your unicorn," he whispered. you fell back asleep quickly.

"rest, my love," he whispered as he caressed your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear, "i'm a little exhausting, i know. i promise we'll spend the whole day tomorrow watching movies,"

"i love you," he whispered, before leaning down pressing a kiss to your forehead.

you continued sleeping peacefully.

✩ ♬ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

this had absolutely nothing but vibes. anyways, i hope you like this! im sorry it took me so long to write this one! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry

i'd love your support! https://ko-fi.com/kavi2305

[dollyichi]

OH KATSUKI

bakugou katsuki x f ! reader ᯓ★ 3.7k words. m—dni. roommates + university au / f/wb / toxic themes (slightly) / creamp!e (don’t be like them!) / bisexual katsuki / krbk open relationship / ex!sero / slight ooc / mentions of smoking & drinking / not proofread

an entry to my “ milk and cookies “ event with the prompt #5 “i'm not gonna last long if you tighten up like that sweetheart.” this is my self request oops!

you just broke up with your ex, and your roommate’s boyfriend is miles away. having fun together shouldn’t be too bad, right?

you’re sat by the kitchen counter. eating the reheated dinner your roommate left by the fridge. you just got home from a pretty rough night.

you’ve just broken up with your boyfriend, but that’s life. you’re sure he’s going to beg to get you back next week but it didn’t matter right now. the relationship was a mess and you were sure it wasn’t exactly love.

you hear a door open and you see your roommate getting out of the shower. “hey kats~” you say.

he places the towel on his shoulders heading over to you.

“you just got here? it’s interesting you’re actually home.” always sassy, but that’s why you liked him. it’s true, you’re rarely at home anyway. only there during exam season or at the morning. always outside at a party or with your boyfriend, now ex.

“yeah we broke up.” you say with a dry chuckle. he makes no response, instead goes to the fridge. “yikes. well that’s none of my business.” he says, not actually knowing how to comfort someone after hearing that.

the sad thing about your relationship ending was the constant sex. you were sure that was the only factor gluing you two together. he was a sweet guy, but you were sure getting your brains fucked out happened more than a proper date—and you’re sure he’s still got his ex flings on his contacts.

“you and eijirou are still dating right?”

“it’s an open relationship.” he mumbles, grabbing a glass to put water in. you’re kinda happy to know that though.

“hmm makes sense but, doesn’t it get lonely? i mean he’s in osaka and it’s a pity you’re not getting fucked while he’s gone.”

he scoffs, “who says i’m not getting fucked?”

“i know you’re home every night bringing no one over.” he shakes his head.

“tch. fuck off. what’s it to you?”

you didn’t know why you even thought of it. maybe you just wanted some type of comfort, or maybe you’re just an insatiable wreck. though nobody would blame you for finding the blonde attractive, if given the chance anyone would love to eat him up, you just wanted to know if he’d give you the privilege.

as for the ‘issue’ at hand, you didn’t cry after what happened. “let’s break up.” you repeat in your head from earlier. you didn’t know if you’re numbed from all emotion of romance but you always wanted something physical. exactly how your relationship with your ex started and now, you’ve broken up because he wasn’t being ‘a boyfriend.’

the breakup felt empty but it didn’t exactly hurt as you expected. it felt weird even. like a ‘so what now?’ feeling.

“then, let’s be fuck buddies.”

he flinches at your question. and even you were slightly surprised. still, you got it out.

“yeah right, like i could get it up for you.” though that’s a lie. he’s thought about it, once, twice. in the rare times you bring your ex over and he hears those muffled moans from the other side of your room through the wall— “come on kats. we could fuck when we’re free, how about it?”

“what even happened with that sero that you’re replacing him? or are you such a cockslut that anyone’s good?”

“we broke up so it’s fine. and i only offered to you.” he rolls his eyes and you laugh. “i’m serious! my door’s always unlocked anyway. if you wanna use your dick just come right in.”

“i’m serious, fuck off.”

you smile at him, getting excited that he’s glaring at you under the dim light of the kitchen.

“the fuck’s wrong with you today?” he thinks to himself.

you take your coat off and walk to your room. katsuki didn’t dare watch you walk away, however your suggestion lingered in his head.

you were probably drunk, you smell of alcohol and you’re not thinking properly. you were always nice to him, you were always sweet.

still, he finds himself texting his boyfriend to tell him what you just asked.

eijirou: hey baby it’s okay, you can fuck around with y/n i don’t mind at all.

he thinks about it.

you and katsuki weren’t too close to begin with. sharing this big condo with him was just for convenience. both of you were going to the same university, he needed a roommate and you needed a place.

you thought of him as a friend and he does confide in you every rare chance. eating dinner together, cooking for you while you clean the place. helping each other with some projects, not too deep not too shallow. he was a hot headed guy who’s in a ‘long distance relationship’ and sees his lover every six months. that’s mostly what he knew about you too, how you were always out with your ex boyfriend, how you were always on and off.

fuck buddies—you’re pretty, attractive, though sometimes unbearable but it’s not like you’re asking him for a relationship—like hell he’d break up with his lover for someone as crazy as you.

would it be so bad to have a bit of fun?

the next day you greet him like normal. wave at him in campus like normal, eat dinner with him like normal.

you’re giving him so much to think about and you’re acting like nothing happened and it’s slowly driving him insane.

he’s a man too, he’s got his own urges—exactly why eijirou suggested to keep the relationship open, as long as it’s purely for sex.

it’s been a while since he’s hooked up with someone either, and he’s not the type to really go out of his way just for it.

you did smell of alcohol when you brought it up, but you were the most straight forward person he knows. the biggest factor as to why he even let you be his roommate in the first place.

your offer was convenient. he knows you, you know him, he doesn’t have to drive too far cause you’re just there. your face is nice and he doesn’t mind at all.

“yeah…. i don’t mind.” he mumbles.

you didn’t think much of it the moment you turned your back on him. you didn’t want to be pushy, you didn’t like repeating questions either. so if him not acting on it is his answer then it’s fine.

“not going out tonight?” he asks breaking the silence. you tilt your head at him, “do you wanna go out? i don’t mind.” as if that’s his thing.

“nah just unlike you to be here is all.” you both were washing dishes. wiping the counter, cleaning around. bumping arms from time to time, it was silent, comfortable.

though you probably didn’t notice the slight bags under his eyes for keeping him up at night from your question.

“maybe not tonight.” he thinks.

nothing happened the next day, and the next. you’re acting too normal, only uncharacteristically staying more at your shared place with him. not going out with your friends, not drinking, though he sees you smoking at the balcony from time to time.

it was already late at night and he couldn’t sleep. you on the other hand is on the couch on your phone.

you’re fresh from a breakup, but it’s firm you just wanted to get off, no strings attached.

katsuki almosg felt pathetic from how much he’s overthinking this.

he reads a text from his boyfriend, making sure he wasn’t doing anything stupid at all.

eijirou: yes katsuki i told you i’m okay, i’m fine with it. i’d rather you be with y/n than some random too. don’t worry about it baby and just tell me what happens. <3

it almost hurt how casual it was but it shouldn’t—he’s in love with someone else. hooking up really wasn’t his thing, that’s why he rarely engages on it no matter how ‘needy’ he gets, and he’s not necessarily needy.

yet, somehow you’re getting him to be. you’re not even doing much but it’s like you’ve planted a ticking bomb in his head.

of course, he’s not gonna back down from such a good offer though.

he groans, getting out of his bed and walking over to where you were. his lover gave him an explicit yes. there shouldn’t be any issue now.

“hey kats~” you greet him, just like you did the other night. it’s sending shivers down his spine. “let’s do it.”

“huh?” you act dumb, knowing he actually agreed.

he clicks his tongue, “let’s fuck around.” impulsive but well thought.

you grin, sitting up properly to look at him from the couch. standing over you under such a dim light just like before. you didn’t think his presence would be so demanding like this. but he’s already wincing from your glare—almost crystal clear from the way you’re looking at him, how you’ve been wanting to eat him up.

you waste no time getting him seated on the couch, already on his lap while you start to grind on him.

you’re overwhelmingly assertive it’s so attractive. “how do you fuck with eijirou? tell me everything~”

his breath hitches when you start kissing his neck. getting sensitive when he feels your breath under his ears. “he tops.”

“that’s your preference? what about girls?”

“just a few times.” you hum. “usually oral or fingers. not often more than that.”

“kissing?”

“that’s the best part.” and you swore you almost swoon. you didn’t know katsuki could actually be cute.

he stops you for a bit, “are we really gonna fuck tonight?”

“well what do you want to do?”

he sighs, “just wanna feel you a bit.” you wait for him to make his move. you wonder what he'd do, what he likes.

“stick out your tongue.”

and so you do, moving your head to look at him with you tongue out. katsuki leans forward, taking the tip of your tongue in his mouth. his hands are already moving towards your chest.

katsuki fully takes your tongue in his mouth, sucking on it. you mewl against him—you never did that before.

katsuki pulls away to take off your shirt. “didn’t know you liked that.” you tell him.

“yeah? i like a lot of things.”

it was definitely like a reset on your part, almost like an awakening. seeing this new side of him, getting to understand and feel this way for the first time—katsuki was just so different from anyone you’ve ever been with, and from what you even imagined.

the cherry on top was seeing drool coming out of his lips. you should’ve just broken up with your ex sooner. and you’re so glad you never asked him to get into a threesome, that scumbag didn’t deserve to see someone as perfect as katsuki.

when your top’s finally off he takes a bit to look at them. “even your tits are pretty huh.”

this might’ve been the first time you’ve ever felt shy.

“take your shorts off for me.” you nod sliding them off slowly, making sure he sees every inch of skin that you’re revealing for him. katsuki can’t help but grin from excitement.

“thought you couldn’t get it up for me?” you say hovering over the bulge from his sweats. he rolls his eyes.

he holds onto your sides while you pull down the fabric along with your panties. his mouth’s slightly open when he finally sees your pretty cunt that’s shiny from the slick pooling. he chuckles, using two fingers to swipe between your folds, “you’re so fucking wet.” he says, moving his fingers up and down as strings of your slick stretched onto his fingertips.

you shudder when he stills on your clit. your move your hips, trying to get any stimulation from him. “too eager huh.”

he takes of his fingers causing you to whine. in a swift motion he carries you over to his room. “funny you chose yours.”

“don’t want plushie eyes watching me fuck you thinkin’ i’m their dad.” it’s cute that’s he’s trying to be funny.

"don't got a condom." he says as he lays you on the bed softly. wasting no time then to hover above you. "don't want you to use one." neither of you couldn't help but chuckle.

you're both just as needy.

“can you play with yourself for me?” his voice was raspy, breathy, almost needy. you’d prefer him touching you but him on top was enough to get your hands moving towards your clit. “yeah circle around it with your pretty fingers.”

you do exactly everything he tells you to. moving faster, slower. teasing your entrance while he pinched your nipples. he’s kissing the corners of your mouth while he asks you make yourself cum while he toys with you.

you never noticed the mirror on the top of his bed. you were rarely invited into his room, this is the longest you’ve been in there.

“what a fucking view.”

his back is so seductive, watching it move while you get off on your own fingers. the visual and the stimulation on your clit and his hot breath on your neck is getting you so sensitive—you’re almost there.

you’re almost shaking from how hot he’s being. “when are you gonna fuck me kats~” you’re already a mess doing this much. he’s stripping himself off his clothes and you’re getting so close the moment he’s flashing his happy trail.

katsuki hisses from hearing how wet you are, all for him. it’s just so different from what he’s used to.

“don’t wanna cum yet.” you say, slowing down your fingers. he pulls you towards him, maneuvering your body so that he’s on the bed.

you’re sat back on his lap, you bring your fingers covered in his slick towards his mouth which he takes in. sucking on them while he starts pumping his shaft. your breath hitches when you feel him moaning against them.

you wanna fuck him so bad.

he pulls away, lips now covered in more spit than earlier. katsuki’s getting messier each minute he’s so gorgeous to you.

“sit on it yourself.” firm and commanding, you’re sure him getting you to do the chores would be bad after this.

you replace his hand with yours, positioning the tip against your entrance. you’re surprise he even let you do this raw, someone so picky as him.

“f-fuck yeah…” he moans while he enters you. so slow yet so smooth, like a perfect fit. “i'm not gonna last long if you tighten up like that sweetheart.”

you elicit a long moan. you can feel him throbbing inside you, “fuck this is the best.” you hear him say.

you jolt when he pushes you down, back arching as your chest hits against his. you’re sure you could feel him so deep inside it’s driving you insane.

you’re panting, trying to catch your breath but he ignores you, gripping your hips to move you the way he wants, using you to get off like a fucking toy while you’re trying to get a hold on his shoulders. “said you wanted me to use my dick right? well aren’t you all bark.”

“your cock’s so f-fucking big!” bigger than your ex’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever fucked before.

you’re scared you could get addicted to this. you’re scared the moment you stop you’d ask for it every night.

“s-shit- katsuki-“ you couldn’t even look at him properly. you were so sure if you were eijirou you wouldn’t let him go. if you eijirou you would’ve been fucking him everyday.

he’s fucking you so good you’re tempted to ask him if you could be his second lover. you wonder would he be sweeter? more softer? would it be more intimate than this?

would he call you baby? what else would he do? would his hands touch you more tenderly?

he's handling you so well you're hoping this wouldn't be a one-time thing.

though underneath katsuki’s roughness is a man that’s easily stimulated. it’s sexy that your sweating, it’s sexy that your tits move while he bounced you on him. when he pulls on your tongue with his fingers when you ride him.

you sit back and show him your puffy clit, which he presses his thumb against, circling around the the sensitive bud. “you’re whimpering so much.”

maybe he’s getting carried away, wanting to invite you when eijirou comes for a visit. getting greedy thoughts getting you to ride him while he’s sucking off his boyfriend.

“h-hey focus on me.” you cup his cheeks with a pout.

he looks at you with half lidded eyes, removing any restraints he’s been suppressing for the past few minutes.

it’s getting so late and you’re still at it. you’re just that good. “you’re cute when you become a mess huh?”

his cock’s so big it’s still not letting up, even getting bigger with every thrust. both so focused in each other that he let his phone ring a few times before he picked it up.

“put it on speaker~” you whisper.

katsuki makes the swiping motion to answer the call, “sero.” he says.

he hisses when you clench on him tighter from hearing your ex’s name out of his mouth.

he’s always fucking ruining shit, but do you even care anymore?

you take his phone from him to place beside you. “honey~ i’m fucking katsuki~” you exclaim, wrapping your arms on his neck as you pulled him closer. katsuki looks at you with confusion, absolutely hates that you’re involving him in a feud he doesn’t care to be in.

then again, perhaps this whole ordeal got him involved automatically.

“y/n? w-what?” you hear sero’s voice break.

a new record, barely a week in and he’s getting katsuki to talk to you for him. "what a loser," you think.

you’re not interested in talking though. you've almost forgotten that your ex even existed the moment you got a taste of your roommate.

he tried to talk to you, call out to you it was so pathetic. saying how he misses you, if he could come over, only to be drowned out by your spews of, “oh katsuki,” or praises of the blonde's touch getting rougher each time your ex started to beg you to listen. it's almost bruising.

“you’re better than him.” katsuki’s sure he could hear sero’s heart break from the other side of the screen. his eyes were focused on the number of seconds of the call. only for it to end, knowing he’s given up.

he chuckles, “you broke him.” and yet he feels somehow prideful, an ego he didn’t know he had—how he’s fucking you while your shitty of an ex is struggling to get your attention, pitiful but exciting.

“nah he probably didn’t- hnngh~ get a shot with a girl that’s why he’s crawling back.”

“yeah? and i was sure he was fucking you good every time.” you yelp when katsuki changes positions. you’re now on your back again, watching him from the reflection of a mirror.

you’re such a mess, you didn’t even realized you cried.

“you made me want to fist my cock every night.” he says before thrusting back in. it was steady, hot, you’re sure you’re already melting as he picked up the pace. you didn’t know how much more you could take.

“your moans are always fucking hot.” he takes your legs to wrap it around him, “but it sounds better when it’s my name instead.”

you’re so close, he’s holding back so well. you’re probably the best fuck he’s ever had. “g-gonna cum-“ you weakly whisper.

his cock’s already twitching so much you could feel everything. “inside please- do it inside kats~” no matter how much you’re fucked out you still have it in you to tease him with that tone of yours.

it’s going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

as if it’s like a switch flips whenever you call out to him. how your tongue perfectly moves when you say his name, like you’re meant to.

yet you’re not his, and he’s not yours. you’re only just playing around, this was just to satisfy his urges and yours.

somehow, still, he didn’t want to let you go. and you’re the same.

he yelps when you pull his head down towards you, taking him in a sweet kiss. bucking your hips upwards to meet his as your movements turn more erratic.

cumming feels so much better when you’re kissing. all you could hear in the room was the sound of skin slapping against each other and your moans muffled from the kiss.

you grip onto him, clawing at his back and he didn’t care how much of a mark it left on him.

his thrusts become sloppier, quicker, and you feel your climax building up so fast. the knot in your chest becomes so tight.

“mmhh~” he moans loudly against you, pushing one last thrust before spilling inside, just as you asked him to. and you’re crying, feeling so full of him that you still wanted a bit more.

he whimpers while you tried to continue his movements, almost overstimulating him. katsuki pulls out and lays beside you. only to pull you close to him he plays with your pussy.

“look at yourself in the reflection for me. watch me play with your pussy.” broken breathy moans come from your lips as you bury your head further onto his chest. his other hand’s on your chin, motioning over your head to the top mirror. "such a fucking mess we made huh?"

you’re both sweaty, tired, yet he’s fucking you with his fingers relentlessly just to give you that climax you’ve given him so graciously.

“c-cumming~ katsuki~ 'm c-cumming!” it’s almost embarrassing how loud your cunt is.

that tight little knot in your stomach come undone, shouting his name one last time, your body twitching on top of his as you calm down.

“holy shit that was so hot.” you exclaim in between heavy breaths. "you liked it?" he asks you and you nod.

“then tomorrow.” huh? “i’ll fuck you even better tomorrow.”

“hah...” you breath out, laying on your chest on his to plant a kiss to his lips. “then we should let your boyfriend watch too~ to return the favor.”

“shut up.” maybe he’s gotten greedy for sure. he doesn’t even want to share you with his own lover after this.

can’t tomorrow come any faster?

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

[mggslover]

‘spencer’s “first” time showing you his jealous/possessive side’. bau reader and spencer just started dating and are a bit reserved when it comes to showing affection in the office. a new agent starts flirting/trying to get readers attention and for the first time spencer make sure everyone knows who his girl friend is <3 thank you !!!

the first time spencer gets jealous genre: fluff word count: 965 a/n: oh how i love this prompt!! thanks for the request

Spencer Reid wasn’t big on PDA, so it didn’t surprise you when he suggested keeping your relationship under wraps once it became official. You didn’t mind much—sure, it was a little frustrating when he’d pat your hand away at the round table or create distance the morning after a particularly fun night, knowing he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of you—but in general, you were glad to keep things private. You had no problem avoiding the “no dating between coworkers” policy drama, and it gave you the opportunity to focus on the cases and enjoy Spencer’s company even more when you’d sneak off home together at the end of the day. 

So, when you found yourself chatting with the new addition to the team—Agent Owen Rogers—you didn’t expect the effect it would have on your boyfriend.

“Of course he’s taken an interest in her. That woman makes everyone fall head over heels,” Penelope half-sighed, her voice a mix of awe and envy as she watched you talk to Owen from the office window. Her words caught Spencer’s attention, and he turned to the scene, spotting you mid-conversation. He recognized the looks his colleagues were giving Owen—those same dreamy, admiring glances they'd had for Hotch’s brother whenever he visited the office.

Spencer’s posture stiffened as the understanding sank in. If he were being honest, he’d liked the new agent when they first met, but now, seeing the way Owen was smirking at you as he moved closer, that initial fondness had quickly morphed into distaste. He could still hear his colleagues gushing over the agent as he quickly got up and headed down the stairs toward you.

“So, I was thinking Italian? Do you like Italian?” Owen asked, his voice upbeat.

Before you could even open your mouth to turn him down, you felt the familiar warmth of your boyfriend’s arms wrapping around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder.

“We love Italian.”.

You stood there, completely bewildered, as your boyfriend not only inserted himself into the conversation but also made the boldest display of possessiveness, wrapping his arms around you without a second thought. It was so un-Spencer-like—especially in the office—but you weren’t about to complain, your hands instinctively resting over his arms.

“Actually, Owen—I can call you Owen, right?” He doesn’t wait for confirmation before continuing. “You know, it’s fascinating how often people pick Italian food for a first date. Objectively, it’s a terrible choice. Think about it: you’ve got these long, slippery noodles—spaghetti, for instance—that are practically designed to humiliate you. The odds of splattering marinara sauce all over yourself—or worse, your date—are alarmingly high. And then there’s the garlic. People convince themselves that a mint will magically erase it, but we both know that’s just a delusion. Why anyone still thinks it’s a good idea is beyond me. Kind of stupid, don’t you think?”

You bit your lip, struggling to suppress your laughter as Owen’s face crumpled. You truly felt sorry for the poor thing—he really was a nice guy—but seeing Spencer get this sassy, especially when it was all because of you, was strangely entertaining.

“I—uh, yeah.” Owen gives a nervous laugh, his fingers awkwardly brushing the back of his neck. “Pretty stupid.”

“But we’d love to have Italian food with you! Right, baby?” Spencer gives your waist a subtle squeeze, his silent cue for you to play along.

You cough slightly, trying to cover your laugh. “Right! Yes, totally—Italian sounds great.”

“Yeah, that’s cool, guys. But, uh, now that I think about it, I’m swamped. You know, being a new agent and everything.” Roger’s voice wavers just enough to betray his weak excuse.

“So unfortunate. Maybe another time,” Spencer replied smoothly. Owen nodded stiffly, forcing a tight smile before quickly walking off.

You scoffed a laugh as Owen disappeared down the bullpen, the shock still lingering. You turned to Spencer, your eyes wide in disbelief.

“What in the world has gotten into that pretty head of yours?”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed a little, suddenly aware of how much of a spectacle he had just made in the middle of the office.

“He was asking you out,” he said quietly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You chuckled, reaching up to adjust his collar. “And I was just about to say no.”

His arms found their way back around your waist, leaning into your touch as if he’d forgotten where he was. His eyes flickered from your hands to your face, his expression softening. “I know you were. But he should know not to ask you.”

You smiled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear, amused by how the man who’s so intent on keeping your relationship discreet in public is now letting his clingy nature shine through.

“You know he can’t smell that I’m taken, right?” you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

“Well, maybe we should change that,” Spencer whispered, his voice low as he leaned in. His curls tickled your neck, causing you to giggle.

Unbeknownst to you, the whole team had quietly tiptoed their way down the stairs, and gathered around on the other side of the bullpen. They stood there, wide-eyed, like they were watching an episode of their favorite drama.

“Derek… Am I seeing this right?” Garcia whispered, voice dripping with curiosity as she watched Spencer's face disappear into your neck.

Morgan’s chuckle echoed through the bullpen. “Oh yes, babygirl. You’re seeing it just right.”

Spencer’s grip on you tightened as he sensed the peering eyes, but instead of discomfort, he radiated a quiet pride. He wasn’t hiding anymore—he was proud of what you shared, proud to be yours, and for you to be his, and he wanted the world to know it.

[sarahroutldge]

i love you, i'm sorry.

a/n: requested based on a prompt list - the dialogue prompt is in bold! gif not mine, all credits to the creator (also the title has nothing to do with the song, it was just stuck in my head lol)

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: you and jj maybank drunkenly hooked up a few nights ago, and neither of you know how to deal with that. (routledge!reader)

word count: 3k

warnings: fluff/humor, angst w/ a happy ending, implied sexual content, drinking, semi-proofread, I think that's it

John Booker Routledge never thought he’d actually have to tell his best friend JJ Maybank that his little sister was off limits. Not once did it ever occur to him that JJ would ever think of you in a different way; he hardly liked to consider the idea that you dated anyone in the first place, let alone that you’d express any interest in the man he knew inside-and-out.

But things change and people get older. After you and the rest of the Pogues found El Dorado and began construction on Poguelandia, JJ started to see you differently. Sure, he always found you attractive, but JJ also found every woman he encountered attractive, so he never thought much of it. 

And you certainly didn’t ever think of JJ in that way either. At heart, you were a relationship girl; and while the fact that you were single was proof enough that no relationship of yours had worked out in the past, one of your greatest strengths was that you knew what you wanted. You didn’t seek out something casual because you knew you’d be left unfulfilled. You wanted something all-consuming and destined for marriage. Seeing your older brother grow and mature in his relationship with Sarah Cameron only clarified that further. In your mind, if the second-most relationship-allergic person you knew (after JJ of course) was able to dive headfirst into marriage with a girl so remarkably different from himself, then you decided you wouldn’t settle for any less.

Feelings, however, have a funny way of messing with plans and expectations. While JJ had essentially lived with you and your brother for years, building Poguelandia only pushed the two of you even further together. And watching someone so unpredictable and chaotic as JJ tame himself for the sake of his friends and his future stirred something in you that you hadn’t been expecting at all.

Over the months, your interactions with JJ changed, little by little, and for a while neither of you noticed. It just grew natural for JJ to fix something in the bait shop that you were fussing over, or for you to bring JJ a sandwich or a snack while he worked. You found little ways to make the other’s day brighter, even if subconsciously you never even considered why you were doing these little favors in the first place.

What actually brought the two of you together wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, however. One night, after a long day of work on the house, the Pogues found themselves hanging out above the bait shop, buzzed off of beers, seltzers, and a few joints made of flower grown right from Kiara’s secret spot in the garden. And while the rest of the Pogues eventually found their ways inside and to sleep, JJ and you probably drank a bit too much. One thing led to another, and that was the first night you hooked up. It was slow, passionate, and clumsy, and while the both of you would later blame it on the alcohol and the weed, deep inside you were both fully aware that it was simply the end result of months of pining.

And that’s how you found yourself waking up on the hammock above the bait shop in only one of JJ’s t-shirts and a pair of underwear. The combination of the blinding North Carolina sunrise along with John B.’s extremely loud footsteps on the floor below practically forced your eyes open. While you play the night before over in your head, trying to piece it all together, you’re scrambling to get the rest of your clothes on.

Running downstairs with your shoes untied, you let out a huge “oof” as you collide with your brother, almost sending the two of you to the ground. 

“Good morning to you, too, sis,” John B. says, his eyes expressing his confusion at the fact that you obviously slept upstairs last night.

“Oh, um, sorry, JB, I guess I just drank too much last night and crashed on the hammock,” you practically vomit out.

“Riiiiight,” John B. responds, clearly not convinced but nonetheless wholly uninterested in this situation in the first place. “Just, uh, go shower. You stink.”

Assuming John B.’s comment is a joke, you let out a laugh that immediately sounds forced. “Yeah, uh, that’s what I planned on.”

John B. shoots you a thumbs-up before making his way behind the counter, clearly prepping to open the bait shop for customers. Deciding to avoid any more awkwardness between the two of you, you begin to make your way back to the house. However, your brain can’t help but consider the possibility that only more awkwardness awaits you back in the house, which you’re really not ready to process. You spin around to face John B. at the entrance to the bait shop. “Hey, uh, is JJ up?”

John B. doesn’t even look up from whatever he’s doing at the counter, clearly focused on something else. “Yeah, he took his bike to the grocery store about ten minutes ago, I think.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief, and then turn back around to make your way into the house. Occupied with trying to wrack your brain about what exactly happened last night, you again stumble into someone else as you walk through the kitchen.

“Ow,” Sarah squeaks. 

You immediately apologize, looking her in the eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just, uh, didn’t sleep well last night,” you explain, hoping she’ll move out of the way so you can make your way to your bedroom upstairs.

But Sarah, unfortunately, has the attention to detail that your brother lacks. Looking you in the eyes, her brows furrow. “Did you sleep outside last night?”

You scratch your head. “Uh, yeah. Just, uh, crashed after all those drinks, you know?”

One thing that Sarah does share with your brother, however, is her unwillingness to let things go. Clearly noticing that something is on your mind, her eyes stare into yours, as if she thinks that she can figure out everything about you based on your facial expressions alone. And evidently, she can, because she then proceeds to whisper-yell, “Y/N, is that a hickey?”

She lightly taps a new bruise on your neck that JJ must have left last night, and you can feel your cheeks heat up at the action. You bat her hand away, and she smirks when she realizes what you must be hiding. 

“I don’t have time for this,” you blurt out, before maneuvering yourself around Sarah and walking over to the bottom of the stairs. 

“Whatever you say,” she taunts behind you, and you can practically hear her giggle as you make your way up the steps. 

Once you get to your bedroom, you lock the door behind you. Sliding down the wall, you let out a sigh, grateful that you met no more obstacles on the way upstairs. But as soon as your butt hits the ground, reality comes crashing down, and you realize that you have a much harder obstacle to deal with than running into one of your friends in the hallway. Instead, you have to deal with the fact that you slept with JJ Maybank—the man you’ve known practically your entire life who not only happens to be one of your closest friends, but even more than that, is your brother’s best friend. Yeah, you’re screwed.

For the next few days, JJ avoided you at all costs. He didn’t want to face the consequences of what you’d done, and was worried more than anything that his friendship with you (and John B. for that matter) would be ruined. And while you had the same idea for a while, within only a few days you decided that talking about it was the only way to move forward. Knowing JJ’s extensive dating history, you were convinced that JJ would only tell you that it was a mistake and a regret. You prepared yourself for the negative, and found him alone at night in the employees-only area above the tackle and bait shop.

You carefully tiptoe up the stairs to prevent JJ from getting spooked and immediately bailing on the conversation. When he notices your presence, he shoots up from where he was laying on the hammock, just like you had anticipated. “JJ, we need to talk—”

“Y/N—”

“No, please, JJ, just let me speak,” you clarify, before walking closer to him. 

Realizing he doesn’t have any other choice, JJ sighs, gesturing for you to continue.

Working up the nerves, you wring your hands, preparing yourself for a moment that seemed more daunting than any of the actually threatening experiences you’d had with the Pogues over the last few years. “You know me, Jayj. You know that I don’t have one-night stands or casual relationships. And I can’t go on like this, pretending like what happened between us is normal or that I can just ignore it. I know that you’ve probably never had feelings for me, but if I don’t tell you this now, I’ll regret it. I… I like you, JJ.” Taking a breath, you step back, feeling like a weight has been lifted off of your chest. Only now, you have to brace yourself for the inevitable rejection.

Looking into JJ’s eyes, you can’t tell what he’s thinking, and that’s nothing short of terrifying. You’ve known JJ since he was a kid, and he’s not the best liar, so you can usually tell what he’s feeling from the moment you see him. But this time, you’re clueless, and the silence is deafening.

“JJ, please say something. If you’re going to tell me you don’t like me back, then just say it so we can move on and put this behind us.”

He brings his hands to his face, trying to piece the words together. “Just, uh, gimme a minute.” You nod at him, before moving to sit where he’d previously sat on the hammock. You swing your knees up to your chest, hugging them in comfort. 

You watch as he paces the floor around you. It’s not long before he speaks, but it feels like hours as you wait. 

“Y/N, I… We’ve been friends forever. You, me, and John B. It was the three of us for the longest time and then Pope came and then Kiara and… Uh, I’m getting off track.” He starts fidgeting with the ring on his thumb as he looks down at the ground, preparing for what he’s about to say next. “I won’t lie—you’ve always been hot. Like super fucking hot. And I’m not good at relationships or whatever, but I… I like you, too.” 

And your ears can’t believe what they’re hearing, so your head immediately jerks up to meet his eyes. “Wait… you do?” 

He nods, and you can feel a smile beginning to form on your face. “Well, then, why didn’t you just say that?” you ask. 

“Because it doesn’t matter,” JJ answers, and your heart immediately sinks in your chest, once again. “I can’t do this to John B., Y/N. I just can’t.”

“Who cares about him? He’ll get over it. John B. is not my problem.” 

“That’s the point, Y/N! He’ll be there for you no matter what. But the Pogues are basically all I have left. You and John B. are my family, and if I mess shit up with you, I’ll lose you both. And I can’t do that to myself.”

“You won’t mess it up, J,” you reassure, though part of you understands what he’s getting at.

“When have I not messed something up? I mess shit up all the time, and you mean too much to me for me to risk it. You need to go and find someone out there better than me, because as much as it’ll hurt me to see you with someone else, it’d be a lot worse if you were in pain and I was the reason. It’s because I’m in love with you that I wish we’d never done what we did,” he blurts out. 

And while you were trying your best to listen to him carefully, all you heard was him telling you that he’s in love with you. “You… You love me?” you whisper, and JJ’s eyes go back to the floor.

“Of course I fucking do! How could I not? You’re gorgeous and funny and weird and you know me better than anyone else, and I’ll never forgive myself if I ruin shit with you. So just let me go, because this is the hardest thing I’ve had to do.”

As you process what JJ says, he rushes down the stairs. The heavy pattern of his boots hitting the wooden floors grabs your attention again, and you sprint downstairs to meet him before he can run away completely. You grab his hand and pull him towards you. When his head moves, you can see tears in his eyes, even as the sky gets darker. “It’s not okay to just leave me here after telling me you love me back,” you choke out.

“We can’t—we’ll never be together,” he bites back, trying to sound angry. But you can read right through him, and he knows it. You drop his arm and reach up to grab his face with your hands. Your thumb wipes away a stray tear.

“JJ, you’re right: I do know you better than anyone else. And yes, you’re not the best at relationships. But don’t you think that with us it could be different? That maybe because we know each other so well we can figure it out together?”

He begins to shake his head, but before he can get any more words out, you continue. “JJ, I know everything about you. I know the worst things you’ve done and the best things. You’re always calling me a know-it-all, and yet right now you don’t seem to believe me when I tell you that I know we can do this. We can do it, and it’ll be hard, but it’ll be worth it because I can’t picture myself loving anyone else the way I love you.” And as the tears stream down your cheeks, JJ inches a bit closer to you.

“You… You love me?”

“Of course I do, you idiot. How could I not? You’re the sweetest, kindest, funniest, bravest person I know and my life would be so unbelievably boring if you weren’t in it.”

His eyes look all over your face, trying to see if he can detect a lie. But all he sees is someone so convinced in their feelings, so articulate, and he can’t believe that it’s possible but he might just love you more than he did five minutes ago. 

“Let me deal with John B., okay? I get why you’re scared and I would never want to come between the two of you, but you deserve to be loved, JJ. And I want to be the one who gets to love you.” 

As soon as you get the words out, he’s pressing his lips to yours, and you’re so glad he reached out to hold your waist because otherwise you’d be falling to your knees. It’s magical and romantic and you can taste the salty years you’ve both shed. His right hand moves to grab the side of your face and pull you even closer somehow, before moving back down to your waist and squeezing you in anticipation. The two of you break away, panting. He grips you again and gestures for you to jump, which you do, and you wrap your legs around his back. He carries you over to the counter of the bait shop, where he sets you down. Your legs squeeze his, and he grabs ahold of your face with his hands. “Before we um… do anything else… Are you sure?”

You nod immediately. “Babe, I need the words.”

Your heart clenches at the term of affection, and you pull his shirt to bring him even closer to you. “I am absolutely, positively sure that I love you, JJ Maybank.” He grins so wide you start giggling.

He smashes his mouth back to yours, and this time the kiss is hotter and needier. It’s just a mess of clashing teeth, lips, and hands, with little “I love yous” whispered in between. 

JJ tugs on the bottom of your shirt, and you break away so that he can lift it off, throwing it somewhere else in the shop. His shirt follows, but before he can unclasp your bra, you push him back. “JJ, I’m not fucking you in the bait shop.”

“It’s dark out and no one’s gonna see—”

You jump down from the counter. “It’s either in the house or in the Twinkie. Your choice,” you challenge, and he rolls his eyes.

“Oh come on, people do it all the time,” he justifies, and you look at him like he’s grown two heads.

“What on earth are you talking about?” you ask.

“Hooking up in the bait shop, duh. I caught Pope and Cleo on top of the freezer once, and I’m pretty sure I saw Kiara making out with her ex-girlfriend behind the counter.”

You roll your eyes. “You are literally proving my point,” you say, and he scratches his head. 

“Well, I know for a fact that John B. and Sarah hooked up in the bait shop once and I didn’t see anything!” he explains.

“That’s not any better! You’re talking about my brother!” you whine, and JJ starts to see that you’re not budging. 

He lifts you up bridal-style into his arms, and you squeal. “Fine, my lady, my room it is.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck. “Have you cleaned it recently?” you ask, knowing how messy his room gets. 

“Uh… Like, maybe not super recently. But I can make it nice,” he offers.

You squint. “As nice as my room?”

“Yeah, let’s just go to yours,” he says, and you giggle at how easily he gives in. As he walks down the talk, carrying you in his arms, you can see a smirk grow on his face. “But after we’re done, it’ll be as dirty as mine.”

“JJ!”

so... what did y'all think? I might consider making a part two where john b. finds out. is that something y'all would be interested in??

also... feedback is very much appreciated - pls comment, reblog, send asks, etc.!

[emchante]

thighs

masterlist | requesting rules

summary: daniel notices how much you love his thighs, yet are too shy to mention it. he shows you what you've been missing by not telling him before now.

WARNINGS: 18+ content, thigh riding, use of good girl, slight dirty talk.

wc: 1.9k

a/n: hi!! i’m super excited to start posting on this blog. of course, the first post had to be dedicated to daniel and his thighs, so i hope you enjoy! requests are open, so if anyone has any prompts or ideas, please send them into my inbox! + a massive thank you to @thef1diary for beta reading this, and inspiring me to start the account.

daniel knew you loved his thighs, it wasn’t exactly a well kept secret. he was sure all of your friends knew too. your eyes wouldn’t leave the meat of his thighs when they were on display – which was often, god bless the extreme heat of most places you travelled to for making him wear shorts everyday.

it wasn’t something that you spoke about often though, in fact, daniel realised you had never really brought it up yourself. you were shy, didn’t really like bringing such things up yourself. daniel usually had to coax what you wanted out of you, and tonight wasn’t any different.

daniel trailed kisses from the nape of your neck, up your jaw until he reached your ear. he whispered sweet nothings to you, telling you how beautiful you were, how he would do anything you wanted. your face was on fire at the wet kisses, the sultry tone of his voice already starting a fire in your belly. you tilted your head to give him more access to your neck, but he pulled away from you, causing your eyes to follow him.

he moved his rose-inked hand to cup your jaw, allowing his thumb to gently stroke your cheek. you leaned into his hand, enjoying any and all touch you received from him. you only had your eyes shut momentarily before daniel gave your chin a squeeze, causing them to flutter open again.

“for me to give you what you want,” he started, his voice low. “you need to tell me exactly what it is.”

you smiled at his words. daniel, ever the gentlemen, always doing what you wanted. it was never any different. “i just want you, danny.”

daniel let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head as he looked down. you furrowed your brows, confused at his reaction. with a tilt of your head, you asked him what was so funny.

“you are,” he told you, looking back up. “always too shy to tell me what you want. always have to work for it to get it out, don’t i?” daniel explained, raising a brow with a grin. you felt your face heat up again, but it wasn’t due to arousal this time – not for the most part, anyways.

“what are you–” you had started to question him, but you cut yourself off with a surprised gasp as daniel moved you to sit on his right thigh. you looked to him for answers, but you were only met with a small smirk on daniel’s face.

“i see the way you look at my thighs, sweetheart,” he began to explain, moving his hands to rest on your hips. his thumbs rubbed small circles into them as he continued to speak to you. “you’re always looking when i’m in shorts, eyes always on me. you know how hard i get when i watch you squeeze your thighs together, all because you can’t contain yourself?”

your jaw dropped at daniel calling you out. you knew that you weren’t exactly subtle about your interest in his thighs, but his words made your full body heat up. you stuttered over your words, but you couldn’t get a coherent sentence out. all you managed to squeak out was a “sorry”, and it only made daniel laugh.

“sorry? for what?” he asked as he laughed, moving his right hand off of your hip to grab at your own. he moved it to rest on the fabric of his clearly straining shorts, making you gulp lightly. “you mustn't have heard me, your gaze gets me so fucking hard.”

you meekly nodded, not really sure how to respond to him. daniel knew what you were like though, he didn’t expect much else. he liked how shy you were, how easily flustered he managed to get you. moving his hand off of your own, he slowly ran it up your bare leg, allowing it to slip under your short skirt, smirking as his fingers grazed your clothed pussy.

“so wet for me,” he cooed, and you could only whine as his fingers were so close to where you needed them. you let yourself rut against his thigh once to show him you were desperate for him. daniel’s eyes darkened as he felt you move against his thigh, and he couldn’t contain the groan that left his throat.

slipping his fingers to move your underwear to the side, daniel’s left hand dragged you across his thigh once more to test it, and he couldn’t have landed the jackpot quicker. the feeling of your bare pussy against his thigh, starting to soak it due to how wet you were was all he needed.

“fuck, darling,” he moaned, his right hand moving back up to your hips so he could guide you through it. “you gonna ride my thigh? like a good girl?” he asked you, looking right into your eyes as he said it.

the friction of his thigh against your clit, along with the good girl caused a whine to escape your mouth. you nodded as you moved your hands onto his shoulders, gripping them tightly as you continued to rut against him, desperately lapping up the pleasure you got from your bare cunt against his tattooed thigh.

you suddenly came to a halt though, causing you to break out of the pleasure-bound spell you seemed to be entranced in. daniel’s brows were furrowed, his hands gripping your hips tightly so you weren’t able to continue your movements.

“danny please– let me move,” you pleaded with him, looking down at his thigh as you desperately tried to move your hips. his grip was too strong for you to fight against, and daniel only tutted, clicking his tongue to get your eyes to land on him.

“so now you can talk? i want verbal confirmation as soon as i ask you a question,” he told you, his hands squeezing your hips even tighter to make sure you understood. you were sure it was going to leave bruises tomorrow, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, in fact, the thought only turned you on more.

“i‘m sorry, dan,” you apologised, eyes pleading with him to continue so you could go back to what you were doing. he nodded, and repeated his question for you. “so, are you going to be a good girl and ride my thigh?” he asked you, eyes trained on your face.

you nodded again, but verbally confirmed it this time too. “yes, danny. i’ll ride your thigh,” you told him, making a small smile appear on his face. you tried to move your hips again, but daniel was still holding you in place. you whined in frustration, hopelessly trying to recreate the friction from moments ago but to no avail. he tutted, shaking his head at you.

“tell me you’ll be my good girl,” he commanded, eyes dark. one thing about daniel, he was always going to make you tell him you were a good girl. his good girl.

“going to be your good girl– but please dan, i need– your thigh again,” you plead, and if it wasn’t obvious by your constant attempts at grinding against your thigh, the urgency in your voice would’ve been a dead giveaway.

“alright gorgeous, you can have it,” he cooed, loosening the grip of his hands on your hips so you could move, but still holding them securely so he could help move you against him.

you couldn’t believe it had taken so long for this to happen, and it was so much better than any fantasy you ever had about it. each grind against his inked thigh sent sparks shooting throughout your body, the whimpers and moans escaping your lips were music to daniel’s ears as his dark, hungry eyes watched the way your body moved.

daniel groaned at the sight of your tits bouncing each time you rut against him, moving between watching them, and the facial expressions you were making due to the immense pleasure from his thigh alone.

“you look so perfect riding my thigh, sweetheart,” he started, making your eyes land back on his face as you focused on his words. “soaking it too, because of how fucking wet you are,” he groaned, and bit his lip at the moan you let out at his words.

he couldn’t stop himself from moving one of his hands up to your chest, toying with your hardened nipple through the fabric. the friction of the fabric, along with the touch of his thumb sent a streak of pleasure through you, head snapping back as you let out a guttural moan.

“can’t keep my eyes off these, either,” he continued, alternating between circling his thumb around your nipple, to squeezing the swell of your breast. “everything about you is perfect. made for me, weren’t you?” he asked, looking into your eyes for confirmation.

“made for you and you only, danny,” you sighed, panting as you felt yourself getting closer. daniel could tell too, your voice pitches up, and he feels your hand’s grip onto him tighter.

“such a good girl f’me. getting close, aren’t you?” he questioned, despite already knowing the answer. he just wanted to hear your needy, desperate voice say anything. you nodded frantically at him, high pitched whines escaping your throat.

“so– fuck, so close, dan” you breathlessly admitted, slightly angling your hips so your clit was getting more friction, and daniel knew you found a good angle when a sudden but pleasant moan escaped you.

daniel suddenly got an idea. “got an idea, sweetheart. it’s gonna help you feel even better, do you trust me?” he asked, waiting to see if you’d agree, or rather just let yourself finish like this. his eyes lit up when you squeaked out a please, hands gripping your waist a little tighter before he started to bounce his leg.

it was somehow better than before, a new experience which felt like absolute euphoria. you let out a shaky, breathy moan as your eyes rolled back, unable to control yourself any longer. daniel moved you back slightly, a little closer to his knee than his thigh, and it worked like magic, as it worked even better.

“fuck– yes, yes daniel–” you panted out, almost falling into the category of babbling due to how much you kept repeating almost incomprehensible chatter, too focused on the feeling of pleasure to respond properly.

“let go for me, c’mon. cum for me,” he coaxed you, feeling your thighs tighten around his own, before you came, chanting out daniel’s name as you rode your high. you immediately fell into daniel’s chest, body slouching as you sighed, smiling lazily when his arms wrapped around you.

it was silent for a while, the only noises being your heavy breaths until you recovered back to your normal state. daniel’s hand gently stroked up and down your back, leaving soft kisses on the crown of your head as he let you recover from your orgasm. you used your still shaky hands to push yourself up, meeting face-to-face with daniel as he smiled softly at you, leaning in to initiate a passionate kiss between you.

daniel carefully carried you into your shared bedroom not long afterwards, making sure you were a-okay before helping you get into fresh pajamas and getting you ready for bed. much to your dismay, of course, as you wanted him to clean himself up first, especially after the mess you made on his thigh, but daniel paid no mind to your whining, carrying on with his duties of making sure you were sorted for the night.

[crescenthistory]

hii 🫶🏻🫶🏻!

im not sure if you've written for james potter before, but if you're up for it, could i request d5 with him? i thought like, reader is a slytherin and she fooled around with barty while she was with james. also not sure if you're okay with writing cheating, (feel free to ignore this is you're not!)

hi lovie! thank you for your request<3 i don't vibe with cheating storylines, but this inspired me to write a one-shot of james pining for reader but thinking she's with barty because they're such close friends. i hope that still scratches your itch!

Prompt: D.5 "But do you love me?" changed into "But you are in love with me?"

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, slytherin!reader (sassy/feisty), use of y/n, james pov which includes relentless pining and silly comments, genuine yearning, miscommunication, bsf!barty, slight jealousy/envy, some self-deprecation, background skittles rosekiller and dorlene

The Boy with the Glasses is Blind

James could have kicked himself.

Despite what some professors insinuate, he is usually quite bright – he just so happens to prefer dedicating his intellect to good-willed humour and pranksting rather than gruelling essays that have already been written a thousand times before. He felt he had properly demonstrated his abilities for creativity and strategy with everything he had pulled off over the years, both the pranks he took credit for and the ones they were never able to pin on him.

Yet, here he was.

Sitting in the Transfiguration class shared by most Gryffindors and Slytherins in their year, where Professor McGonnagal in some horrific – in James' previous sentiments – attempt to bridge some gaps and mend some fences, seated a Slytherin and a Gryffindor together at every table. Sitting beside you, the one Slytherin he had never seemed to fully dislike nor target with his more insidious of pranks, but a Slytherin nonetheless, and attached at the hip with one Barty Crouch Junior.

Yes, here he was, sitting beside you and staring at you with what most look like cartoonish heart eyes.

It was not something he necessarily expected to happen, at least not to this extent. You had always held his interest, a fascinating person from who you were to how you spoke and where you placed yourself in society, but it was easily brushed off in the flurry of everything else that surrounded the young boy. In here, he couldn't escape you as easily, and once he realised just what he had been depriving himself of in his avoidance of you, he couldn't escape you even when you weren't around. To him, you were everywhere.

James Fleamont Potter was falling more head over heels in love with a Slytherin with every passing minute. Sirius would have kicked him blue and yellow had he dared open his mouth and voice what was running through his mind when he admired you. Though, James supposed, some of those thoughts were perhaps best never uttered out loud to anyone.

He really couldn't help himself, he thought, it was all your fault for being so sodding angelically flawless. From the first lesson when you playfully threatened him to "behave, Potter, and not soil my education with your unruliness" with that glimmer in your eyes that felt like it must have been reserved for him from a previous life, he has had to pick his jaw up from the floor whenever your eyes meet. The way you carried yourself with a lightheartedness and crackling self-assurance, the way your hair cascaded around you as you turned to him, the way your occasionally crude words towards him were softened by your exuberant tone, as if you took as much pleasure from your back-and-forth exchanges as he did, but with none of the guffawing – a stronger man would have faltered, and James had no qualms about admitting that for you, he was rather weak.

And then there was the way you grinned with your whole body whenever you spoke to your friends and your–

And therein lies the issue.

No gem can sparkle that brightly and not be picked up and admired. To anyone with eyes, let alone ears, it was painfully clear that one Barty Crouch Junior had already snatched up his Treasure, as he called you. James was too late.

The nickname felt tacky in James' mouth as he silently felt around it, trying to figure out what it would feel like to have you as he does. It felt too cheesy, not elegant enough for someone like you, not perfect enough, though James supposes nothing quite could be. Nor was he any better himself, angels and loves had already slipped from his tongue, only to be laughed away as a quip and not a confession – and he didn't even have the right to, not the way Junior did.

You were seated beside James, he could imagine himself feeling your body heat seeping through your clothes and into his if he inched even a centimetre or two closer to you. He could hear your laughter in his ears, he captured the smile in your eyes with his own as often as he could, but even here, within his direct vicinity, he saw the effect Barty had on you. How the two of you seemed to be able to communicate with limited words, mostly through glances and silly facial expressions from where he sat a few rows ahead, fully twisted in his chair to get a good look at you.

James couldn't blame him. It was how he wanted to turn around and stare at you whenever you were near him as well. That maniacal grin on Junior's lips was something James wanted to resent, but also wondered if he would be wearing himself, if he was allowed to brandish it on you.

Unlike Junior, though, he couldn't. James is not a jealous man, he felt he owed his father not to be, but there were few words to describe the sensation building in his throat other than envy. And, perhaps most painfully, a yearning so significant it ached its way through his bones until he was left pliable and broken.

"You with me, Potter?"

James' smile smacked right back onto his lips, albeit slightly more forced than normal as he forced his eyes away – from what he hoped seemed like Junior's general direction and not him specifically – to lock onto yours. There was a quizzical expression on your face and mirth playing over your lips, your soft, beautiful lips.

"Yeah," James made out hoarsely, clearing his throat. "Early mornin' s'all."

The mirth stretched out into a wide, teasing grin on your face, and although James was certain it was at his expense, it melted his own smile into a more genuine one. "Uh-huh. What's made you so tired? You're usually caffeine incarnated first thing in the morning."

"Are you saying you're missing my usual self, love?" Easy, easy, keep it easy.

"I'm saying you're suspicious," you replied with a gleam in your eyes. "Although, you always are. Perhaps it would be suspicious if you weren't behaving suspiciously."

James laughed a bit too loudly at that, warmth spreading in his stomach. "Don't go philosophical on me, L/N."

"I won't, if you don't go boring on me. Transfiguration's enough of a chore as it is."

Pride bloomed out of the spot envy inhabited in James' throat. Somehow he felt just as guilty for both of them, and was just as unable to suppress it as it flowed into his bloodstream.

"Well, when I know you're missin' me so, I can't very well let my best girl down, can I?"

"What a presumptuous young man," you say, words becoming a whisper as McGonnagal walks in to begin her lecture. Despite your smug smile as you said so, James couldn't help but feel slightly rattled at you pointing out the truth to him.

He righted himself in his seat and attempted to dedicate his attention to the Head of Gryffindor, which, unfortunately, he had never been good at even before his entire mind, body and soul seemed to be possessed by the stunner sitting beside him in class. His eyes kept darting over to you, smiling at your facial expressions, even more so when you occasionally caught his gaze with a smile of your own. A strand of hair fell out of your hairstyle as you cocked your head to look at him. James couldn't decide whether he wanted it to stay messy or if he wanted to be the one to tuck it back in for you. His hands remained drumming on the desk.

He attempted to focus up on the lecture, but poor Minnie's voice simply became droning to him when his nose was filled with the smell of you, making him slightly lightheaded. And Merlin, the way you were biting your lip while you took notes – it was an actual miracle he hadn’t melted into a puddle on the classroom floor by now.

Then, his attention was abruptly captured by a small piece of parchment whirring right past his face to force itself into your hand on the desk. You were shaking, smiling over the lip you were still biting as you opened it.

James – in a totally cool non-creepy fashion, of course – tried to get a good luck at the note, but couldn't without giving it away. What he definitely could tell, though, was how Junior was snickering at you over his shoulder like a hyena. Not the borderline scary snicker James had been victim of before, but a fond one, like you were sharing a secret together just the two of you.

Unable to watch more of your reaction, James looked back onto the desk, willing himself away.

You were never one to allow him reprieve, giving him a discreet poke with your wand. When he looked up, your head was in your hand and you were leaning your head sideways to look at him. “Daydreaming again, Potter?” you whispered.

His cheeks burned. “Not a chance,” he responded a bit too quickly, causing you to smile in delight as you leaned closer to him. His heart gave a particularly hard thud at that.

“Are you sure? Because you’ve been staring at my notes for a few minutes, and last I checked, you don’t even take notes. So it's clearly no ruse to copy me.”

“I take notes!" James tried to retort, but when you levelled him with a stare he just smiled indulgently at you instead. "Occasionally."

"Yeah, you're a total swot, babe," you laughed quietly, shooting McGonnagal a quick glance to make sure you're still being discreet.

He knows you're messing with him, he knows it's just colloquialism, but he would have paid embarrassing amounts for you to call him that again.

"Very well might be, you're quite contagious, angel." The slight snort that escaped you at that probably made his day.

“Uh-huh,” you said softly, for the second time that lesson. “Whatever you say, Gryffindor.”

By the grace of Godric, McGonagall dismissed class before James combusted like he thought he would. He exhaled in relief, but it was short-lived as his nerves shot up as you began to pack your stuff, knowing he won't see you again until dinner. Not that he had memorised your schedule, or anything.

He opened his mouth, hoping to think of something clever and smooth to keep your attention for even a second longer, when your usual company approached your shared desk. He heard Junior's laugh before he saw him, eyes still trained on you, and when he turned Barty, Dorcas and Evan had formed some circle around you, chattering away with a casualness he rarely witnessed up close.

“Tomorrow’s going to be incredible,” Dorcas exclaimed almost-giddily, pulling her scarf up around her neck. “I can't wait to let off some steam finally."

“Oh, I'm sure you will, Cas,” you replied teasingly, pointing a finger at her teasingly. "Asked a certain blonde to join you yet?"

"How about you mind your business, Missy?" She shot back trying to shove your face away, but you dodged, using James' arm as a shield. He felt like a mannequin the way he stood beside you, almost dumbly, frozen by the exchange.

Evan just snickered. “Good luck prying Barty away from the game section, he's still pissy about last time."

"You mean when he gambled away all–" Dorcas was shut up with a quick silencio from Barty, which she quickly fought through and stuck her tongue out at him for.

"Hearsay and goss, I tell you!" Barty declared, shoving Evan aside to come stand beside you, arm circling around your waist. "I almost didn't go this year, I'm only joining because Treasure here practically threatened me to."

"Yeah, how dare you even consider leaving me to the wolves," you retorted to him at the same time as Dorcas murmurs something about "yeah, didn't wanna go because you lost so bad".

"Nah, we can't have that," Barty agreed with you while shooting Dorcas a glare, and then he – to James' utter pain and heartbreak – pressed a kiss to the top of your head while squeezing your hip.

Nevermind that it was a quick kiss, nevermind that you laughed at him. James just saw lips against skin.

Now that Junior was basically cuddling you standing up (James wanted no corrections calling this description an exaggeration), James had gravitated further away from you. He may have lost his mind with this whole lovesickness, but he respected you, your choices and your space. With the way you were throwing your head back laughing with your friends about some plans James didn't even know about, he knew he was not wanted nor needed here.

Pulling his bag closer towards his body, he gave a quick nod to no one in particular and turned around, headed towards the door.

"James, wait up!"

Your voice cut through his mind's ramblings, as it always does, and your use of his first name brought flowers to his vision once more. He turned around, hoping to look mostly casual but he's sure his face was an open book. His eyes zeroed in on you walking towards him, leaving your group of friends and Junior behind, but he heard a telltale laughter and he hoped it wasn't at how stupidly in love he looked with someone he could never have.

James blinked at you in confusion as you stopped before him, but you just wore the simplest smile on your face.

“Want to take a walk with me?” you asked, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"What?" he asked dumbly.

There was mirth in your gaze when you repeated your question. "We both have a free period now, I usually spend it in our common room. But I'm asking if you want to take a walk with me instead?"

James had to physically restrain himself from replying "I know" when you disclosed your habit, while also wondering how and why you came to know his schedule.

He managed to sputter out a response. “Yeah, yes, of course.” He couldn’t quite stop the grin from spreading across his face, and he felt a bit like an overeager puppy, but you didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you looked rather pleased, which only made his heart race faster.

"Enthusiasm gets you everywhere, Potter," you responded calmly, falling into step with him as you led him out of the classroom, leading him down the less-frequented hallways. The road less travelled by.

The two of you strolled down the corridor, side by side, with the chilly autumn breeze filtering through an open window. James wanted to say something witty, something that would make you laugh, but he was mostly in his head, confused about everything that transpired the past few minutes.

"What's that about the fair?" He decided that was safe territory, though he feared having you recount all your plans with Junior there.

"Oh, you have no idea," you started excitedly. James pretended it didn’t cut a bit that he had no idea. "It's this annual fair that Pandora – you know, Rosier – discovered back in fourth. It's got the weirdest, coolest booths and games you'll ever see, with performances from unique professionals. It usually changes every year, last time it was a fire manipulator and a necromancer."

Upon James' quirked brow at you finding fire and necromancy the coolest, you continued. "Come on, you Marauders would have loved it. There's prank ideas and props to last you for months. And there's great food as well."

"Okay, okay," James laughed as he maintained eye contact with you. "I believe you, sounds fun. I hope you guys enjoy it."

If James wasn't as bright as he was, he might have mistook the flash of emotion across your face as a small bout of uncertainty or insecurity.

"Actually, that's something I wanted to ask you about," you started, trailing off as you stopped by one of the larger windows in the hallway, leaning against the windowsill. He followed your example, attention wholly on you. "We have this tradition, my friends and I, that we use the fair as an opportunity to challenge ourselves in some way, do something that... I guess something that scares us."

James just nodded, keeping his attention on you as his heart beats in his chest. Your smile turned a bit rueful.

"That's actually what I was messing with Cas about earlier," you continued. "She's finally asking your friend Marlene out on a date, to go with her to the fair."

That's what you wanted to talk about? James admired you almost more for how dedicated you were to your friends.

"I can tell you without a doubt that Marls would say yes," he reassured you with a smile. "Those two have been a work in progress for ages."

"For so long, it's been physically painful to witness," you laughed. That sound is anything but painful to witness.

James hummed in response, laughter rumbling through his chest as he continued to take you in, scanning your face.

"What are you doing that scares you?" he asked before he could stop himself.

You took a deep breath, chin up in that almost defiant way as you held his gaze. "I'm actually following in Dorcas' footsteps... or I guess perhaps beating her to it, seeing as she hasn't yet."

James blinked at you, clueless as to what you're leading up to.

"I wondered if you wanted to go with me to the fair?"

He felt as if he had been slapped in the face and like he was coming up for air after a long snog. He didn't really know what he felt, just that it was a lot, too much, even for him.

"I'd love to," he blurted out with a breath, words scrambling together. Then, his brows furrowed in confusion as he tried to understand your sentence. "I mean– with me, are you sure? Aren't you going with, erm, with Junior?"

You gave him a puzzled look, cocking your head at him as if he had said something entirely irrelevant. "What do you mean?"

James looked sheepish and couldn’t quite meet your gaze over the sound of his own heart breaking. "I mean, it would be really nice to go with you to the fair, anywhere really, but wouldn't Junior mind?"

"Barty–" You cut yourself off, still looking confused. "Barty's the one who's been encouraging me to ask you out, actually. What are you on about?"

"Why?" was all James could breathe out, world unravelling in a way that made his stomach twist with painful hope.

"Um, because I like you? And unless I have suddenly lost all my interpretation skills, I am quite certain you've been fond of me for quite some time too, Potter."

"I am, but– wait– you are? What?" James guffawed. His intense confusion irritated his skin apparently because he had a sudden urge to scratch the back of his neck, his upper arms and pretty much any other piece of flesh. Maybe the embarrassment could be peeled off that way.

Despite it all, you laughed heartily and, what James was beginning to realise, bemusedly maybe even adoringly at his failure to speak. It seemed like you had pieced together everything he couldn't.

"Yeah, I like you, you sod. Think I just flirt with everyone?"

An "I hope not" lies on the tip of his tongue, but instead he shook his head in admonishment.

"Snake's got your tongue, babe?" you asked him, taking a taunting step closer.

"Looks like it," James mumbled, eyes zeroed in on your face as heat rose to his own. Growing bolder in your declaration, he continued, "I suppose I'm just confused. I always thought you were with Junior? That you two were... in love."

The last words brought a grimace to his lips, like it pained him to say. As if on instinct, your hand shot forward to wipe beneath his bottom lip to coax the frown off his face. His lips parted in shock and suspense at your touch and when you seemed to realise what you had done, you pulled your hand back quickly. You had the decency to look slightly flustered after that, allowing him some semblance of a more even playing field.

"No, James," you whispered with a smile as you shook your head. "Barty is my best friend and I love him with my whole heart. But I never have, and never will be in love with him. Him and Evan have been an item for, like, ages."

Finally, a brilliant smile – one you would later describe to him "shone like the sun" to which he attacked you with kisses because "that's so sodding cute of you to say, you sappy romantic" – took over his face.

Without thinking, he stepped closer to you, hand coming up to brush carefully against your cheek as you looked wide-eyed at his positivity and adoration now radiating off of him. "But you're in love with me?" he whispered with rapture, up to speed at last.

It took you a moment before you chuckled lightly, sheepishly looking down at your feet before once more meeting his piercing gaze.

"How about we start with that date, and see where it goes from there, huh pretty boy?"

So, yes, James most certainly could have and probably should have kicked himself – but right now, he found that he had other business he would much rather attend to.

[streamsofmoon]

18+ | vi x f!reader

synopsis: vi's perspective to the pizza delivery guy before the delivery.

a/n: i'm happy that you all enjoyed the pizza delivery guy fic and at your request, here is a part two!

part 1

vi has noticed how the pizza delivery guy looks at you. how his eyes linger longer than they should when he's passing off the order. how he tries so hard to make you laugh, taking your polite giggles as success.

it used to irk vi before; she's quite protective of you. some might even say possessive would be the right word. you're hers to have and to hold, to kiss and to fuck, to love until the end of eternity. no one in their right mind would ever threaten that.

but then it got interesting.

"what's this?" vi asks, showing a napkin that has a phone number on it. there's also a name but vi can't be fucked to care about it. you had just ordered from that pizza place and of course, pizza delivery guy had been the one to bring it.

you're busy chewing on a mouthful of cheesy goodness, cheeks adorably bunched up, as you make a questioning noise. then you’re swallowing, looking at the number with a tilt of your head.

"oh, that's odd," you say before taking another bite of your slice. "i'm guessing it's from the delivery guy."

vi scowls. "yeah, no shit," she murmurs, balling up the napkin with a little more strength than necessary. "that's bold of him. what did he think was gonna happen?"

"that i'd call him?" you reply innocently, licking pizza sauce off your fingers. "he doesn't know i'm taken. you're usually hiding in the back or coming home from work when the pizza arrives. so he's probably taking his shot." you shrug, a mischievous smile curving your lips. "why, you threatened?"

vi snorts loudly, instantly rolling her eyes as she shoves some pizza into her mouth. she doesn't say anything else, though, which prompts you to crawl into her lap. which vi immediately makes space for as she sets her plate to the side.

"you know you're my one and only, right?" you say softly, looking at her with adoring eyes. "as if i'd ever fall for anyone else when i have you looking at me."

"i know," vi murmurs, greasy hands going to squeeze at your waist. "you're just as obsessed with me as i am with you."

"exactly," you whisper, leaning to plant a kiss against her mouth. a kiss that turns deep with her tongue licking into your mouth, teeth tugging at your bottom lip as you moan into it.

that solidifies vi's slightly shaken resolve; something that shouldn't have been shaken in the first place.

but the thing is that you're so amazing; you're everyone's dream girl. you're beautiful and fantastic, you've got a heart of gold. you make vi love every single day because she knows that you exist. the fact that other people are attracted to you isn't a shock, but other people know to stay away from you. because she's always there by your side, sending off warnings to anyone who dare come close.

this is the first time someone has broken through her barrier, and it genuinely stings.

the barrier needs to be rebuilt again��stronger this time.

so vi orders pizza again a week later, knowing the pizza delivery guy will show up without fail. then she times thirty minutes and begins the plan that's been simmering in her head for days.

you're in the living room, curled up on the couch as you scroll through your phone. something's firmly captured your attention, allowing vi to descend on you without alerting you. there's barely any time to yelp when vi grabs your phone, tosses it on a cushion, and gets flat on your back.

"vi—?" you try, cutely puzzled, but a gasp escapes you when skilled fingers slide your panties to the side. "oh..." your mouth drops open, a tiny moan at the back of your throat as vi presses two fingers in.

vi groans at your warmth, slightly wet, as she uses her thumb to tease at your clit. your hips jump at the touch, your thighs parting wider for vi to slip between them. "good girl," she praises sweetly. "always ready to open up for me. already getting so wet from my touch."

"fuck," you whimper, slowly starting to roll your hips into the push and pull of vi's thrusts. "yes, a-always for you..."

"that's my baby," vi coos, her thrusts getting sharper and meaner. every thrust creating a shlick and squlech to show just how soaked your cunt has become.

she makes you cum once and fucks you through until you're cumming again, back arched and thighs trembling. you're crying when she expertly pushes you into another orgasm, too fast and rough enough that it makes you squirt all over her fingers and some of the couch.

"vi, i—" you choke on your next words, eyes rolling back as vi stakes her claim on your neck. as she digs her teeth into the bolt of your jaw, panting into your skin as her own hips rut into the couch below.

all it takes is thirty minutes until there's a knock on the door.

the pizza has arrived, and you're struggling to grasp at some semblance of sense. vi leaves you on the couch with a kiss and answers the door with your slick still on her hands.

the guy looks at her in shock, taking her in, and vi's pleased to see the barely hidden terror in his eyes.

"do i owe you anything?" she asks nonchalantly, knowing damn well she doesn't. but she's enjoying this too much to let it end quickly.

then, as if you hadn't just been fingerfucked through the couch, you appear in all your freshly fucked glory. you whine to her that you're hungry and you're a beautiful dirty mess, covered in her marks with thighs slicked from your release. you greet him happily, oblivious to his shock as he takes you in.

vi knows he knows, judging by how he stares down at your thighs when you take the pizza box. the oversized shirt lifting just enough to tease what lies underneath.

as you leave, vi notes how his eyes don't leave you, and this is where she rebuilds that barrier even stronger than before.

"watch your eyes next time," she threatens, meaning it with her entire soul.

then she slams the door in his face.

[valentine-cafe]

hello (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

I'm sure ur inbox is probably brimming with requests rn, so I'm just gonna slip this in and u can take ur time with it!

[Top male] reader who's usually gentle in bed but had to go through a day full of misfortune that got him stressed, and he channels that into pounding the characters hard? When he comes back to himself, he feels so guilty and remains minimal contact with the characters for a few days. (⁠>⁠▽⁠<⁠)

The orders will be tiramisu, affogato and croissant! though, I'm not sure if the characters fit the prompt so feel free to change them out for another. (⁠╯⁠︵⁠╰⁠,⁠)

And if I haven't lost your interest, may I be so blunt to ask to take up the 📖 anon? If that isn't taken, of course.

Thank you dearly! ♡

˖⁺. “ stress fuck ! ” : 

﹙ multi bttm m. characters x frustrated top male reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . various bttm male characters !! 🍒 : 

you're typically so gentle with him . . . but after a bad day - you can't help but come back and fuck him senseless 

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ penetrative sex ˖ rough sex ˖ degradation ˖ some angst | wc : 1.8k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: here you go! hope you enjoy this! and of course you can be our 📖 anon <3

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

﹙ Alessio 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : He prefers it rough. Prefers his eyes rolled back into his skull and nails dragged down your back. Prefers the loud slapping and lewd moans pouring through the room as you manhandle him. Him. A 6’7”, highly trained mercenary. Have you any idea how fucking hot that is?

So when you were pounding away at his tight ass and spewing your degradation to his ear. Well, let’s just say that your cock ramming up his prostate was not the only thing sending him to cloud nine. The very notion that his soft-as-a-feather boyfriend was using him as a cocksleeve was enough to have him creaming all over himself.

Your hands left bruises on his olive skin. Ones that took his breath away when he looked at the mirror the morning after. His throat whispered memories of your tight grip stealing his breath away. Making him cling. Making him keen.

And then. . . you went distant. What the hell was that all about?

Alessio has never been good at no contact. Not texting you goodnight drives him insane as is. So don’t be too surprised when he’s crawling through your window at some ungodly hour to find out what the hell is going on.

“You - feel bad for fucking me?”

His half-hung eyes are wide for once. Before his hands grab at your shoulders and hoist you in. “You’re kidding right? Baby - I loved it.”

The puppy-eyed look he gives you is enough to melt your stubbornness. You sheepishly explain the entire situation and behold his frown. It doesn’t take much more until his arms are around you and toppling your body into the plush of couch cushions.

“No seas idiota.” ( “Don’t be an idiot” ) he huffs into your neck that he nuzzles up. “I just want you to do what you need, amore. None of that. Especially not for giving me the night of my life, yeah?” He pulls back to stare you down and then gives you a little peck when you nod.

﹙ Vespasiano 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍓 : It’s no secret that Vespasiano has almost always been on the giving end in a relationship. Not to mention his lack of experience when it comes to men — so he’s still growing accustomed to being with you. His lovely boyfriend. Who also tops him. With that in mind, he quite appreciates your gentle hands and tender pace whenever he finds himself beneath you.

With that being said, he didn’t mind getting his ass ploughed that night you came home full of huffs and tensions. Even with his shock when you had suddenly buried your hand into his hair and forced his head into the pillows. When you started grunting and calling him a whore - splitting him open and making his eyes roll back.

He doesn’t thin anyone has ever fucked him out so much before. You got him to whine. Got him to whimper. Stutter and tell you it’s too much. Him. A man of his age, his experience.

The morning after, while the ache in his body and the realisation of what occurred still left him shocked, pleasure bubbled over his entire being. That felt. . . amazing.

Then came your distance. Anxiety swelled in his chest all over again. He can’t handle that. He’s dealt with it too many times from his ex wife. This sends him right back to the panic of uncertainty. Did he do something wrong? Were you mad at him?

He’s not going to bother with calling. He knows it never gets anywhere. So he’s showing up to your doorstep with big eyes while trying to keep it all together.

“Tesoro. . . did I do something? Talk to me, please.”

He’s collapsing into you before you know it. The guilt in your heart has you spilling everything which leaves him confused through his endless kisses all over your face.

“Too rough? Please. Do you think ‘m glass? I’m sixty-six, baby.” He’s chuckling against your ear despite his shaky demeanor. Cupping at your face and letting out a soft croon. “Nonsense. Is it new? Yeah. Do I hate it? Fuck no.”

He hooks you onto his lap soon after and shoots you a look of concern. “If anything I’m more worried ‘bout that bad day of yours. Won’t you talk to me?”

 

﹙ Jìngyí 209. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : He’s so used to his tender and gentle loverboy that the second you had him pinned down to the marble kitchen counter and fucking him to delirium — he almost thought he was dreaming.

He’s so accustomed to whispering sweet nothings to your ear, telling you how good you are, what a great job you’re doing. The last thing he expected was to have that replaced by your ragged voice muttering curses rough praises to his neck. Your nails clawing down his skin. Your hands making use of his flexible, snake-like body. With coils, pins, rough handles all over.

With all his work stress, of course he was all for you fucking him dumb and limp into the sheets. What he could not understand, however, was the sudden distance you put up after the morning of softness. Where he clung to you and murmured how much you had completely wrecked him the night before.

Good luck trying to remain distant from Mister Zhao, however. You’d find yourself confronted the second you avoided his call to check on your wellbeing.

He’s at your workstep before you can so much as blink. Pulling you off somewhere quiet and giving you a look through those amber, slitted eyes of his that told you to talk. Truthfully.

“You know how much I hate being ignored. . . sweetheart, what is the matter?”

All you can do is break when his tender hand caresses your face. Thumb rubbing below your eye while you sniffle over your rough day. How it resulted in you taking it out on him —- how bad you felt about it.

You catch his narrow-eyed stare. The look of disbelief and concern that melted through the prior irritation from your avoidance. He’s pulling you into his arms and tucking your head beneath his chin with a small frown.

“Silly boy. . . if I had an issue with it, do you not think I would have stopped you? Please, take it easy on yourself.”

You’ll have a quiet and calm day with him throughout. Anything to show you that he is fine, and so are you.

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[simplygojo]

You Have To Earn It

Author's Note: Hi lovely people!! I hope everyone is having a good October so far!! We are halfway through it now!! Anywho, this is a mash up of a few Megumi Kimnktober requests I've recieved! I HOPE YOU ENJOY PLS LMK IF YOU LIKE IT!!

The only requests I am accepting for the Month of October are from my Kinktober Prompt List, thank you <33

Pairing: College AU!Megumi Fushiguro x f!reader

Kinks: Edging, Overstimulation & Brat Taming

Word Count: 3K

Kinktober Taglist: @nanamisrighthand; @simplyyyuji; @megumisdivinedogs; @lovleyredheadfairy

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, MDNI, fingering, oral (f receiving), name calling (brat & baby), light spanking, physical overstimulation, aggressive sex.

The Halloween party was packed, the heavy bass of the music pulsing through the walls, mingling with the sound of laughter and chatter. 

You made your way through the throng of partygoers, dressed in a skin-tight Catwoman costume that left little to the imagination. 

The leather bodysuit hugged your curves perfectly, every step making the black fabric stretch and gleam under the dim lights. The zipper was pulled down just enough to reveal the curve of your cleavage, teasing anyone who dared to look too closely.

But there was only one person you were interested in teasing tonight—your boyfriend, Megumi Fushiguro.

You caught sight of him across the room, leaning against the wall in that effortlessly cool way of his. 

He wasn’t one for extravagant costumes, so he’d settled for a simple yet striking look: a black t-shirt and jeans, with a Batman mask pushed up slightly on his head, resting just above his sharp blue eyes. 

Even from a distance, you could feel the intensity of his gaze as it followed you around the room, even through his usual grumpy appearance.

And you had every intention of pushing him to his limit tonight.

You slid past him, brushing your fingers lightly across his chest as you moved to grab a drink. 

“Oops,” you said with a smirk, glancing over your shoulder at him. Megumi's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing beneath the mask.

“Y/n,” he murmured in a low voice that sent shivers down your spine, “stop being a brat.”

But you didn’t stop. You were far from done. 

Throughout the night, you made sure to find him, to get close enough that your body brushed against his. 

A hand resting on his thigh for just a moment too long, your fingers grazing his waist as you passed by, the occasional press of your hips into his when the crowd forced you together. 

Each time, you felt the tension in his body build, the way his muscles tightened beneath your touch.

“Y/n,” Megumi growled softly after the fifth or sixth time you ‘accidentally’ bumped into him. His voice was deeper now, rougher with frustration. 

“You’re pushing it.”

You shot him a playful grin, biting your lip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His eyes darkened, and you knew you had him right where you wanted him. But instead of backing off, you pushed a little more. 

The next time you passed by, you ran your fingers up his chest, your touch lingering on his collarbone before you turned away with a teasing sway of your hips.

That was the last straw.

Megumi’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist in a firm grip. 

“We’re leaving,” he said, his voice low and commanding. 

The low hum of the party music faded as he led you down a quiet hallway, away from the eyes of the crowd. 

His heart pounded against his ribs, not from nervousness but from the tightly coiled tension of wanting to punish you for making him wait this long. 

His restraint was razor-thin, and he knew it. With every step closer to the bedroom, Megumi could feel the thrill of dominance rising in his chest, the anticipation building to a point where it almost made him dizzy.

She’s been a brat all night. Teasing me in front of everyone like that... He couldn’t help the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as his grip on you tightened. 

She has no idea what she’s in for.

Megumi pushed open the door with more force than necessary, his hand still locked around your wrist as he pulled you inside. 

The quiet click of the door behind you felt like the final signal—the game was over.

And now, it was his turn.

He pushed you up against the cold door, pinning you there with his body.

“You’ve been acting like a fucking brat all night,” he growled, his face inches from yours, the heat of his breath fanning over your lips. 

His hand slid up to your throat, not squeezing, but just enough to remind you who was in control. 

“You think you can tease me and get away with it?”

You swallowed hard, feeling a delicious mix of excitement and nerves coil in your stomach. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, as you looked up at him through your eyelashes despite your pulse quickening under his intense gaze.

Megumi’s lips curled into a wicked smirk as he leaned in closer, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. “Ohh, you’re going to regret all of that.”

His hand moved from your throat down to the zipper of your bodysuit, yanking it down in one swift motion. 

The cold air hit your exposed skin, making you shiver as he pulled the fabric over your shoulders, letting it fall to your waist. 

His hands were rough as they grabbed your breasts, squeezing them as his mouth crashed against yours in a heated, possessive kiss.

Your body arched into him, desperate for more, but Megumi wasn’t going to give it to you that easily. 

He pulled away from the kiss, spinning you around and pressing your chest against the door. 

His hands moved to your hips, yanking down the rest of your bodysuit until it pooled around your ankles, leaving you bare in front of him except for the tiny black thong you wore underneath.

“You want to act like a slut?” Megumi’s voice was dark and commanding as he pressed his hips against your ass, letting you feel how hard he was. 

“Then I’m gunna fuckin’ treat you like one.”

Before you could respond, his fingers slipped between your legs, brushing over the thin fabric of your panties. 

You were soaked, and he knew it. 

His touch was teasing, barely there, and you whimpered as your hips pushed back, silently begging for more.

But Megumi wasn’t going to give you what you wanted—not yet.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his breath hot against your neck as his fingers continued their slow, torturous teasing. 

“So desperate already.” He pushed your panties to the side, his fingers sliding through your slick folds but never giving you the pressure you needed. 

"You're going to be begging to cum when I'm done with you"

Your body trembled under his touch, the frustration mounting as he continued to edge you closer and closer to the brink, only to pull back before you could fall over the edge. 

“Megumi, please,” you whimpered, your voice desperate, your hips grinding back against him as your arousal soaked his fingers.

But he just chuckled darkly, pulling his hand away completely, leaving you trembling and aching. 

“Not yet,” he muttered, his tone laced with dark satisfaction. “You have to earned it.”

Before you could protest, you felt his strong arm hook around your waist, effortlessly lifting you off the ground like you weighed nothing. 

The sudden movement made you gasp, your hands instinctively grabbing onto his shoulders for balance as he carried you across the room with ease, his fingers digging into your skin possessively.

Megumi’s grip was firm, his muscles taut beneath his black t-shirt as he lowered you onto the bed with deliberate care, like a predator positioning his prey. 

The rough fabric of his jeans brushed against your bare legs as he stood over you, his blue eyes dark with lust, the Batman mask now casting shadows across his sharp features.

His blue eyes were dark with desire as he spread your legs apart, his touch commanding, every movement making your pulse race. 

The anticipation built within you, a knot of heat twisting tighter with every second that passed. 

You were already desperate for him, but you knew that was exactly what he wanted—your need driving you to the brink.

His hand slid between your legs again, this time teasing your swollen clit with the lightest of touches. It wasn’t enough, but it sent a spark of pleasure shooting through you, leaving you arching off the bed.

“Megumi, please,” you whimpered, your hips bucking against his hand in search of more pressure. 

But he pulled back, his touch retreating just when you thought he’d finally give you what you craved.

“No,” he murmured darkly, his lips curling into a smirk as he leaned down, brushing them over the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of soft, teasing kisses. 

“This is your punishment for misbehaving tonight.”

Your body trembled under him, the frustration mounting as he moved lower, his mouth trailing down your chest, sucking lightly on the sensitive spot between your breasts. 

His hands were everywhere—one moment gripping your waist, the next tracing soft circles on your thighs. 

Every touch set your nerves on fire, but none of it was enough to push you over the edge. 

He was toying with you, edging you, making you feel like you were about to come, only to stop before you could find release.

Megumi’s fingers slid back between your legs, this time stroking you with a maddeningly slow rhythm. 

Each brush of his thumb over your clit sent shocks of pleasure through you, building you up only to pull back again. 

Your breath came in ragged gasps, your hips grinding against his hand, desperate for more, but he was relentless in keeping you right on the edge.

“Look at you,” he whispered against your skin, his voice filled with dark amusement. 

“So needy—so desperate. You’ve been fuckin’ begging for it all night, haven’t you?”

You whimpered and nodded in response, your body trembling with the overwhelming need for him. 

His hand left your clit, instead running his fingers up your inner thigh, feather-light touches that sent you spiraling. 

He moved to your breasts, squeezing and kneading before his fingers found your nipples, pinching them just hard enough to make you gasp.

Your body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending buzzing with sensitivity as he overstimulated you with the constant teasing touches, never letting you rest, never giving you enough. 

The pleasure was intense, almost too much, your head spinning as you moaned beneath him.

“Megumi, please,” you begged again, your voice trembling, barely able to get the words out. 

“I can’t—”

“Oh, you can,” he interrupted, his voice low and dark as his mouth found your neck again, biting down hard enough to leave a mark, provoking a small yelp from your lips. 

He kept you right there, on the brink, overstimulating you with the relentless teasing, the way he touched you everywhere—your thighs, your breasts, your neck, your clit—keeping your body trembling and overwhelmed with pleasure.

“You’re going to come when I tell you to, not a second sooner.”

His fingers returned to your clit, and this time, the pressure was more firm, more direct. 

Tears pricked at your eyes from the intensity, your body shaking as you writhed beneath him, desperate for release but helpless against the way he controlled every inch of you. 

He reveled in it, in the power he had over you, his dark gaze drinking in the way you trembled, the way you whimpered his name like a broken plea.

“Y’know baby you really can be a fuckin’ brat sometimes, this is just necessary,” he growled against your ear, his hand sliding back to your clit, his fingers rubbing slow, torturous circles that had your body tightening again, so close yet so far from release. 

“And I’m not done yet.”

Your mind was a haze of pleasure and frustration, every inch of your body sensitive to his touch as he kept pushing you to the edge, only to pull back again. 

“Megumi,” you gasped, your voice breaking, “I need you—please.”

He chuckled darkly, his mouth hot against your skin. “Beg for it.”

“I’m begging,” you whimpered, tears slipping down your cheeks as your hips bucked against his hand. “Please, please, let me come.”

He kissed down your body, his mouth hot and slow as he made his way lower, his fingers never stopping their torturous teasing against your clit. 

Your hips bucked involuntarily, chasing the release he kept denying you, the need almost painful now. 

You were trembling, tears of frustration pricking your eyes, but he was relentless, refusing to give you what you so desperately craved.

And then, without warning, his mouth was on you.

You gasped as his tongue slid through your slick folds, lapping at you with a hunger that made your whole body quake. 

His tongue was skilled, teasing your clit with soft, deliberate strokes before pulling away just enough to keep you on the edge. 

Every time you felt yourself getting close, he’d change the pace, edging you with a precision that left you breathless and desperate.

Your hands flew to his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands as your hips bucked against his face, but he held you firmly in place, his grip on your thighs tightening. 

“Can you just be paitent,” he growled, pulling back just enough to speak before diving back in, his tongue swirling around your clit in maddening circles.

His fingers joined the assault, sliding into you, pumping slowly as his mouth worked on your clit, his thumb pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves in sync with his tongue. 

The overstimulation was overwhelming—pleasure surged through you in waves, but he kept you right on the brink, never letting you fall over the edge.

“Megumi, please,” you whimpered, your voice broken, your body trembling under his relentless touch. 

Tears slid down your cheeks, your need for release so intense it hurt, but Megumi only smirked against your skin, his fingers and tongue switching positions as he sucked hard on your throbbing clit.

“You’re going to come when I say,” he murmured between strokes of his tongue, his voice low and rough with dark satisfaction. “Not before.”

His fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made your back arch off the bed. 

His tongue flicked faster against your clit, but still, he kept you from coming, pulling back just enough each time to keep you on the edge, teasing you until you were shaking beneath him, barely able to hold on.

And then, just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he gave you exactly what you wanted.

His mouth latched onto your clit, sucking hard as his fingers drove into you, and the pleasure that ripped through you was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. 

You cried out his name, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you clawed at the sheets beneath you.

But Megumi didn’t stop.

His mouth and fingers kept working, overstimulating you, until you were gasping, writhing beneath him.

“Too much,” you whimpered, but your plea fell on deaf ears. 

By the time he finally pulled away, you were a trembling mess, barely able to catch your breath. But he wasn’t done with you yet. 

He stood up, his gaze dark and filled with hunger as he undid his pants, yanking them down in one swift motion. 

His cock was hard and thick, the tip already glistening with precum as he stroked himself, his eyes scanning your naked body.

“You think I’m done with you?” Megumi growled, positioning himself between your legs. 

“I’m just getting started.”

Before you could respond, he grabbed your hips, flipping you onto your stomach with a rough tug. 

You barely had time to adjust before he pulled you up onto your hands and knees, gripping your waist as he lined himself up with your entrance.

Without warning, he slammed into you, his cock stretching you in one brutal thrust. 

You cried out, the sudden fullness almost too much after everything he’d already put you through, but the sharp sting quickly gave way to intense pleasure as he started to move, his hips snapping against yours with a punishing pace.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you knew you’d bruise. 

He was rough, relentless, fucking you like he was punishing you for teasing him all night. 

Each thrust sent shockwaves through your body, the overstimulation making everything feel more intense, more overwhelming.

You were seeing stars at this point, your body trembling as he fucked you, his cock driving deep with every thrust. 

His hand slid around your waist, finding your clit again, and you nearly screamed as he started rubbing slow, torturous circles, pushing you toward another orgasm even though your body was already wrecked from the previous ones.

“Megumi,” you gasped, your voice breaking as your legs trembled beneath you, but he didn’t let up, fucking you harder, deeper, his thumb pressing against your clit with just enough pressure to make you lose your mind.

But just as you felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening in your stomach, he pulled out, leaving you empty and whining. 

“Megumi!” you gasped, your body trembling with frustration. “Please, I’m so close—”

“Not yet,” he growled, his hand coming down on your ass with a sharp smack that made you yelp. 

“You don’t get to come until I say so.”

He drove into you again, rough and relentless, his hand tangling in your hair as he yanked your head back, forcing you to look at him. 

Tears of frustration welled in your eyes, your body trembling with the overwhelming need to cum. 

“Megumi, please,” you begged, your voice broken and desperate. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just—please—”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of teasing and edging, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, 

Now you can come,” he whispered, thrusting into you again with a force that sent you spiraling into your release. 

Your body convulsed beneath him, your orgasm hitting you with such intensity that you couldn’t even form words, only gasping and moaning his name as you clenched around him.

Megumi followed soon after, his pace quickening as he chased his own release, spilling inside you with a low, guttural groan. 

He held you there, buried deep inside, as you both caught your breath, the room filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing.

After a moment, he pulled out, his hands sliding gently down your back, his touch soft now.

He leaned down to press a kiss to your shoulder, his voice low and teasing. 

“Next time, maybe you’ll think twice before teasing me.”

You smiled, even as you lay there completely spent, your body still tingling from the aftermath. 

“Worth it,” you whispered, and Megumi let out a quiet laugh, brushing your hair away from your face as he kissed the back of your neck.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Hard Launching ∘°∘♡∘°∘

Summary: lando and y/n wanted to hard launch their relationship after dating secretly for a while. lando finds the perfect way to do so.

☘ ln x reader ✧˖*°࿐

☘ fluff + humour ✧˖*°࿐

masterlist ☾☼

lando and y/n had been discussing for a while about hard launching their relationship. they had managed to keep it out of the media for an entire season, but the media liked to paint lando as a villain, in more ways than one. not only were they attacking his skills on track, they began collecting pictures of lando with women, no matter how many years ago, and publishing them with articles about him being a womanizer.

the funniest ones were the pictures of lando and her sister out on some bonding time. reading those articles always made y/n laughed, and she would be lying if she said that she didn’t have them bookmarked in her browser for a pick me up when she was having a bad day.

at first, they had thought of doing a simple post with a cheesy caption. enough to let the fans knows that he was off the market again. but, it also felt kind of boring, and that was not lando or y/n’s style.

they discussed it for weeks, looking at different social media websites for inspiration, until it struck lando. scrolling through instagram, he’d found the perfect way to hard launch his relationship with his girlfriend.

when y/n asked him, he said, “you’ll just have to wait like the rest of the world, my love. but, i know you’re going to love it.”

y/n waited, just like he had told her to. she waited for two months, until one day, in the middle of her work, she received the instagram notification of lando posting and tagging her. this was the moment, y/n thought.

opening instagram, she found a reel, instead of a post or a story like she assumed. quickly, wearing her airpods, y/n clicked on the reel, increasing the volume in the background.

the reel opened with someone recording lando as he walked, head down and concentrated. the person recording said, “excuse me, what are you listening to right now?”

lando took out one of his airpods, and said, “my girlfriend yapping,” and then walked away.

the reel immediately cut to different instances of y/n talking and lando patiently listening. they were all sped up videos, and y/n watched her animated hands as she ranted, and lando listening, changing his position every so often. the music in the background was a lively, jaunty sound, and it fit so well with the reel.

there were a series of videos, from their home, from the paddock, from conference rooms where they were waiting for zak, or even from the gym where lando worked out, and y/n basically followed him, still talking his ear off. there were multiple videos of them on facetime as well, or screenshots of their hour - hour and half long conversations.

y/n laughed. it truly was the perfect way for lando to hard launch their relationship. it described them perfectly, if she did say so herself.

scrolling through the comments, she saw a lot of fans crying that he was a taken man now. she saw some saying things like, “this is the realest representation of a relationship.” there were some hate comments too, but they were stupid, so she ignored them.

she commented on the post as well, typing, “wait till i send you a 20 minute voice note on my lunch break” to which lando immediately responded with, “can’t wait, i got my airpods and my phone fully charged”

y/n laughed again, opening her text messaging app, and sending a quick “i love you this was perfect” to her boyfriend.

·̩̩̥͙＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊·̩̩̥͙

hi! i hope you guys enjoyed this! it came to me while i was driving to college! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @anamiad00msday

i'd love your support! https://ko-fi.com/kavi2305

[sirxlla]

The Qilin Test

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

Warnings: Fluff

Prompt: Meeting all Damian's pets (minus the dragon bat he apparentally has 😀 [im concerned for him a bit]) requested by @alexamars17

Notes: The title is a Harry Potter reference, Female Reader, italics are actions and thoughts.

-With that said it's all under the cut-

Meeting a billionare's son online was probably not on your bingo yard for the year... Definitely not something that Damian would ever think would happen but alas Jason had set up a dating profile for his little brother. (No matter how old Damian got Jason always called him his little brother cuz he knew a pissed him off.)

"Online datings tragic at best or its for casual sex, no one actually finds anyone that way." Damian rolled his eyes as his brothers attempts to get him back into the dating pool.

"Come on it'll be fun and plus you're more tolerable when you have a girlfriend." Jason just wanted him to try it, Damian had been miserable for months after Raven left him.

"Plus you wont have to worry about her reading your mind and shit cause chances are she'll be human and she wont be able to do that hoodoo voodoo stuff on you."

"Fine, Todd but if this goes south..." Damian huffed unhappy, Jason had probably made it all stupid in general and was doing this as some sorta prank or something.

"Just try it." Jason handed Damian his phone back, the profile was actually set up fairly nice considering Jason did it. It was clear to Damian at that moment that Jason was serious, a little light shone through the broken state of his heart that Raven left him in.

It had been months since Raven and he really had loved her but she had looked inside and saw memories he didnt want anyone to know about...Then she threw them in his face during an argument. He still loved her but he couldnt be with someone who chastised him for his past.

Anyways, he decided to give this a try and he found the girl that he just instantly clicked with. He could talk about whatever was interesting to him and she had no issue talking back to him about it. He was talking booby traps, grave guns and how during WW2 they would make bombs out of things that look like regular objects...

Damian found himself thinking about her during the day and he found himself staying up late just so that he could talk to her. They met up once but they were both extremely nervous and that was extremely obvious, the date had got cut short because of paparazzi...you know with him being Damian Wayne and all?

The next time he met you he decided that it would be a really good idea to introduce you to his pets, pets tended to make things go a lot smoother and everyone was a lot less nervous around a pet. He was so nervous that Titus might not like you...Bat-Cow liked everyone and Alfred was a cat so he was to be expected of a cat.

You came over to Wayne Manor where he told you to meet him, gentlemanly he opened your drivers side door for you and held out his hand. Reaching out to grab his hand you got out of your car and walked behind him, your hand still in his, he was suprisingly so gentle.

"Okay so I have three pets...I'll show you the biggest and most loveable- I mean they all are really but everyone loves her." He guided you through the yard and twords the little barn area he had built especially for her and your mind wandered to curiousity.

Damian keeps your hand in his so you dont trip cause its a little slick. Good thing he told you to dress casual. He gently guided you in and you saw the big white and brown cow.

"Oh, My- Wow. Oh, she'd beautiful! And so cute." You squealed over the cow. Each word that you said made him fall deeper and deeper into the love that you was already feeling for you.

"She's got a little bat symbol around her eyes that's why we call her BatCow." Of course you could only tell you partially what the reason was cause he hadn't told you his entire family is full of vigilantes.

"Oh, my god! Thats so cute and so clever!" Your eyes lit up as he explained that, his broken heart was being quickly mended and put back together by you, it swelled at the sound of your amusement.

Damian let you feed her and pet her for a bit before asking if you wanted tonmeet his other animals. This is where he was nervous, Titus listed with little issue but of courss but he was still worried about him liking you.

Using your hand he guided you up twords the manor. Of course you were in awe cause this place was beautiful so he walked slow. Once he got in he whistled and the dog came with little issue, Titus was well trained and well behaved but he definitely made his opinions very obvious.

Titus sniffed around her to see how he felt about her, curious sniffs quickly turned to him yipping like a puppy and turning around to get his toy for you to throw.

Damian smiled, the tension in his shoulders dissipating. He had never seen him act like this with someone that he just met but he seemed extremely happy and extremely trusting of you. Considering most people say that dogs can tell what type of person someone is without even being around them for long, this was a good sign.

Titus came back with the toy and you threw it and he went and got it and brought it back, yipping and wagging his body and tail. Whilst you and Titus played Alfred the Cat decided to come out abd brush up against you.

"Was this a dream?" Damian almost asked himself cause of how well it was going.

"Awww, Hello little kitty!" You doted on both his indoor pets instantly like they were your own and his love for you just increased ten fold, he'd never let anything hurt you not now when he was so completely enthralled with you.

"That's Alfred Pennyworth the cat, he's named after the butler and this is Titus." He introduces the animals formally.

"They're just the cutest little guys." You were just so happy and they were just so adorable.

"Little guys?" He thought, he didnt even notice the smile on your face and the way you treated every animal as if it was as small as a chipmunk and how they all got equal love. If he didn't know you were the one before, he definitely knew now.

Over time Titus took on the role of protecting you the same way he protected Damian. Both you and Damian too care of Bat-Cow and Alfred came and went as he pleased, if you sat still long enough he coiled himself up ontop of you. Damian had his own little perfect family and it was even remotely complete without you.

(Send me prompts if youd like.)

Masterlist

[pucksandpower]

MILF

Toto Wolff x wife!Reader

Summary: Toto knows his wife is a MILF … but this doesn’t mean he is okay with his son’s friends calling you that

Warnings: teenage boys doing teenage boy things

Based on this request

“Pass the schnitzel, darling,” you say to your husband as the three of you sit down for dinner. Your teenage son has just gotten home from school, and you can’t wait to hear about his day.

Toto smiles at you as he passes the platter of breaded veal. “How was school?” He asks.

Lukas shrugs as he takes a bite. “It was okay,” he mumbles through a mouthful of food.

You give him a look. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, sweetie,” you gently chide. Even though he’s almost an adult now, you still see your little boy in him.

Lukas swallows and straightens up. “Sorry, Mum.”

“So tell us about your day,” you prompt. “Learn anything new and interesting?”

Your son fidgets in his seat. “Well … some of the guys were talking about you today.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Me? What about me?”

Lukas glances uncomfortably at his father. “Just … stuff they saw online. Paparazzi photos from when we were on the yacht last month.”

Toto sets his fork down, his expression darkening. He’s no stranger to being in the public eye, but he’s always been protective of you and Lukas. “What exactly were they saying?” He asks in a carefully neutral tone.

“They, uh …” Lukas rubs the back of his neck. “They called Mom a MILF.”

“A what?” Toto sputters, while you have to suppress a laugh. You’re familiar with the crude term, given your substantially younger age compared to your husband.

“It’s not funny!” Toto says indignantly. “I won’t have people objectifying my wife like that.”

You reach over and pat his arm. “It’s okay, dear. I’m not bothered by it.” You turn back to Lukas with an amused smile. “I’m flattered those boys think your old mom’s still got it.”

“You’re not old!” Lukas protests loyally. “It’s just, you know, you’re a lot younger than Vati, and you’re really pretty, so the guys notice.”

Toto scowls, but you grin and blow your son a kiss. “Thanks, sweetie.” Your playful reaction seems to visibly relax him.

“This is unacceptable,” Toto shakes his head. “I should call the school. Get those little punks suspended for sexual harassment.”

“Oh Toto, don’t be silly,” you wave dismissively. “They’re just teenage boys. I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm.”

“It doesn’t matter!” He insists. “Your dignity and privacy should be respected, not exploited. People think because we’re in the spotlight that they can say whatever vulgar nonsense they want.”

You reach over again and lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I know it bothers you, darling. But I married you knowing full well how public our lives would be. A little crude gossip comes with the territory.”

Toto opens his mouth to retort, then pauses, some of the indignation leaving his eyes. “I just don’t want anyone disrespecting you,” he says finally.

You smile softly. Even after all these years of marriage, your heart still flutters at his protectiveness. “I know. It’s one of the many things I love about you.”

Lukas makes a face. “Ugh, gross. Can you guys not be all mushy right now?”

You laugh and blow him another kiss. “Sorry Lukas. I can’t help it — your father’s the love of my life.”

Toto smiles back at you, the anger fading from his face. “And you’re mine, schatzi.”

Your son pretends to gag. “Seriously, stop. I’m trying to eat here.”

You chuckle and spear another bite of schnitzel. “Alright, we’ll behave. Now, tell me more about the rest of your day ...”

The conversation moves on to lighter topics as you finish up dinner. You listen attentively while Lukas fills you in on the drama with his friend group and his struggles in history class.

After clearing the dishes, the three of you move to the living room. You curl up next to Toto on the couch while Lukas sprawls out on the carpet to play video games.

You close your eyes contentedly and rest your head on your husband’s shoulder. Despite the lifestyle that being married to Toto provides you with, this right here is your happy place — your little family, spending a quiet evening at home.

Toto wraps an arm around you and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Have I told you lately how lucky I am?” He murmurs.

You smile up at him. “Even after all these years, you still give me butterflies.”

“Good,” he says firmly. “I’ll tell you every day if I have to, until you’re sick of hearing it.”

Lukas groans loudly from the floor. “Could you guys be any more embarrassing?”

You and Toto both laugh. “What? I can’t tell my beautiful wife how much I love her?” He calls out in protest.

“Not when I’m right here!” Lukas complains. “Get a room or something.”

You grin mischievously. “That’s not a bad idea ...” you say, running a hand up your husband’s chest.

Toto’s eyes darken. “Minx,” he murmurs.

Lukas scrambles to his feet. “Okay, I’m out of here.” He gives you both a look of exaggerated disgust as he heads upstairs.

You and Toto chuckle as you listen to his bedroom door slam shut.

“Now, where were we?” Toto says in a low voice, pulling you closer. You bite your lip coyly as he presses his mouth to yours. No matter how many years go by, the chemistry between you is still electric.

You shift against him eagerly as the kiss deepens. His hands slide down to grip your hips, and you make a soft noise of pleasure. After nearly two decades of marriage, he knows exactly how to touch you.

“Tell me again,” you whisper when you finally break apart, slightly breathless.

Toto gazes into your eyes. “I love you,” he says sincerely. “I will always love you. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You kiss him again, tenderly this time. “I love you too, Toto. Forever.”

No matter what people say or how famous you become, your relationship has always been grounded in this — the unwavering love between you. The rest of the world falls away when you’re together.

You rest your head contentedly on his shoulder again, his arms wrapped around you. This right here, next to the man who still looks at you like you hung the moon, is home.

***

The next day after school, Lukas comes home with a few of his friends in tow. You’re just finishing up putting away the groceries when you hear the chatter of teenage voices approaching.

“Hey Mum, we’re gonna hang out downstairs,” Lukas calls out as the group of boys raids the kitchen fridge for snacks.

You smile and give them a little wave. “Hi boys. There’s more drinks in the pantry if you need it.”

The teenagers rumble acknowledgements through mouthfuls of food before thundering downstairs to your home theater room. You chuckle and shake your head. Teenage appetites are truly a phenomenon.

You’re straightening up the living room when you hear the front door open again, signaling Toto’s return from work.

“Hello, liebling,” he greets you warmly, sweeping you into an embrace.

You kiss him in welcome. “How was work today?”

“The usual madness,” he sighs. “But coming home to you makes it all worthwhile.”

You smile up at him adoringly. Even after all these years, your heart still flutters at his smooth compliments.

“Oh, Lukas has some friends over,” you mention. “They’re downstairs watching movies or playing video games.”

Toto frowns a little. “Those wouldn’t happen to be the same friends who were objectifying you?”

You pat his chest placatingly. “Now dear, we talked about this. Don’t make a fuss.”

“Hmph.” He still looks slightly disgruntled. “Well, I should at least go down and say hello.”

You follow him downstairs, where the group of teenage boys are sprawled out on the sofas engrossed in some action movie. Explosions boom from the surround sound system as CGI buildings crumble onscreen.

They look up when you and Toto enter. “Oh hey Mr. Wolff,” one of them says.

“Vati, you remember my friends right?” Lukas introduces. “Jason, Andrew, Ryan, and David.”

“Ah yes, nice to see you boys again,” Toto says smoothly.

Too smoothly.

You can sense the storm brewing beneath his polite façade.

Sure enough, as the teens’ attention returns to the movie, Toto clears his throat. “So I heard you boys were discussing my wife the other day.”

The room goes silent, save for the cinematic explosions still blaring through the speakers. The boys glance around uneasily.

“Um, we didn’t mean anything bad by it,” David finally offers timidly.

Toto raises an eyebrow. “Oh? So objectifying and sexualizing a married woman is not meant to be disrespectful?”

The teens squirm under his icy stare. You put a warning hand on your husband’s arm, but he continues.

“Let me tell you something about my wife,” he says, an edge creeping into his tone. “She is an elegant, successful, and highly intelligent woman. Not some piece of meat for you ogling schoolboys to drool over.”

The chastised boys all mumble apologies and stare fixedly at the floor.

Toto points a stern finger at them. “I trust there will be no further vulgar comments, or you won’t be welcome in this house again.”

“Yes sir,” they mutter. Lukas looks like he wants the leather couch to swallow him whole. You have to stifle a smile at your husband’s overprotective papa bear routine.

“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.” Toto straightens his suit jacket. “Now you boys enjoy your … movie.”

He turns and heads back upstairs, with you following after an apologetic smile to the shell-shocked teens.

Once you’re out of earshot, you swat his shoulder reproachfully. “Toto! Did you really need to traumatize the poor kids?”

“I didn’t traumatize them,” he huffs. “I just … explained a few things.” At your skeptical look, he amends “ … Firmly.”

You shake your head in exasperation. “You’re impossible. I thought I asked you not to make a fuss.”

He takes your hands earnestly. “I’m sorry, schatzi. I just can’t stand anyone disrespecting you. You deserve to be treated like a queen.”

You soften at the sincerity in his eyes. “Oh Toto. You’re too good to me.” You wrap your arms around him in a conciliatory hug.

He holds you close. “Nonsense. I’ll spend every day proving you’re the most important thing in the world to me.”

You snuggle against his chest, reminded yet again how lucky you are. Even when he overreacts, you know it comes from a place of devotion.

“Just promise me you’ll go easy on the boys,” you say wryly as you pull back. “I think you scared them straight for life.”

Toto smiles ruefully. “I suppose I did get a bit … intense. But the message won’t do any harm.”

You laugh and kiss his cheek. “My noble protector.”

He grins. “Proudly.”

Later, as the boys are getting ready to leave, Toto stops them at the front door.

“Before you go, I have one more thing to say,” he announces. The teens glance at each other nervously.

Toto looks each of them in the eye. “If I ever hear of you disrespecting my wife again, I won’t be so kind. You see, she’s actually a MIDF … Mother I Do Fuck.” He enunciates the words pointedly.

The teens’ eyes widen in horror, and Lukas turns bright red. “Vati!” He hisses in embarrassment.

Toto ignores him. “So I would appreciate it if you kept your crude comments to yourselves next time.” He gives them a tight smile. “Are we clear?”

The boys nod rapidly. “Yes sir. Crystal clear, Mr. Wolff,” one mumbles.

“Good.” Toto claps his hands together. “Then get home safely.”

After the front door shuts behind the fleeing teens, Lukas rounds on his father. “Oh my god, Vati! Why would you say that?”

He shrugs unapologetically. “I wanted to make sure they got the message loud and clear this time.”

Lukas just shakes his head in mortification before stomping upstairs.

You slide your arms around your unrepentant husband. “You just couldn’t resist, could you?”

“They left with a healthy dose of fear and respect,” Toto says smugly. “I think my work here is done.”

[bigmacari]

Hihi! If your requests are still open, can I ask for a Reader x Dirk fic from Date Everything? If you need a prompt; The reader showing interest in the comics Dirk reads, and wants to know what they're about so they can share the interest!

꧁ ༺ ── ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ── ༻ ꧂

Dirk x Reader

☆ Getting to know Dirk better by taking interest in his comics!

☆Warning(s) None

☆Author Note(s) This one was so fun to write. I also headcannon that Dirk can be a bit of a nerd when talking about his interests. Hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

꧁ ༺ ── ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ── ༻ ꧂

☆ It was after an argument between Dirk and Harper that you decided to go and find him. Which proved to be a difficult task as he ran off and hid pretty well, presumingly to get away from Harper.

You did end up finding him, though, sitting in the corner of one of the many closets in your house. Dirks' face was buried into a comic book. You look closer to see that it was specifically volume 142 of the ‘Bat-Man’ series.

Dirk seemed pretty entranced with the comic, as he didn’t look up when you found him. It took a moment of awkward staring on your part to realize that you made some kind noise to alert Dirk that you were there.

You raise your fist and knock softly on the closet frame so as not to startle him. It doesn’t seem to work, though, as he flinches and sighs in frustration.

“Harper, I said I needed space - oh…” Drik says, sounding quite exasperated. It took him a second to notice you were indeed not Harper, but you.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to bother, I just wanted to see if you’re good?” You asked, folding your arms and leaning against the closet frame.

He sighs in what you believe is in relief while he closes the comic he was reading, keeping a finger in between the pages to mark the spot he was on. “You’re good, and I’m fine. I just needed to get away from my cage of a girlfriend.” Dirk says, rolling his eyes.

Suddenly, a faint “Where are you Dirkie!?” could be heard just a room away. This makes Dirk groan in annoyance. “Speaking of… hurry and get inside before she sees you talking to me.”

Dirk reaches up from his spot and grabs your arm, pulling you inside the closet. He then shuts the closet door. making it dark until you turn on the light just above you.

The closet is spacious enough, which leads you to sit as well. Both of your legs overlap a bit, but not so much that it makes either of you uncomfortable

You kind of felt like a kid again. You guys were definitely hiding like some. The thought makes you giggle a bit, which makes Dirk tilt his head at you.

You simply let out a small, “nothing.” and decided to switch the topic. “So… what were you reading before I interrupted?” You whisper, so as not to alert Harper that you're in here.

Dirk looks back down to his comic, “You remember the superhero you didn’t know when we first met? Bat-Man?” He whispers back.

You give a short nod, “The one you couldn’t believe I didn't know about?”

Dirk smiles, “I still find it pretty weird that you didn’t, he's pretty popular, you know? Anyone who doesn’t live underneath a rock knows him.”

You shrug and smile back, “Guess I’ve been too busy. What is it about anyway? Something about a superhero that patrols a stadium?”

Drik ‘tch’s’ in a know it all manner, “It’s so much more than that! His parents got killed by a hitter, and now he vows to fight crime in Baseball City. Oh, and - ” Dirks voice gives off a slightly giddy tone as he goes on.

The day continues as you whisper questions, and Dirk whispers back answers. He even lets you go through some of the comics. By the time you realize that maybe you’ve been in this closet for too long, it’s evening.

Not that you mind, you think this is the most information you've gotten out of Dirk. It was nice to talk to him when he wasn't frustrated or arguing.

And although you don’t really get much of the baseball/superhero slang he’s throwing around, you do find yourself getting engrossed in Dirk’s interest and the way he presents it.

You smile the entire time, and even though Dirk doesn’t admit it, he finds himself doing the same.

꧁ ༺ ── ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ── ༻ ꧂

[bunny-jpeg]

Hi bunny! I’m so sorry I didn’t know the request were closed, I think I sent this before 😣 but if they’re open now, can I order a spicy upside down cake with some eclairs and tea with Toto (with Horner reader) pls pls

the menu!

want to submit your own? hit up the menu! i'd love to accept your order! thank you for this lovely prompt anon! i love the inclusion of horner's daughter. wow! always a good trope! i hope i served you well!

spicy upside down cake ("let's play a game: don't get caught.") + eclairs ("the family's precious little girl. under me like a slut.") + tea (semi-public/public sex) served by toto wolff (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, semi-public sex, power dynamic, desk/office sex, clothed sex, slight daddy kink, getting caught

"how do i say this as nicely as possible." george said as he brought kimi around the mercedes paddock. his hands in his jean pockets as he looked around to see if anyone is in earshot, "every rumor from formula one is basically untrue. or partially untrue.., except for one."

the young driver's interest was piqued. was he finally getting all the gossip from the grid? he leaned in a little forward and waited for what his new teammate had to say.

"toto wolff has a secret girlfriend... and she's horner's daughter. basically everyone knows, but no one will admit it. especially not to horner himself. just be careful, she's quite the looker." then slapped the young driver on the back as they continued.

you could have had any man you desired. you had the looks, the money, there was a kindness to you that pulled people in. you weren't some spoiled princess, you had a heart of gold in a sea of people out for metaphorical blood. you drew people in, like the likes of toto wolff.

a gentleman old enough to be your father, but still made love to you like he was in his twenties. the scandal on the paddock, but with little reliable evidence your father often turned a blind eye to it. even though he noticed as you got older and hung around the paddock, the skirts you wore got shorter and shorter.

your poor father didn't want to be thinking about you with a man double your age and the unsavory things he had done to you. so for horner's sanity, his head was in the sand.

so it wouldn't be a bad thing if you ended up in toto's office for the weekend. with the older man picking you up and placing you on top of the sturdy desk. your thighs spread open for your lover.

"you look beautiful, schatzi." his voice was low and his broad hands pushed up your skirt. it was a flirty little number that turned a lot of heads. you didn't mind the attention because you only had eyes for toto, "so good for daddy."

you wrapped your arms around his neck and giggled, "which one?"

he made a face, "you are a dirty girl. if horner knew what you did to me almost every night, he'd be dead on the spot. his precious daughter fucking an older man."

you held onto his shoulders and beamed at him, "gotta fix my daddy issues somehow." then lifted your hips a little to let toto get your pretty purple panties off. they soon hung limp around your left ankle.

he pressed his nose against your neck and took in your scent. you were wearing the perfume that he bought for you. he knew prior to his relationship with you, you got a few eyes on you. but most knew in the paddock now, especially when toto and your father lingered like a shadow. a cute cub with the much bigger, much scarier polar bear behind her. you were soft smiles and thick thighs that squished together. but you wore the horner last name on paper and the wolff last name on a little anklet chain.

"oh you have daddy issues?" he mocked, "i would have never guessed. the family's precious little girl. under me like a slut." his lips found your neck and he trailed kisses onto it. during the break in the season he'll sink his teeth in. but for now, he'd have to be good and not mark up horner's daughter. (as much as it killed him).

regardless he was hard in his slacks and with your slick pussy on display for him. he wondered if you'd get his last name tattoos on your hip for only his eyes. but that seemed less permanent than just simply marrying you and changing your last name.

he ran a finger across your cheek before he said, "let's play a game: don't get caught." in reference to you not being so loud. poor thing had a habit of being loud even when you were in public.

you squirmed a little on the desk, your bare ass against it. you leaned back a little on your hands and said, "but how will everyone know you're fucking me so good?"

he chuckled a little, "they don't need to know." he kissed at your neck once more before he started to undo his belt, "i'd hate to gag you, my love."

you giggled but quickly covered your mouth with your hand as you tried to keep quiet. toto was in your space once more, your legs wrapped around his waist and he rubbed his cock up against your pussy before he sank in to the root.

he held onto your hips and pulled you closer to him. you took all over him as he started to move against you. your panties almost hit the floor as he took your hand away from your mouth and sealed your mouth with a kiss. the kisses were the loudest part between the two of you as the two of you moved together on the desk.

while toto usually liked to undress you piece by piece like a finely wrapped present. to him, being with you was like christmas every day. especially when he was fucking you. but at that moment, the two of you had to be quick.

he moved against you and kept his lips against yours. his thrusts were heavy as he battered against your sweet sex. you two had to be as quiet as you could get. his hands gripped onto your hips as he pressed his cock up against you.

he lips trailed down your neck as he fucked you, his breathing was heavy and his face slightly flushed. he could feel the thump of pleasure in the back of his head. oh, you felt amazing to him.

he understood why horner made sure to keep you out of the paddock once you became an adult. he held onto you tighter, his voice low as he said, "so beautiful. and all for me." he smiled at you as he moved against you. feeling your sweet cunt tighten around him.

his teeth carefully grazed your pulse and your back arched a little more. your pretty clothed breasts up against him. a sight to behold. even while clothed your body called to him.

the two of you were lost in the euphoria of your fucking, that you didn't hear the knock at the office door followed by the opening of said door.

"mister wolff, i-" kimi stopped in in his tracks and found his head principal and horner's daugther having sex on top of the desk. his eyes went wide. george was right, the rumours were true. he stepped back before he was out the door with it closed behind him.

toto wolff and planted both of his strong hands on either side of you, "i'm going to have to talk to him." his voice was heavy, but he had yet to take his cock out of you. if anything it felt like it had grown harder.

you took your lover by the face and kissed him, "not before you make me cum first." as you clenched your thighs around his waist.

he chuckled before he took your face and pulled you in for a kiss, "of course, schatzi." <3