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fayes-fics · 2 months

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To Know You…

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Benedict knows you better than anyone. But does he know himself well enough to know what he truly wants?

Warnings: none really… fluffy fluff. Childhood friends, class differences, marriage mart shenanigans, dancing, marriage proposals, Benedict being adorable while also a complete dumbass, unrequited to requited love, love confessions.

Word Count: 10.4k (yeah, it's a long one, folks)

Authors Note: this is a request fill for @curlsincriminology (ask HERE) about Benedict showing you all the wonderful things he sees in you, but will he figure out his own feelings before it's too late? Thanks to the complete trooper @colettebronte for beta reading this monster one-shot. Enjoy <3

I: To Know You….

“I would rather not, Miss y/l/n,” the young man clips, walking away from you at a brusque pace.

You sigh and look down at your feet. Mrs Parsons will be so very disappointed, is all you can think.

—

Benedict may not have heard the words spoken, but even from his vantage point at the other end of the ballroom, he could see the disdainful way the young man uttered his parting words to you. It makes anger flare hot in his chest, his fist forming reflexively at his side.

He watches as you look down, shoulders hunching, folding in on yourself physically, as if the rejection for a dance has manifested in a body blow. He feels a pang in his gut—of sympathy, indignance on your behalf and mainly at the injustice of it all. To him, you are a wonderful, intelligent, caring person worthy of a good match. Still, the circumstances of your upbringing seem to stymie your attempts to join so-called ‘polite’ society at every turn…

—

You look up with a defeated mien until your eyes land on one person who has always been able to ameliorate any of your more morose moods—Benedict Bridgerton. Instantly, you feel lighter. You give him a polite nod across the crowded room, and, to your delight, he returns it, a hint of a sympathetic smile tugging at his lips. It is just so very characteristic of him to offer silent support, to understand, from witnessing a moment of interaction, precisely what you are feeling. A large part of you feels so wistful that there is no other man quite as nice as him. Suddenly, your overwhelming need is to leave this stuffy ballroom and catch some air.

You grew up under the tutelage of the kindly doctor’s widow, Mrs Parsons, whose house is not far from the vast Bridgerton estate in Kent. The naturally born daughter of nobody quite knows whom, you were taken in as her ward when you were abandoned upon her doorstep at a mere two years old. Her reputation for kindness towards young waifs and strays is likely why you were left there. It is an event you were too young to recall, so all you have known your whole life is her generosity and kindness, raising you as if her own.

And now that you are of age, she takes you to events around Kent in the hopes of securing you a respectable husband, the most prestigious being tonight’s Hearts and Flowers Ball at Aubrey Hall. The Bridgertons have always been gracious enough to invite local families, those without the means to partake in the London season, to events at their country estate—a kindness that allows for your attendance tonight. It’s just such a pity that the one bachelor Mrs Parsons was so very keen for you to meet, one Mr Reeves, just rebuffed you so thoroughly.

You glance down at the remaining empty slots on the dance card tied to your wrist and sigh again. Now that you are out on the terrace in the fresh evening air, the light breeze is at least a partial balm, allowing you to recover from the sting of rejection away from the hubbub of the ballroom.

“I will never understand how the men of this county can consider themselves anything approaching mannered.”

You would know that refined voice anywhere. It haunts your dreams. Just the sound of it making your ribs tighten. You turn to see Benedict sauntering towards you, two drinks in hand, that sympathetic smile still in place.

“You are far better off without such rudeness,” he adds dryly as he pulls up beside you, arching an eyebrow for your entertainment.

“You are far too kind, Mr Bridgerton,” you answer, taking the glass he offers with a meek smile, trying not to let your ardent admiration for him be too evident.

“Mr Bridgerton?!?” he scoffs, “What happened to BenBen?” he teases gently, recalling your childhood name for him when you were a mere four and he was nine.

“We are at a formal event; I should address you as such, should I not?” you reply playfully, a warmth spreading inside as it always does when you get the chance to have a witty, convivial exchange with him.

By gosh, if there is one man to whom you would pledge yourself without hesitation, it is him. But, of course, he is the second son of an illustrious family. To think you would have any chance to win his heart would be as likely as a future king to marry a commoner. Still, you can dream…

“At least call me Benedict, Skylark,” he winks over his wine glass as he takes a sip, butterflies erupting in your tummy at the affectionate nickname he has used since you were small; you have to avert your eyes to avoid blushing deeply.

Just as he goes to speak again, his brother, the Viscount, materialises at his side. Looking to all intents and purposes as if he is trying to escape the ball as much as you are.

“Mother is best avoided tonight, brother,” Anthony warns sagely, taking a large gulp of his champagne. “She is under the erroneous impression I am suddenly in want of a wife.”

You can't stop the giggle that bubbles up from within at his wry observation of his predicament.

“Hello, y/n,” he greets warmly, just noticing you are also there, his face morphing into a youthful, playful grin. If Benedict is the husband you have always dreamed of, Anthony is the elder brother you have always yearned for. In fact, that is always how he has treated you, akin to Eloise and Daphne, who you grew up playing with, being of similar age.

“Hello, Anthony,” you chime back. “How was the hunt earlier? Did the infamous Bridgerton brothers kill another prized stag?” you inquire, keen to engage both of them for as long as they will entertain you. Just being around them always lifts your spirits to no end.

—

Benedict observes you as you listen intently to Anthony’s recounting of the hunt earlier that day, impressed by your resilience. He has no doubts any other woman would feign an attack of the vapours had a man rejected her so harshly. But here you are, politely listening to his brother’s boasting, even though he can tell you are hurting inside.

Perhaps it helps that your snub went primarily unnoticed. You are unknown to the Ton; any witnesses likely dismissing it as the business of ‘country folk’ unworthy of note. Which, frankly, he could scoff at, seeing as he holds you in higher regard than all of the other attendees combined.

“How about you?” Anthony ends his story with a question to you, interrupting Benedict’s train of thought. “How has your experience been at our fine event this evening?”

“Oh, the house is splendidly decorated and the music wonderful,” you obfuscate behind flattery. Anthony appears to buy it, but Benedict sees behind your facade, the flame behind your usually bright gaze dimming a little, making something ache in his gut to see it.

Damn that idiot for ruining your evening! This just won’t do…

—

You can feel Benedict’s eyes upon you as you respond abstractly to Anthony.

“Y/n here is too polite to say it, but she was treated harshly by that young Reeves chap from Tenterden,” Benedict edifies as you bow your head, embarrassed. “Let’s be sure to rescind his invitation to future events, brother,” he appends with a surly tone.

“Duly noted,” Anthony nods sincerely, a brush of confusion flitting over his face regarding his brother's vehemence.

“No, there is no need…” you begin to protest weakly but halt mid-sentence under the intensity of Benedict’s gaze.

“I bore witness. Believe me, He shall not darken our door again,” he states firmly.

It appears the matter is very much decided, and you don’t want to put up much of a fight, seeing as it ultimately benefits you. You do, however, want to bathe in the warm glow inside whenever Benedict defends you. It's wonderful to have someone looking out for you, especially one so handsome and kind.

—

Two days later, you are taking afternoon tea with Mrs Parsons at the local tea shop when Benedict breezes in, looking so majestic dressed in Bridgerton blues that you grind to a halt. Luckily, he has not seen you as he makes a beeline for the counter.

“‘Tis rude to stare, my dear,” Mrs Parsons lectures sotto voce, nodding to your teacup, frozen in mid-air.

You shake your head a touch and place said item back in your saucer as she turns briefly to look at what or who caught your attention. Then she reaches out, her lace-gloved hand gently patting yours.

“It would be prudent to set your sights a little more realistic…” she advises with a sympathetic air. “Not that I fault your choice,” she adds, so quietly at first you're not sure you heard her correctly, but there is a tiny playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Your mouth falls open fractionally, and you stare as she shrugs. “I may be old, my dear, but I am not blind.”

Well, I never, Mrs Parsons!

As you take a bite of food, Benedict twists around from speaking to the proprietor, and he sees you. There’s a jolt down your spine as he breaks into a huge smile that claims his whole face. And you almost choke on scone crumbs as he makes a beeline over to you rather than the exit.

“Good afternoon, Miss y/l/n, Mrs Parsons!” he greets effusively. “Would it be terribly impolite to ask to join you briefly?”

Mrs Parsons' face is a picture of surprise. “Not at all; the pleasure is ours, Mr Bridgerton,” she responds affably, gesturing to the spare chair at your small round table.

As Benedict sits, Mrs Parsons shoots you an incredulous look. It's your turn to shrug fractionally.

“Mrs Parsons, I feel it necessary to tell you Mr Reeves was excessively rude to Miss y/l/n here at the ball, and I wanted to assure you that he will not be welcome at Aubrey Hall again,” he divulges sincerely.

Mrs Parsons looks taken aback and turns to you. “Why did you not tell me, my dear?”

“I-I did not think it necessary…” you twist your mouth into a bashful pout, biting your lip.

“Mr Bridgerton, thank you for bringing this to my attention, and I thank you for your generous offer, but that sort of action does not seem warranted,” she replies accommodatingly.

“That is what I said…” “That is what she said…”

You and Benedict speak in unison at the exact same moment, and your eyes ping to each other, both laughing then bowing your heads immediately. You know your cheeks are flushed.

—

Benedict loves the look in your eye sometimes. That spirited sparkle with glowing cheeks. In his opinion, that is the only look you should ever wear; no one, especially one as unworthy as Mr Reeves, should be allowed to rob you of it. He feels a strong compulsion to do everything in his power to keep you looking like that—carefree, happy, stunning. It’s what motivates his subsequent words.

“If it is not considered too impudent for me to do so, I have a suggestion for Miss y/l/n’s introduction into society,” Benedict offers sincerely. “I believe you should be able to find her an excellent, worthy match by casting a wider net.”

“What are you proposing, Mr Bridgerton?” Mrs Parsons inquiries, almost warily.

“That Miss y/l/n come to London and partake in the remainder of the season as a guest of my family. My mother seems to think it an excellent idea, and I know my younger sister Eloise is already a good friend. I do not see why they could not attend events together,” he shrugs genially.

Mrs Parsons's face is a picture again. “You have already spoken to the Dowager Viscountess of this matter?” she checks, unable to modulate the astonishment in her tone.

“Of course,” he confirms with a nod. “I made such a suggestion this morning when your names came up. She heartily concurs. Miss y/l/n here is too bright and good of a person to have her marital choice limited by geography or circumstance.”

His eyes fall on you, and his heart gallops at the searing look you are giving him.

—

You don’t even try to temper your doe-eyed expression as you look upon Benedict, him extolling your virtues to the audience of the tea room.

Even distracted by all the wondrous things he has to say, you can detect the noise level on the surrounding tables has reduced; everyone in town always keen to eavesdrop on a Bridgerton conversation. Especially one that contains such noteworthy gossip as a local young lady being invited to the London season at the family’s behest.

“My dear, I trust that Lady Bridgerton will look after you well,” Mrs Parsons professes. “I have no objections should you desire to seize this opportunity.” Her tone pointed, very much encouraging you to do so.

“That would be just wonderful, Mr Bridgerton,” you exhale with a grateful smile. “I cannot thank you enough for even thinking to raise such a petition.”

“Think nothing of it, Miss y/l/n,” he smiles, standing up and giving you both a brief, shallow bow. “I shall see you anon, no doubt.”

And with that, he sweeps out of the tearoom, your eye line tracking his concave outline through the curved glass as he rounds the corner out of sight.

“Well, well,” Mrs Parsons puffs out her cheeks. “I am not sure what you did to inspire such actions in a gentleman. But bravo, my dear, bravo,” she holds her teacup aloft in a toast.

You are a jumble of emotions and could not even begin to answer Mrs Parsons about what you could possibly have done. Mostly, you are just elated by the prospect of the chance to attend the whirl of the London season, even if there is also a small pang of regret that Benedict is so keen to see you matched.

II: …Is To Love You

The following Tuesday, as your carriage pulls up outside the grandeur of Bridgerton House, you have nothing but butterflies. And as Lady Bridgerton - Violet as she insists you now call her - and her lady’s maid show you to your charming guest room, you cannot temper your excitement.

“Get yourself freshened up, my dear. There is a soiree this evening at the Queen’s new residence no less, and there is no time like the present to begin your introductions,” the dowager viscountess warmly counsels.

You nod your thank yous, and after they take their leave, you twirl excitedly around the room, taking in the elegant furnishings and airy sunlight flooding in. You pull up in front of a large sash window and are delighted to see bounteous gardens beneath. The rear of the property is very much an oasis of calm in the heart of the city. But one sight in particular draws your eye: a majestic oak with two swings attached to a stately arm. It looks like a place of refuge, and you feel oddly compelled to take a seat there.

Three hours later, walking into the palatial Buckingham House, you are in a different world from the one you know in Kent. Candlelit crystal chandeliers glint like towering clusters of jewels, spraying thousands of shards of light around the room. Every railing is bedecked in hundreds of drooping flower garlands, and the walls groan with enormous portraits of royalty. The mellifluous strains of a chamber orchestra fill the air. Your grip on Eloise’s arm is tight as you try not to look agog at all the opulence surrounding you.

“And I thought Aubrey Hall was grand,” you murmur quietly, and she just guffaws.

—

Benedict arrives late to the soiree from his bachelor lodgings, bustling in as stealthily as possible, knowing he will likely catch his mother’s ire for his tardiness.

But then he sees a sight that makes him temporarily stop dead in his tracks. There, hanging on to his little sister, surveying the room utterly lost in reverie at its grandeur—is you. He has not seen you dressed up as you are now, made over with the full attention of the Bridgerton staff. And he isn't afraid to admit to himself, at least, that it catches his breath. How they have applied cosmetics and styled your hair, emphasising your already evident beauty. And the dress they have chosen… well, he is almost ashamed of the heat pooling low in his gut; he has never seen you in such tailored, refined silks.

Whosoever marries you shall be quite the luckiest man indeed.

He doesn't miss the way you inhale sharply when your eyes finally land on him, his chest swelling slightly with pride as your lips part in surprise before breaking into that winning smile which always seems to brighten every room, tonight being no exception.

As he pulls up to the family, he hears his mother opining to you about the men attending the ball.

“Y/n, I would like to introduce you to Lord Shelton; he is a fine young man with many interests, and he has a lovely estate near Hove,” his mother recounts as you listen intently.

“Oh god, no,” Benedict immediately intervenes, “Shelton has amassed significant debt at the Pudding Lane gaming hell…”

Violet looks up surprised, then raises an eyebrow. “Pray tell dear son, how do you have knowledge of such? Benedict Bridgerton, you had better not be frequenting the hells of the East End,” she threatens quietly, in that stern maternal manner that has any grown man quaking in their polished shoes.

“No, of course not, mother,” he bristles, his eyes cutting briefly to you, not wanting you to think such things of him. “It is an open secret at Whites’, and why he is currently banned from the card room there.”

—

You cannot tear your eyes off Benedict as his mother side-eyes him.

Violet hums sceptically before declaring. “Well, not to worry, there are plenty of other options available for Miss y/l/n…” She steers your attention towards another crowd of young men, all talking and sipping champagne. “Baron Corning, Lord Jennings, Viscount Tewkesbury,” she recounts, nodding subtly to each one. “Any would make a fine addition to your dance card, my dear.”

“We can do much better than any of them,” Benedict chides.

You are slightly taken aback at how very much he sounds like Anthony tonight; apparently very invested in curating who you should dance with. The problem is, with each additional suggestion his mother makes to you, he roundly dismisses them out of hand.

Is no one in attendance up to his standard?

“Benedict, dear, a word?” Violet states pointedly after a third round of his withering opinions. “Get yourself another lemonade,” she smiles at you, patting your hand before looping her arm in her son’s and dragging him away.

—

His mother’s arm is surprisingly strong when she needs it to be.

“Darling, may I remind you, while Miss Y/l/n is indeed a wonderful person, I do not think we can afford to be too picky for her prospects. Her background is rather… unestablished,” Violet points out diplomatically as soon as you are out of earshot.

“We can do better than braggards, bores and philanderers,” Benedict shoots back, raising a pointed eyebrow.

She looks up at him and sighs. “Well, that is true.”

“As I thought, mother,” he winks as she affectionately swats his forearm. “Why not benefit from my knowledge? In fact, perhaps it is prudent I assist in your search for a suitor.”

“Oh, is it now?” Her tone suddenly filled with intrigue, her face entirely too scrutinising for his liking. “And does not my second son wish to join their ranks?” She adds entirely unsubtly.

“I have no time for romance; I have my art. I am most preoccupied.” He waves a dismissive hand, but even he knows his answer is tellingly brusque.

“And yet, you do not seem too busy to assist with the search, dear…” she points out archly.

Benedict has no response to that.

—

The day after the grand ball, you are sat in the dappled shade in the gardens of Bridgerton House, attempting needlework. It's never been your strength, frankly. You would much rather be allowed to partake in more physical pursuits, like archery or fencing, a want to burn off nervous energy as you await the arrival of any suitors. You did end up dancing with a couple of gentlemen, both of whom were…. fine… in your estimation.

After messing up yet another stitch, you throw down the embroidery hoop and emit a deep sigh when a familiar chuckle rings out behind you.

“Not your favourite pastime?” Benedict correctly guesses.

“You can say that again,” you grumble, twisting to smile at him, a little frisson in your belly at his mere presence, alone as you are.

He rounds to take a seat opposite you, across the table.

“So let me guess,” his face charmingly skewed into a thoughtful mien. “You would prefer to be doing something, hmmmm, more athletic?”

You giggle and cast your eyes downwards briefly, abashed he seems to know you so well. “Correct again.”

“I remember you being a crack shot in archery,” he smiles nostalgically before continuing with genuine curiosity. “Why did you not continue it?”

“I was informed ‘tis unbecoming for a lady,” you rue, the mental image of Mrs Parsons deeming such things ‘unladylike’ flitting through your mind.

He scoffs. “Since when did fearsome little Skylark care one jot for societal expectations?” he teases gently, with a wink, as again he invokes the nickname he bestowed upon you a long time hence.

You smile briefly before you become more sanguine. “Since I have been informed I must find a husband…” you sigh.

He frowns a touch. “Any man would be lucky to have a wife who can keep him company on the archery field. I know I, for one, would greatly appreciate a spouse with whom I could share such a pastime.”

A bittersweet twinge in your gut that one day he will indeed be married to some deserving, no doubt elegant, lady.

“I would venture that you are not like most gentlemen in that regard…”

“Perhaps not,” he agrees, looking thoughtful, “but then you are not like most ladies, Skylark.”

“I am not a lady…” your counterpoint softly-spoken, almost ashamed.

“You are more lady than any other member of the Ton,” he asserts, his gaze suddenly intense, as if he is willing you to believe his point. “And you should be free to pursue any pastime you wish.”

You say nothing, just smile wanly, wishing you could believe it was true.

—

How you constantly doubt yourself causes a little stab behind Benedict’s ribs. A sudden burning need to prove that you should do as you please. He slaps his thighs and stands up swiftly.

“In fact, I am going to go set up the archery targets right now,” he nods decisively, making a beeline for the far corner of the garden where he knows the targets are kept, hoping you will follow.

“Coming?” he calls, twisting to look back at you. “I won't tell anyone…” he adds with a conspiratorial wink, seeing from the involuntary bounce of your leg how much you wish to join in.

He cannot help the smile that engulfs his face as you jump to your feet with a mischievous giggle. Nor can he help deliberately aiming badly, letting you roundly defeat him at target practice, basking in the victorious glint in your eye as you tease him gently for losing.

He also pretends not to notice his mother watching from a high window, her expression riveted and so very telling.

—

Later that day, you are reading quietly with Eloise when Violet sweeps into the drawing room with her lady's maid.

“Y/n, Sir Denton is here to see you,” she smiles brightly.

“Oh, I…” you stutter, sitting upright, surprised.

“I can send him away, Miss?” The maid offers, intuiting your disquiet.

“No, no, it is fine… I am just surprised, that is all. ‘Tis almost 4pm. I was not expecting that anyone would be calling, given the late hour.”

Benedict suddenly materialises in the doorway. As ever, there’s that trademark flutter in your chest.

“Any reason Denton is lingering in the hallway?” he inquires airily, grabbing a teacup and pouring himself some.

“He is here for y/n,” Violet breezes as his eyes cut to you, a wave of irritation seeming to cloud his face.

“Well, we should dismiss him,” Benedict sniffs, pausing in his action, his face souring.

“Why?” Violet frowns.

“I had a chance to look into his past since I acquiesced to his dance with y/n last night…”

“Acquiesced?!” Violet scoffs, but Benedict ignores her interjection, save for a curt eyebrow raise.

“I have subsequently discovered he has vastly overstated his assets,” Benedict bristles imperiously.

“Who woke up and made you Anthony?” Eloise pipes up witheringly.

Benedict shoots her a look of irritation. “Anthony has deputised me to run family matters while he is away on business this week, sister,” he reminds pointedly.

“Yes, but you did not have to adopt his personality as well,” Eloise shoots back, disgust evident on her face.

“I take finding y/n here, a suitable match, seriously,” he volleys. “Do you wish to see your good friend married to someone unworthy of her?”

“Well, no…”

“Then kindly permit me to handle matters,” Benedict orders with finality, uncharacteristically forthright in his opinions.

“I do not wish to see her married at all…” Eloise mutters under her breath as he stalks away to dispatch Denton before anyone can argue.

You just sit there mildly dumbfounded, unsure what to make of it all.

—

The following evening, you are attending a music recital with the Bridgertons; Benedict is notably absent, which makes you a touch melancholic in a way you don’t want to dwell on.

However, the evening turns for the better while you are taking refreshments at the interval. A friendly-faced young man strikes up a conversation with you after an introduction from Violet.

“Are you enjoying the music tonight, Miss y/l/n?” he asks genially.

“It is very nice, Lord Glassborough,” you offer politely, trying to stifle your slight boredom. You enjoy music, but a two-hour concert is a little too much for you. You much prefer a short set of songs as they play at balls.

“I find it rather dull myself,” he opines quietly, leaning in. “I much prefer a lively song one may dance to.”

You know your face is a picture of surprise that his opinion is an exact mirror of your own.

“Have I offended you so?” he checks, looking mildly contrite.

“Not at all, my lord. I was actually just thinking the same myself,” you chuckle quietly.

He looks inordinately pleased and breaks into a friendly, toothy grin. He seems like a nice, agreeable sort. A pleasant, if not particularly handsome, face. Over his shoulder, you see Violet looking inordinately pleased you appear to be getting on so well.

—

“I am not sure I can do this...” you sigh as Ms West genially taps the metronome.

“You can, dear; just remember your finger placement,” she encourages as your fingers fall to the cool ivory keys.

And so you begin again. Attempting to master this tricky piece, your eyes tracing the lines of music as you play the pianoforte. Violet is so keen for you to brush up on your skills, given Lord Glassborough’s interest in you yesterday. You could not find an adequate excuse fast enough, and so here you are, in a slightly reluctant music lesson, trying your best to recall how Mrs Parsons taught you to play a few years ago.

“Men do so appreciate a lady who can entertain them with exquisite music,” Ms West nods approvingly as you play.

Mostly, you are relieved when you make it to the end with no mistakes, at least none glaringly obvious.

“I much prefer to sing…” you admit tacitly as Ms West shuffles the sheet music.

She looks at you surprised, then shoos you from the piano stool. “Sing for me then, my dear…” taking a seat and beginning the opening bars to a song that, fortunately, you know well.

You begin to sing along, growing more confident with every note, allowing yourself to get lost in the words, the story of a lady awaiting her true love.

“Exceptional!” she peals delightedly over the sound, and you feel bolstered to continue, her playing the perfect accompaniment.

—

Benedict stops short as soon as he enters the house. The most lilting, beautiful sound echoing gently down the marble hall.

“Who is that Jenkins?” he asks of the butler who takes his coat.

“I believe it is Miss y/l/n, sir.”

He draws inexorably closer, finding himself watching you through the crack in the doorway, listening to you sing a touching tale of love that sounds so hauntingly hypnotic in your mellifluous tones. Your eyes are closed, and you sway to the melody, lost in reverie, in the narrative you weave.

The piano stops abruptly.

“Can we help you, sir?” an elder lady calls crisply.

Benedict realises the door has crept open slightly before him, enough for him to be seen by your music teacher. He watches as you swing around and look horrified that you may have an audience. It makes him take a resolute step forward into the room.

“Do you need us to desist? Is it perhaps too loud?” the lady checks deferentially, likely assuming him to be the head of the household.

“No!” His reply is a touch too forceful. “Please continue,” he modifies. “I was merely drawn by the splendid sound I heard. I am not sure I have ever heard such a wondrous voice,” he adds, keeping his gaze steadfastly upon the lady, not able to look you in the eye as he confesses as such.

—

You are mortified when you realise Benedict heard you singing; you have always managed to keep it private, until now at least. But now your heart is suddenly pounding at his extolling words.

“She does indeed have a most excellent voice,” Ms West concurs with his sentiment, looking at you expectantly as Benedict walks further into the room, his face with the same hopeful expression.

“I am not sure I can…” you stumble, nervous for an audience, most especially him; his is the opinion that would matter to you the most—you would be crestfallen should he not like it.

“Sing more for me, please, Skylark?” His ask is gentle, beseeching as if it were just the two of you alone.

“Skylark?” Ms West sounds enchanted.

“My childhood nickname for Miss y/l/n,” Benedict explains as he takes a seat.

“Skylarks have a wonderful song,” she sighs wistfully.

“Indeed,” Benedict chimes, his eyes still upon you. “I never knew how appropriate it was until this very moment.”

Something warm cracks in your chest at his sweet words, making you courageous. At least enough to nod when Ms West looks to you again from the piano. And so you restart the song for your special audience, heart in your mouth. The words coming easily to you, an extra layer of meaning he will never know as you sing words of unrequited devotion, looking to him in your braver moments. His face is enrapt, leaning forward, his eyes soft and expressive.

As you reach a high note at the end of the song, holding it, Benedict bursts into applause, jumping up from his seat and taking you by surprise, grabbing your gloved hands in his.

“You should always be singing Skylark…” he pronounces. “Truly beautiful. Please promise me, no matter what happens, that you will always, always sing…”

You duck your head briefly, unsure how to deal with his effusive praise. Ms West’s face is a picture as you stand there, your hands still trapped in his, feeling a tingle where the warmth of his skin seeps through the layers to yours.

“I-I-I promise,” you reply meekly, a touch dazed as you raise your eyes again to meet his, the intensity making your lungs restrict.

“Thank you.”

Two words have never sounded so sincere or loaded with significance.

III: … And I Do.

A few days later, it is the Trowbridge Ball, a decadent affair that is usually the most talked about of the season, apparently. You share a carriage ride there with Benedict and Eloise, trying your best not to stare at him—so handsomely dressed in a white cravat and black velvet cropped jacket that clings to his tapered shape. But mostly, you fail. Your skin flushes hot the more you look at him. You could swear that his gaze strays to you, too, subtly sweeping the fine teal silk Madam Delacroix has expertly tailored for you.

“You look beautiful this evening, ladies,” he offers politely to both you and Eloise.

“What do you want?” Eloise cuts across your reply, narrowing her eyes at her older brother, instantly suspicious of his flattery.

“Can I not compliment without an ulterior motive?” he frowns, their usual sibling dynamic emerging.

“Not usually,” Eloise sniffs, with another suspicious glance, before looking out the carriage window.

You take the opportunity to mumble your thanks to him. His responding smile warms your entire being, his hazy eyes lingering in a way that makes your skin prickle. And when he offers a chivalrous hand to assist you down from the carriage, you could swear his hand lingers upon yours a few seconds longer than is necessary.

Around an hour later, as you go to partake in a refreshment, a sneering Lady Cowper utters something cruel under her breath as you pass, her sour-looking daughter smirking beside her. You do not hear all of the words, but you do not need to. One sideways glance tells you all that you need to know. It seems so unnecessarily cruel, never having even exchanged so much as a word with you, but even as you feel a lump in your throat, their attention is already elsewhere.

“Ah! Mr Briddgerton,” her entire demeanour changing to oleaginous charm, “my daughter looks particularly stunning tonight, does she not? I do believe you should secure a place upon her dance card before there are none left!”

You watch Benedict blanch at the very words.

“I do not dance, Lady Cowper, but I bid you ladies a good evening,” he responds, polite but firm.

You try your hardest not to giggle at the disdained look on their faces as he sweeps past them, and you feel light as air as, instead, he draws up to you and winks.

“That woman does not realise she is doing her daughter’s prospects more harm than good with her brashness,” he comments dryly as he grabs a glass of champagne from the stand next to you.

“I am not so sure the daughter would do much better without her; she seems perpetually furious about her own hairstyle,” you opine sardonically, making Benedict snort loudly into his champagne glass. A lightness fizzles in your being as he shoots you a look of unmistakable admiration for that remark.

“I daresay you are a much better dancer than her,” he contends, not breaking eye contact, placing aside his drink before leaning in and continuing in a hushed voice. “Perhaps you would do me the honour of a dance, Skylark, to confirm my suspicion?”

There is a vault in your chest as he employs your private nickname in public and, not only that, is offering you a dance when, just a moment ago, he declared publicly that he would not.

You can only nod, heart hammering, as he breaks out into the most handsome smile, offering you his arm and leading you to the centre of the room as you hear a ripple go through the nearby crowd. Apparently the sight of one Benedict Bridgerton taking to the dancefloor is a rare occasion indeed.

—

As he takes your gloved hand in his and curls an arm around your shoulder, he realises this was perhaps a mistake. An impromptu offer, the hollow thrill of petty revenge for the insult he observed the Cowpers sling at you. But now he realises it has rather backfired upon him.

He cares not a jot for the gossiping, people nodding and pointing to you both as you begin to dance. No, the problem is much more concerning than that.

It is how discombobulated he feels having you in his arms.

How your body seems to fit and move perfectly with his. How, when you dare to look up at him, his mouth goes a little dry. He has never truly noticed how striking your eyes are until seeing them this close. Indeed, the evident beauty of your face, the way you seem to glow from within, more tonight than ever. It makes his chest - and somewhere else on his body - feel entirely too tight.

—

Nothing could have prepared you for this.

The feeling of literally being swept off your feet. With Benedict's handsome face smiling down upon you as you seem to float around the dancefloor.

Surely, this is what dreams are made of?

You know it is a flight of fancy, but it seems as though the floor beneath your feet is a shower of diamonds rather than candlelight refracted through chandeliers. The warmth and strength of Benedict’s embrace caged around you, respectful but so close it makes your lungs feel too small to gasp the air you need to keep moving. But you never want to stop. A whirlwind of sensation as you twirl, carried away by the music, the man, the moment.

“Thank you, Benedict,” you breathe, knowing you are likely looking up at him far too adoringly but unable to mask it, a burning need for him to know how grateful you are for this dance, not even noting your over-familial use of his first name at a society event.

His eyes flash and you could swear they dilate a fraction before you must turn your back to him, following the steps.

“I was right,” he rumbles cryptically from behind you now, his large hands wrapped around yours as you hold them aloft together, following the moves of the dance. “It is indeed an honour to dance with you.”

Your belly flares as you turn in unison and realise that you are now dancing right in front of Cressida, her expression murderous. It makes you bolder than you have ever been, tilting your head sideways a fraction so your cheek almost brushes Benedict’s, fuelled by the envy you feel seething from within her.

You could swear he sighs ‘Skylark’ as his hot breath tickles your ear, your chest pounding, a flavour in the air you can taste, a powerful stirring low in your belly.

—

Benedict knows this is a dangerous path and yet is powerless to do anything but walk it. Breathing your nickname into your hair as he inhales your scent, heightened by the movement of your dancing. A light, sweet floral perfume but underneath the smell of you, familiar from many years of friendship but altered now, more decadent, an undercurrent of tart berries that thrills and stirs deep within him. Even while knowing his ever-vigilant mother is watching, an inscrutable expression upon her face.

He is almost grateful when the music ends before he does something foolish. But then you are staring up into his face, all doe-eyed expectant beauty and his tongue feels unexpectedly tied. He is almost grateful when an interrupting hand wraps around his shoulder.

—

You watch Will Mondrich whisper in Benedict’s ear, and before you know it, he is offering apologies to you with a shallow, polite bow before hurrying away. Coming back to reality with a bump, you drift awkwardly from the dance floor, feeling judgy eyes upon you, suddenly flooded with concern your behaviour was entirely too wanton.

Before your thoughts can spiral too far, however, someone materialises at your side.

“I do so hope your dance card is not full tonight, Miss y/l/n,” a newly-familiar, chipper voice cut in.

“Lord Glassborough,” you breathe; your relief at seeing his cordial face is palpable. “I am available to dance right now,” you smile politely, taking his proffered arm and letting him lead you back out to the spot you and Benedict had just vacated.

As the music begins and you move together, the difference is… noticeable. Gone is the frisson over your limbs, that excitement as if your skin could vibrate off your bones. Instead you feel comforted, almost a brotherly presence as he leads you in the dance. He is technically proficient, but it feels lacking—that tension, that heat burning in the space between you. It makes you yearn for Benedict even though he was just with you. It makes your stomach settle with a leaden weight you realise you will have to settle for less than what you truly desire.

Still distracted by your mental comparison, you absently acquiesce to his suggestion to take some air upon the terrace as the dance ends. You sense Violet, ever the vigilant chaperone, follow as he leads you into the cooler air outside.

“Miss y/l/n…,” Lord Glassborough begins cautiously. You sense a nervousness in his being, pulling your full focus to him. “I think us most compatible, would you not agree?”

“We make most excellent friends, indeed, Lord Glassborough,” you hedge, not wanting to appear overzealous.

“And friendship is the most appropriate foundation to build something more… tender,” he argues with a smile. “I do believe I could offer you a most agreeable life.”

There is a strange twinge in your chest as suddenly, you realise what this is. The moment everyone, except perhaps yourself, has been awaiting all season.

“I would be honoured if you would consent to be my wife, Miss y/l/n,” he humbly offers a sincere kindness shining in his eyes.

And there it is. An offer of marriage from a perfectly nice, respectable gentleman done in an appropriate manner.

To one side, you see Violet clutch a hand over her chest, face delighted, even as you form fists within your delicate gloves, wishing this moment were not happening so soon after a truly breathtaking dance with the man of your dreams. Who is not the same man as the one before you, nervously shuffling from foot to foot, awaiting your reply.

“I am honoured, Lord Glassborough,” you answer cautiously, bowing your head demurely. “This is a big decision to make. Please allow me time to give you my proper, considered answer?”

“Of course,” he bows chivalrously, his accommodating nature making this moment all the more bittersweet. He is indeed a lovely man.

He is just not the one you want with every fibre of your being.

—

That night, you cannot sleep. Knowing you have the most significant decision of your life to make. So, in the small hours, you find yourself drifting to the deserted kitchen of Bridgerton House to do what you do best when you need to think calmly—baking.

An activity you have grown up doing with Mrs Parsons. Many hours spent happily with flour dusting your hands, sun streaming into her grand but homely kitchen. A perhaps slightly maverick pastime for a lady of her social standing, with staff to do such things for her should she wish it, but so very enjoyable nonetheless.

Throwing a large, heavy baking apron over your nightdress and robe, you potter around, the flagstone of the basement floor cold underfoot, a grounding feeling that stops your mind from racing too much.

You have no idea how to respond to Glassborough’s proposal. On one hand, he is a seemingly nice man, certainly of a good family. You are sure he would be a perfectly acceptable husband, unlikely to be mean or untoward. It is just… a nagging voice is telling you to turn him down despite him being an imminently sensible choice, your heart wanting, well, the impossible. A man that excites you, not just a safe, practical option.

You are onto your second batch of lemon and rosemary biscuits when a voice makes you jump out of your skin.

“What on earth…?”

There in the doorway is Benedict, looking confounded to find you here. The very man who makes your heart skip, always. He is dressed the most casually you have ever seen him— also barefoot, in a white frilled shirt and dark trousers, brocade braces slung around his hips. You swear you may have to grab the bench before you to stay upright.

“Y/n! We have cooks you can call upon at any time should you need food!” he fusses, instantly concerned, moving to ring a bell on the wall.

“No! Please do not!” You exclaim, rushing to stop him, grabbing his sleeve in your haste. “I-I enjoy baking. It is relaxing; it helps me to think.”

His brow knits and his eyes flick down to your hold on his sleeve, a warm vein pulsing under your fingertips. You snatch your hand away quickly, a blush staining your cheeks, mumbling an apology as you scurry back to your biscuit-making.

“Alright,” he concedes slowly, still appearing confused. “When I saw the sconces lit from the rear stairwell, I assumed one of the staff was still down here.”

You find it bemusing that he seems at pains to justify why he might also be in the kitchen, especially to you, a guest. This is Bridgerton House, and he is a Bridgerton. He may go wherever he pleases, surely? And yet here he is, doing so.

“I was rather hoping for some hot cocoa,” he explains with that soft, crooked smile that always makes your heart flutter.

“Oh! Well, umm, I could make you some cocoa?” you look down, wiping your hands upon your apron and moving to do so.

—

That you would make such an offer, as if seeing yourself as unpaid help, spurs him into action.

“No, you certainly will not!” He decries, moving swiftly towards the larder before you can. “I am perfectly fine with some cold milk,” he assures, re-emerges with a bottle and pouring himself a glass, leaning back against the sink to take a sip.

Despite the lateness of the hour, he finds your heretofore secret pastime strangely fascinating. A lady who bakes. By choice. So he watches as you return to making your biscuit dough, entertained as you begin to beat the mixture quite furiously with a wooden spatula.

“Have those ingredients caused you some sort of personal offence….?” he jests lightly, nodding to the bowl.

He observes a flit of contrition across your face before you answer.

“I, umm, have a decision that I must make; baking helps me think,” you explain vaguely, then appear to rapidly change the subject. “I am, however, sure of one fact - some biscuits are a must to accompany milk. There is a completed batch over there.”

“Genius,” he opines with a wink, enthusiastically moving to grab one from the cooling rack you signalled to, delighting in the blush that darkens your cheeks. But he decides to push the topic you abruptly avoided. Concerned there could be a topic you are genuinely wrestling with. If his opinion on the matter can ameliorate your burdens, he would be most honoured to assist.

“What sort of decision must you make?” he inquires before temporarily losing the power of speech. There is an explosion of tart lemon and earthy herb on his tongue that melts into a buttery sweetness, utterly divine. “Lord alive, these are delicious!!!” he exclaims around the mouthful.

“Thank you,” you answer softly.

You are always so modest about your talents; it sometimes makes him want to grab your shoulders and shake you gently. To make you see what he does.

“To answer your question, it is a perplexing matter that needs serious consideration,” you explain, stopping short of detail. It appears you are not yet ready to share the news with him. Something about that makes him a touch sad, but he also does not want to pry if you are reluctant to divulge.

—

Benedict swallows the bite he has taken, and you find yourself staring at the movement of his throat as he does. Knowing one thing to be true—if it were his proposal, you would not even hesitate for a split second. That wistful thought makes you suddenly melancholic, and you sigh, pushing aside your mixing bowl, realising this may be an issue baking will not fix.

“I do so hate to see you doubt yourself, Skylark,” he offers quietly after a beat, mien so earnest. “Trust yourself. You will find the right answer for your dilemma; I am certain of it.”

He is so remarkably supportive that, ironically, you almost want to scream at him.

“I should leave you to your thoughts,” his tone is gentle, reluctant.

“Please, there is no need, Benedict,” you try to assure. “To be honest, in all of this world, yours is the company I enjoy the very most…”

That truth is out of your mouth before you can censor it.

You sheepishly glance over to be met by a surprised look on his face. He takes a few steps towards you, probably without realising it, and suddenly, he is very close, faint wisps of his woodsy, citrus cologne tickling your nose.

“And I, yours, Skylark…” he rumbles, his gaze falling to your lips.

Time seems to stop, and you feel pinned under glass, staring up into his handsome face as he breathes slightly ragged, your body rioting as he engulfs your senses, definitely too close to be considered gentlemanly, polite…

…But then, he takes a sharp inhale and steps back as if coming to his senses. He turns heel with a hastily muttered goodbye, and before you know it, he is gone. Leaving you bewildered, your thoughts scattered.

—

The following day, Benedict is idly reading the paper, partaking in a leisurely lunch of tea and cake, when his mother swans in, reeling off a set of instructions for her lady's maid.

“Oh, and lastly, do not forget, we should secure an appointment with the modiste, in case Miss y/l/n should know her answer today…” Violet concludes breezily as she takes a seat.

“Yet another ball we must suffer, mother?” Benedict drawls drily, folding down his paper and taking a hearty bite of zesty lemon drizzle.

She shoots her son an exasperated look before neatly smoothing a serviette into her lap as she is served her usual afternoon Earl Grey by the butler. “Miss y/l/n will be in need of a wedding dress, Benedict, dear.”

He spits an array of crumbs onto his newspaper, coughing in shock. “She will need what?!?” he wheezes, barely recovering.

“Lord Glassborough proposed to Miss y/l/n last night, my dear, at the ball. She has yet to give her answer, but I am certain she will. They are a fine match,” Violet declares, taking a sip of tea.

“Why did she not mention it to me?” he mutters, more to himself than anyone, his forehead creasing heavily in a frown as he swallows the rest of his mouthful.

“Why would she have?”

“We talked last night…” letting slip perhaps too much in his perplexed state, lost in his own tumbling thoughts.

“When last night? We returned from the ball very late,” a suspicious tone in his mother’s voice, belatedly releasing he should know better than to think aloud; she is sharp as a tack.

“I-I found Miss y/l/n baking last night… in the kitchen when I went for cocoa… she told me she had a dilemma she was wrestling with…” he admits, looking down at the paper, the words now a jumble before his eyes. “Mother do you think it is possible she will say yes??” Benedict's head snaps up, his heart suddenly pounding in his ears.

“She would be a fool not to,” Violet points out, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow at him. “Unless there was another, perhaps more wanted, proposal she could consider. Do you possibly know of one? Son?”

Even he can read between those lines.

“I-I am late,” he abruptly changes tack. “I promised to meet Anthony today to discuss the soil at Aubrey,” he bustles rapidly, standing and fleeing the room before he can allow his mother to see how much of a complete lie that is.

—

Benedict spends the afternoon at White’s, downing perhaps one too many whiskeys as he grills his fellow patrons upon the Glassborough family. Looking for any reason he can find to object to the betrothal while steadfastly refusing to examine why he feels so passionately about the subject. He also spends time checking the hefty tomes of Debrett’s the club holds.

He returns to Bridgerton House just as dusk settles in, the sky streaking red and pink as he enters.

“Where have you been, dear?” Violet asks as he rounds into the parlour.

“Researching,” he gruffs economically.

“What? Or rather whom?” Violet inquires, revealing she already has a firm idea of what she asks.

“I can find nothing wrong with him!”

Benedict paces, an energy emanating from his being as if he is rattled by that very fact.

“That is a good thing, is it not, son?” Violet reminds pointedly. “We want y/n married to a good gentleman…”

Benedict shoots her an exasperated look but relents. “I suppose…”

“Is not your reluctance perhaps for another reason, my dear?” Her question is gentle, if not particularly subtle.

He slumps into a wingback chair with a defeated sigh. “Go ahead. Say your piece, mother.”

“I have watched you, darling,” she begins gently, watching him tip his head back and screw his eyes shut. “I do not know exactly when, but your regard of Miss y/l/n has altered, and I am not the only one to observe it.”

Benedict's eyes fly open, and he tips his head down with a frown as his mother continues.

“Even Colin has marked a change in you. If you feel anything, my dear, then Miss y/l/n has the right to know. Before it is too late. The right to make an informed choice if you are bold enough to give her one. Son, I have only ever wanted my children’s happiness. And if your happiness lies somewhere that perhaps even you have not realised until now…. well then I encourage you to follow it. Follow your heart.”

Her impassioned speech suddenly makes the pieces of a jumbled jigsaw before his eyes arrange into a pattern, a way forward that is suddenly clear and sharply in focus.

It makes him leap to his feet, an urgency thronging in his being.

“Where is Miss y/l/n?” he almost barks.

“I do not know,” Violet confesses, “but I do know she has not yet seen or written to Lord Glassborough,” she adds.

“Good…” he rasps, headed determined out of the room to find you.

—

The verdant lush grass is cool between your toes as you curl them over, sighing heavily, the night now dark, a twinkle of silver among the navy sky, soon to be black. The swing under the big oak, a refuge you have sought many times since staying at Bridgerton House, feels a particularly poignant place to be tonight as an internal war rages within you, your decision swaying back and forth as much as the wooden seat you are perched upon, the rope digging into your cheekbone as you slump against it, flummoxed.

You know what your answer to Glassborough should be. Indeed, what it should have been from the moment he asked.

A resounding yes.

In every practical measure, this is the best possible outcome of your London season. A proposal from a thoroughly decent, acceptable gentleman, way above the station you were expecting, given your less than prestigious certainty of lineage.

And yet.

There is a large part of you, your heart, that wants to turn down the proposal, foolhardy as that may be. Wanting to feel akin to what you felt as you danced with Benedict last night. You are not so foolish as to believe he would ever propose, but perhaps there is someone else out there for you that may evoke something similar for you? Even if only half, it would be enough. Enough for you to build a future around and feel contentment in your heart, to not just settle for what your head knows to be a sensible choice.

—

Having searched the house, he rounds into the garden and stops short, heart leaping into his throat as he spies you, swaying gently upon the swing, looking thoroughly lost in thought. It makes his chest ache that you are so melancholic about a decision that should indeed be joyous. The selfish part of him celebrating, hoping that perhaps you are not. His memory recalls with perfect clarity how you have looked as lost as he now feels every time you have been close. The unbearable lightness of hope seizes his legs and draws him inexorably closer.

—

You whip around as you sense company and have to take a deep breath as your eyes fall upon Benedict. His face pinched with a restless intensity.

“I was hoping I would find you,” he exhales.

“You have,” you shrug, still confused by his crackling energy, him seeming in a rush to say something.

“Skylark, you deserve the very best of everything. Sincerely. And part of that includes that you should know the truth in the hearts of those lucky enough to know you…” a slight quake in his voice as he takes a step closer.

“Alright…” you respond cautiously, your brow creasing as you sense the nerves emanating from him.

You gasp as he rapidly drops to one knee before you, a hand clutched to his chest.

“I have been a fool to not see it before now. My own ardent admiration for you, for your talents, for your beauty. I realise now, perhaps too late, that you are truly the most wondrous, precious being in this world. You may not always see it, but it would be my greatest honour to show you, every day, if you will permit me, what I see when I look upon you. What I have always seen if I am honest with myself. A light that shines brighter than any other, a bird that soars higher and sings more sweetly than any other. A soul that it would be a privilege to be bound to. I know it is perhaps the worst possible timing, seeing as you already have a proposal from a perfectly acceptable gentleman. Still, I could not let you get married without letting you know the contents of my heart.”

You are stunned. Speechless.

Your heart pounds in your ribcage as you sit there stupified for what must be an age, Benedict looking upon you expectantly, breath slightly ragged from his long speech. Somehow, convincing yourself this could only be a dream. That the man you have adored since before you can remember has just made the most beautiful poetic confession of love you have ever heard. And it’s to you.

So, you do the only logical thing that comes to mind. Pinch your own leg. Hard.

—

Benedict is momentarily confounded at your actions.

“Owwww!” you yelp. “Not dreaming then…” is your muttered follow-up, rubbing your own knee as his face morphs into the most enormous grin, a lightning bolt of joy tearing through him as he realises what you are doing, that you can scarcely believe this is happening any more than he can.

“It is really me, Skylark,” he chuckles softly, seeing the way your eyes dilate rapidly as he can't help the lopsided grin that claims his face, a warmth behind his ribs that is just for you.

“I realise that now,” you sass back, and there is a stirring in his trousers at the tone you employ.

“I love you.”

It's a reflex; he doesn't even realise he says it. But as soon as it's out of his mouth, it's like an invisible burden has been lifted from his entire being. The truth. Plain. Simple. Honest.

—

You know your face is aflame as you snap back at him, entirely without meaning to, but then he says three little words that tilt your whole world even more.

“I-I-I love you too.”

You are bewildered when you say it aloud.

The truth. Plain. Simple. Honest.

“Marry me? Please. My darling, wonderful friend,” he implores, his bare hands grabbing yours, tingles shooting over you as your skin touches his.

“Yes!! I will!!!” you answer breathlessly, not even a second of hesitation.

He leans in and captures your lips with his. They are warm and soft as they move gently with yours. And when he opens your mouth with his and his tongue rolls delicately over yours, it feels as if all the fireworks you have seen in the sky live now inside you, popping and exploding in a riot of colour. A whole new world of sensual pleasure is promised in that one move.

“Are you certain?” you murmur as you break apart for air, a flash of insecurity that this is happening so fast, even as there is a strong pull inside, a want to keep kissing him over and over.

He smiles, tilting his forehead to yours, a wistful look in his blue eyes.

“To know you, truly know you, is to love you, Skylark,” he sighs, his words a blanket settling over your quaking heart. “And I do. I truly do.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @notanotheruniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #1k notes #2k notes

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tteokdoroki · 6 months

Text

☆༉ — YUUJI ITADORI. isn’t it weird? how love never changes.

about. no matter what anyone says, yuuji itadori’s love for you is unwavering and he hopes that you’ll never see a reason to change. not for anyone, not even him. (1K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters are aged up to 20s and in college, weird gf and jock bf, yuuji is a jock and has obnoxious teammates, reader is an introvert and wears glasses, selfship coded i fear, fem!reader.

“itadori, don’t you think your girlfriend is a little.. weird?”

the pink haired jock blinks once, then frowns as he tugs a fresh shirt over his head — practice with his soccer team had ran a little longer than anticipated and he didn’t feel like coming home to you, his girlfriend, in a stinky old shirt.

yuuji’s not sure when the topic of locker room talk had switched onto him and his love life but he cares enough to bite — not about to let his teammates talk smack about his girl. “where’d you get that idea from?”

another teammate speaks up. “when she comes to your games, she wears your sweatshirts but doesn’t cheer for you at all.”

“she’s just shy, nothing wrong with that.” yuuji counters.

“whenever we hang out at the after partie she’s always… clinging onto you… doesn’t drink with any of us.”

“i told you, she’s a little shy,” he stands up a little straighter this time, narrowing his eyes. “and parties aren’t for everyone. she might not like them but she’s there to support me. shouldn’t that be enough?”

“but dude…” someone else speaks up. “don’t you find any of that strange? like she’s just… weird.”

yuuji can’t get home fast enough after that. he almost falls to pieces when he sees you singing and shuffling your way through the cupboards in his dorm kitchen — making yourself a snack. he loves it when you stay over and he gets to watch you like this, so calm and at ease in his space. he feels grateful to even be sharing it with you.

weird isn’t a word that yuuji itadori would use to describe his girlfriend.

he finds you intriguing. your relationship is still new, so all of the differences between you both interest him beyond belief. each time he discovers a new habit of yours (like the way you forget to take your glasses off when you sleep) or a fact about your life before college, or finds out something obscure relating to your hobbies and interests… yuuji can’t help but to fall in love with you all over again. like an astronomer who’s searching for the secrets of the universe, the pink haired jock wants to know every interesting little detail that makes you, you.

that’s created the very person he loves today.

“please never change,” yuuji breathes against the back of your head once he’s home. you can’t even comprehend the speed at which he’s dropped his gym back before he’s wrapped himself around you in the same manner that a boa constrictor would. only more affectionate. “and if you do, let me change with you.”

being this close to itadori, you can smell his baby-fresh soap and the tinge of sweat from his work out. you can feel the strength of his arms as they squeeze you close from behind — like he’ll never let you go. he makes you feel loved even when it’s not on purpose, you go your every waking moment cared for and adored by yuuji itadori. it’s always subconscious, unwavering and steady. your love is stable like that, never dampened from those outside of the two of you — that much will never change.

“that’s a big ask, yuu.” comes your contented hum, but you don’t stop your actions — continuing to make your snack while the pink haired jock squeezes you tight. as if to become one with you. “people change all the time.”

you hold up a hand behind you and he sucks the peanut butter from your thumb eagerly. “i know, but i don’t want what anyone else says about you or us to make you change,” he mumbles petulantly against the shell of your ear, trying to find the right words as he tucks his face into your neck. “you’re perfect to me, as you are.”

it’s cute that he reminds you of such a trivial little thing. those big brown eyes of yuuji’s see perfection in all of your flaws. he loves you so much you wonder if how much you feel for him even compares.

“what’s gotten into you?” you giggle, spinning in his arms to stand on the tips of your toes — pressing a soft kiss to the point at which your boyfriend’s jaw meets his neck. it’s all you can reach. “did something happen?”

yuuji hesitates for a moment, lips pursed and honey-glazed eyes cast to the side. he would never lie to you, that’s not in his nature — but he’d never want to hurt your feelings either. “the guys…the guys on the team said some stuff about us today,” his voice trails off and his hands trail upwards, dipping underneath the jersey of his that you wear to draw circles into your waist using his rough thumbs. he figures it’s best to tell you before one of his teammates let it slip and hurt your feelings. he would rather die then let that happen. “they… they think you’re weird and that… that we’re too different.”

“o-oh.”

a flash of pain comes with the territory of yuuji’s honesty, but he’s quick to soothe it as though he’s running your burn under a stream of cool water. “but i like you. like…really really like you,” the words rush out while his eyes stay serious and set in stone. your boyfriend grasps both of your hands firmly before you can even think to cry or pull away.

yuuji is there and he is constant and that is never changing. not for anyone, except for you. “and i like all of the funny things about you. that you’re a little quiet, that you’re always by my side, that you leave me notes in my gym bag or share your celebrity crushes with me. i like you for you. even if you’re a little weird — then…then i am too!”

his hands, strong and yet so soft, traverse up to your round cheeks — tilting your head up to face him. “please don’t ever change because of what people say,” yuuji repeats tenderly, his lips finding the crown of your head in a gentle kiss. he stays there, like a magnet on metal and the world stands still for a moment. remaining the same, no longer changing, so that yuuji itadori can love you as is. “the way you are right now, it’s everything to me.”

itadori only moves when you tip your head back to get a better look at him, he looks down at you through his unfairly long lashes — brown eyed gaze latching onto yours while your hearts sync up, beating to the same drum. “i’ll never change, as long as you promise to always love me like this.”

“i’ll love you the same way that i always have. like i’m the luckiest guy in the world, yeah?” he laughs and you smile — because it’s hard to be upset when yuuji is around, and protects your love so genuinely.

you lean up and he meets you half way — pressing a slow and lingering kiss to the swell of your lips, wrapping his arms around you once again as you away to a silent tune in his tiny dorm kitchen.

change is inevitable of course. the two of you will grow and become different people than you are right now — but you will always find your way back to the beautiful love that you hold.

much like a butterfly that blossoms into something beautiful too.

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darknight3904 · 7 months

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All Yours, Coryo

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪:ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅꜱ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ʙʀɪɴɢꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ɴᴇᴡ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅᴛʜɪʀꜱᴛʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛᴜʀɴ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇx. ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɴᴀɪᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɪꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʙʟɪɴᴅᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ'ꜱ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʜɪꜱ ʀᴇᴅ ꜰʟᴀɢꜱ. ꜱᴏ ᴀᴍ ɪ.

ɪ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛʟʏ ʜɪᴛ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʏᴇꜱᴛᴇʀᴅᴀʏ ɪɴꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴏ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀᴡ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴇᴀʀʟɪᴇʀ, ɴᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ.

ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ.

Coriolanus has never been the easiest person to understand. His mind was always racing and it kept you on your toes. Even now as he fretted over his appearance in the mirror you could tell his mind was thinking of a million things beyond whether or not his tie fit him correctly.

"For what it's worth, I think you look perfect." You say, sipping at your drink, you had been ready for nearly twenty minutes while Coriolanus was still figuring out what tie matched his pants best.

"I'm sure you do but this isn't just any party, I'm campaigning tonight and everything must be perfect." He says adjusting his hair even though it already sat perfectly styled atop his head.

It was Coriolanus' 23rd birthday and instead of celebrating like you usually did, you were both spending it at a party full of people who might help him reach the presidency by the beginning of next year. You approach him and wrap your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

"It will be." You assure, pressing a kiss to his exposed neck where his makeup artist did a wonderful job at covering the marks you had left behind last night.

"If all goes well tonight, you might just become the first lady of Panem one day." He smiles at you through the mirror

"Does that mean we're getting married?" You laugh, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the idea of being with him forever

"Maybe..." Coriolanus says suddenly avoiding your eyes as his face reddens under your gaze.

You giggle at your boyfriend's flustered face, despite how grown up he had become in the past few years he was still the same boy you met at the academy all those years ago who just wanted his own bowl of fruit to gobble down.

"You definitely wanna marry me, Coryo!" You say almost as if you had discovered a secret of his.

"Well if you're not interested I can always find another." He jests, finally tying his tie.

"Oh please, I'm the only one who could ever tolerate you." You smile as he spins around to face you and rests his hands on your hips

"That you are, darling, that you are." He smiles and presses a chaste kiss to your lips

Coriolanus is sure you are his favorite person in the entire world. From the way you'd laugh at his jokes to the way your nose whistled when you slept, he loved it all. Even now as the two of you had long abandoned your teenage years and stepped into adulthood, he knew he didn't want to lose you. His interactions with Lucy Gray and his time in District 12 had only solidified how he wanted you to stay close to him. He watches as you cross the room to slip into a pair of pretty high heels, he loved the way your dress sat on your body, it was perfectly fitted and he wondered what designer had been able to craft it so perfectly.

He looked back at the mirror and pretended to fiddle with his outfit again even though he knew he looked perfect. Instead, his eyes cast to the small table next to the mirror where a collection of photos sat you and him over the past five years. His favorite though was the one that was taken at your 17th birthday party. He remembered how warm it had been, and at one point someone had filled a bucket of water and tossed at you. He had expected you to cry out and push everyone out of your home but instead, he was met with your laughter and thus a water fight had begun. The picture of the two of you had been taken not even twenty minutes later, both of you were drenched but happy and you had linked your arms together right before the picture was taken. Sometimes he wished to go back to those moments, to relieve the last bits of his boyhood even though it meant going back to that decrepit building he once lived in and the taste of cabbage a constant on his tongue.

"Thinking about the past?" You ask from across the room.

"Thinking about how ugly we look here." He says picking up the photo

"Nonsense, we're adorable in that. If I remember correctly that was taken a few weeks before you tripped me in my room trying to slow dance and then you gave me the kiss of a lifetime." You smile

"I didn't trip you, you tripped me with your bad dancing." He laughed, returning the photo to its proper place among the others.

"Whatever you say, Coryo." You smiled, he could tell you didn't believe one word that came from his mouth about the tripping incident.

These parties were always a bit tedious for you. You enjoyed seeing Coriolanus happy among Capitol elites and you loved the lavish dresses you got to wear but sometimes it became overwhelming. The sheer amount of reporters that were always at these things is what drove you crazy. Coriolanus ate the attention up and answered all their questions about how he'd change Panem for the better but you were usually left answering questions about what your dress was made of or what your relationship was with Coriolanus. He often assured you that once he won the presidency he'd have more control over what was asked and that you'd never have to answer another dress question again. You hoped he won as soon as possible, it was tiring pretending this line of questioning was interesting.

"Is that real gold on your sleeves?"

"Is that ring on your finger an engagement ring?"

"Who did your hair for the evening?"

"Are you going to have the future president's children?"

"Did you seduce Coriolanus Snow for power in the Capitol?"

"How many toes do you have?"

God you wished they'd all shut up, or at least get better questions. Even just something as small as your involvement with your father's company would've been better than this. You ignored whatever trash was coming from their mouths and held on to Coriolanus' arm like he was going to disappear and end up back in District 12 again.

You remembered that day very well, after Coriolanus' tribute had won he had just disappeared despite promising to walk you home after the games had ended. When he didn't show up for graduation either, you found yourself outside Tigris and Grandma'am's new residence looking for answers. Tigris had told you what happened with him and that girl, Lucy Gray, how he cheated with rat poison and a handkerchief of his father's. At first, you had been distraught that he was sent off to District 12, stuck there for twenty years as some peacekeeping grunt, you'd be an ugly middle-aged woman by the time he got back! You had been in the pits of despair about your relationship with him but all it took was one terrifying meeting with Dr. Gaul to change your attitude. Once she revealed that Coriolanus would be back in the Capitol soon, and she was simply testing his dedication to the games, you relaxed. While Dr. Gaul might not have all her marbles you knew she wasn't lying, and sure enough, your Coriolanus returned to you in a matter of weeks.

However, he returned to you differently though. Sure, his head was shaved like all Peacekeepers and the curls you loved to play with were gone, but his attitude had also changed. Perhaps it was that Songbird he never wanted to speak of even now. You could never quite place what happened between Coriolanus and her, all that mattered to you was that he had assured you it wasn't romantic. Just shared ambitions to both win something. In her case her life and in his the Plinth Prize, not that that went well for her since she had disappeared shortly after she went home. You weren't quite sure what to make of Lucy Gray, the mysterious Songbird who had enchanted all of Panem just five years ago. You had only spoken to her once and it was just to compliment her singing during her interview. She hadn't exactly impressed you with her in that moment but she must have impressed Coriolanus at some point if he was willing to break rules for her.

Or perhaps his change was due to whatever training Peacekeepers went through and the death of Sejanus that had rocked the entire Capitol when he was revealed as a traitor, you knew Coriolanus had been close to him. Of course, despite all his changes and attitude adjustments, he never applied them to you. So, here you stayed by his side, happy that he still loved you the same. Soft touches and sweet words remained constant as the two of you aged and explored the advantages of adulthood. One of your favorite things about being 23 was moving out of your family's home and into the penthouse Coriolanus had chosen for the two of you. Waking up next to Coriolanus each day and seeing how he looked before his eyes fluttered open had to be your favorite part of the days you spent together. Brushing his hair from his eyes and counting the freckles that just barely brushed his pale skin was something you did daily until his pretty blue eyes met yours again. Once he did wake though, it was hard to get him to stay in bed with you. His peaceful state was always replaced with a man who was always working towards something, ambition was always fueling him.

You didn't mind his rough exterior that emerged each morning though, Coriolanus was cold and hard on everyone but you. Perhaps it was your shared childhood memories and teenage romance that prevented him from treating you coldly like he did poor Tigris but you weren't sure. One thing you did know was that the boy you grew up with was gone and a man stood in his place, brooding and cold to everyone but you.

"I'm going to get us a drink and then if you want we can dance." He whispered in your ear

"Can you get me that fizzy lemon drink they usually serve?" You ask

"Of course, I'll bring you some of those hors d'oeuvres you like with the cheese as well."

And then, he was gone from your side moving expertly through the crowd. That dazzling blonde hair accompanied by the broadest shoulders you've ever seen on a man disappeared among the throngs of people craning their necks to get a better look at the future president and his pretty face.

"A true marvel isn't he?" a voice to your right said

You turned to be met by none other than Lucky Flickerman, a drink in one hand and a young child's hand grasped in the other.

"I'm not interested in doing an interview, Lucky. If you want information on Coryo you can ask him yourself." You say, ready to walk away from the Capitol's favorite news anchor turned Hunger Games host.

"Coryo...what an interesting nickname, a bit childish for a man who might watch over us all soon. No matter, I would however absolutely love to report on you one day and maybe even that big business you're the heiress of, but I'm actually talking to you for this little one tonight." Lucky smiles motioning to the boy who you guessed was his son. "He was admiring that stunning dress of yours and I thought he might want to see it up close and personal."

For once you didn't mind being asked about your clothes as you crouched down to the little boy's height, he couldn't be more than 5 or 6.

"You have a good eye, would you like to feel the fabric? The designer I met with made it wonderfully soft." You smile, thinking of how Tigris had gushed over the blood-red fabric that would perfectly match Coriolanus' suit with you just weeks ago.

The boy reaches his hand out and brushes it along expensive fabric and a smile grows on his face.

"What's your name?" You ask

"Caesar." He says "I just turned 6 last week."

"Well, Caesar, six is a marvelous age to be, you can do all sorts of things at six. In fact, when I turned six I learned to ride a bicycle for the first time, I did however scrape my knees half a million times. I even still have a few scars on my knees would you like to see them?." You smile at him and he nods.

"Lucky Flickerman, I thought I told your producers that you weren't allowed to bother her with your idiotic questions the way the other reporters do. You clearly don't value your job, if you did you would have listened to my words." Coriolanus' voice suddenly fills your ears as you quickly right yourself, remembering how he once told you you'd have to start holding yourself with more decorum at these events. 'No more acting like a stupid teenager' had been his exact words one night when you were eating dinner together in your shared room.

"It's fine, his son wanted to say hello." You smile down at Caesar, take your lemon drink, and pop some of the food Coriolanus brought with him into your mouth. You sincerely hoped that you weren't about to witness Lucky being fired by the newest mastermind behind The Hunger Games and future the president.

From the corner of your eye, you see Coriolanus cast an intimidating look down at the boy and you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs and force him to apologize to the poor child who was now cowering behind his father's stylish pant leg.

"I'll see you later, Lucky. We are going to go dancing now." Coriolanus says setting your barely sipped drink and food on a tray of a passing server before whisking you away.

"You're bad with children, Coryo." You say as he leads you towards the dance floor.

"And you're bad at reading people, darling." He says, ignoring the way you pouted at your loss of lemon drink and cheese-sprinkled food.

"What do you mean?" You ask, confused

"Lucky just wanted to get you to answer questions about me," Coriolanus says as he leads you in a dance, the both of you had gotten exceptionally better since your failure at 17 in your childhood bedroom.

"Oh." You say, a bit sad that he wasn't genuinely interested in you, just another dumb reporter who wanted news on Coriolanus' next move. It was amazing how Coriolanus always knew what others were thinking and how to approach a situation best.

"It's alright, just ignore him next time," Coriolanus says, gently squeezing your waist as a form of reassurance.

You nod and rest your head on his shoulder as you spin around the dance floor, suddenly wishing you were tangled up in bed with him rather than dancing in heels that were pinching your toes.

"Can I confess something to you?" Coriolanus whispers, his lips tickling your ear.

"Of course, always " You reply honestly

"I hate seeing you interacting with them." He says in a low voice.

"Them?" You ask

"These people. Seeing them ask you questions about your dress or hair, makes me want to toss them into the arena and watch one of Gaul's mutts rip them apart. I hate the way they look at you like you're a piece of meat attached to my side." He says, possessiveness lacing his tone.

"Oh...well I'm sure they don't all think that way." You try to reason, hoping that he wasn't right about this read on others.

"I doubt it. Look at that one by the fountain in the blue jacket." He says nodding to his right.

You glance over to the fountain and see an old man with a fluffy white beard and white hair to match. He seemed to be carefully watching you and Coriolanus spinning on the dancefloor but you weren't quite sure.

"I'm positive he's standing there imagining what it'd look like if this pretty dress was on the floor and you were on top of him," Coriolanus whispers, knowing it'll have you blushing in his arms.

"Coryo..." You say, trying to keep your composure as he presses his body to yours while you wonder if he's truly right and the old man across the pretty courtyard is truly ogling you.

"Too bad I'm the only one who will ever know what that looks like." He says a certain arrogance in his voice you can't quite place.

"Stop it." You scold, trying to hide the fact that your face is as red as your dress.

"Why? I can't wait to get back to our bedroom tonight and bring what's in my head to life." Coriolanus laughs, his voice was husky in your ears and making you weak in the knees.

"You're so embarrassing, Coryo." You say into his chest, avoiding that sharp gaze he had. How could someone act so well-composed but also have the dirty mind of a perverted teenage boy?

Coriolanus stops leading your dance and hooks a finger under your chin so you're looking up at him again. Sharp blue eyes that felt like they were staring into your soul looked at you, full of passion and want.

"My heart burns for you, darling, as it always has. You're mine, my perfect girl, all mine." He promises before swooping in to deliver what might qualify as the most monumental kiss in all of history.

A certain warmness spreads across your body as he kisses you in public for the first time. It's moments like this with your Coriolanus make your heart swell, these moments remind you that the little boy with the golden curls you met when you were just twelve lives on, just in a different way. You know the teenager you once ate cabbage soup and bread with sweet jam watches over you as you kiss his 23-year-old self, you know he's smiling at where the two of you are now. You're sure that the same boy who once spun you around your childhood bedroom to your favorite slow song is still here with you now, even if he rarely shows his face. Coriolanus Snow is always watching over you, every version of him envelopes you tonight as he shows the world who you are to him.

Your head spins and your lungs burn as you hear a few whoops and cheers from onlookers while others whisper about how Coriolanus' hands are wandering all over your body. You're sure the way he's kissing you is going to end up on some Capitol news reel tomorrow morning but you can't find the heart to care. Somewhere in his chest, you feel Coriolanus let out a deep groan when you run your hands through his hair ruining the way it was perfectly styled for the evening. You gasp when his teeth nip at your bottom lip and pull away, a gasp for air leaving your now surely swollen lips.

"All yours, Coryo." You assure him and lean in for another kiss.

You smile as he kisses back and couldn't care less about what the world around you thinks, you had your Coryo, the boy who you grew up with and ate cabbage together in his decrepit home, the same boy who danced with you despite his own lack of skill. You were with your Coriolanus, the man who was going to carry Panem into a new age of glory.

Part Three

Series Masterlist

Read the Teaser here

So I uh sorta ended up abandoning fluffy Coryo thoughts from part one and went with the reader's pov of him at 23, I hope that's okay with all of you. He still loves you though don't worry, it's just in his own Coryo way. His own magically manipulative Coryo way. I was initially going to make this part during the 10th Hunger Games but then I thought, wouldn't it be interesting to see how he interacts with reader post Lucy Gray considering how much she changes his ideals. To make things clear, every moment with Lucy Gray and Coryo has occurred and the reader is unaware of pretty much all of it here, obviously since she's so goo goo gah gah over him.

If you'd like more of my writings about Coryo and you, my fic Blank Space might be the read for you, it also has a part two that is available now You can read them both here. (Yes it's based on the Taylor Swift song)

Taglist:

@bl0ndelilac

@lucygreene

@lwqfhp

@belle643

@fantasylovestoryme

@alana4610

@threeinchminimum

@dangelnleif

@hannaeditzs

@1950schick

@ennycutie

@janelongxox

@ajs-222

@or-was-it-just-a-dream

@notlilyyyy

@nicksolemnlyswears

@diannana

@ashrsworld

@lokidala

@clintsupremacy

@brilliantreid

@badassbitch-21

@steppingonshatteredglass

@405rry @folklorde24

@eir964

@charlesswife

@fangirling-galore

#the hunger games #fanfic #coriolanus snow smut #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #katniss everdeen #mockingjay #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #lucy gray baird #tom blyth #rachel zegler #coriolanus snow fluff #sejanus plinth #thg #tbosas #coriolanus snow x fem!reader

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harunovella · 4 months

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*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language (verse ii); s.g.

synopsis: when gojo satoru first interacted with you content: teen gojo era, fem!reader, hopeless!romantic gojo, 1k+ words of gojo and reader saving a kitten (a moment straight out of a romcom for sure), not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: truly didn't think the first part to this anthology series would gain such attention! thank u for that! again, these can be read as a standalone (or connected to this one, but you don't have to read it); enjoy and lmk if u want more!

It was this specific cherry blossom tree Satoru always found you under. The one Kento mentioned the first time he ever asked him about you. If you weren't busy with training or missions, or enjoying life outside the jujutsu world, he found you there. Although there was an array of trees, there was one specific one you seemed to gravitate towards.

He wasn't sure if it was the specific spot that had good lighting for when you wanted to read or sketch in your little book, or maybe it was the way the roots formed a perfect spot to sit in between... whatever it was, he knew it to be your tree. Even when you weren't around. There was something... welcoming about it. Whenever he walked by with Suguru and Shoko nearby, or whenever he was aimlessly wandering around, he always found himself peeking in its direction, hoping you were sitting underneath it.

For a confident young man, it took Gojo some time to make his way to you. Claiming to love you when he hadn't even uttered a word in your direction was bold, even going as far as believing you were his soulmate was quite the exaggeration. So why was it hard for him to simply say hello?

Maybe it was because he wasn't a simple person. Nothing about Gojo Satoru screamed simple. He was anything but that. Yet, a task as easy as that—which came naturally to any other girl around him—was a hassle. Each time he thought he found the courage to step up, he let his racing heart deter him.

That was until you made the first move.

It caught him completely off guard, the way you gently tapped his arm from behind, peeking up at him with that sweet smile of yours. His heart did somersaults, his eyes widened behind his round frames, so big that his shades couldn't even hide them. He had been on one of his little walks, new treat in hand that Shoko bribed him with in order to practice her reverse curse technique on him. He was bored, completing his missions and not having much to train on when he already excelled at everything.

At everything except talking to the girl of his dreams.

"Hi," you kindly greeted, smile reaching your eyes. Oh, god, you were an angel. A being descended from up above. How could you exist so easily in such a cruel world? He needed to protect you, right? Even if he could see your cursed energy oozing out so brightly. You must've been powerful, something he never considered, always looking at you like you were some little bunny to keep in his pocket... not one who could possibly kick the shit out of him (if he'd let you and he definitely would). "Can you help me out?"

"Pretty..." the words slipped his mouth before he could even process them. Quickly sealing his lips and clearing his throat as you tilted your head, Satoru straightened his back. "What is it?"

Dismissing the sudden word vomit, assuming he was in his own world, you pointed to the left of you. "I sit under those trees, but I keep hearing soft meows coming from one of them. I'm too short to reach... do you think—"

"Yes," the white haired young man instantly nodded as you blinked. Without a second word, he turned on his heel and stalked towards the tree that you claimed your own.

You, a bit baffled, were unsure as to how exactly he knew which tree you had been pointing at when it was a general direction. Yet, there he was, approaching the tree you were referring to. "It's quite high up, but you're very tall!" You called out before following after him, lightly jogging to catch up before stopping behind him as he eyed the tree.

In reality, Gojo didn't think any of it through. He just wanted to say yes to be around you, to hear you speak more. Not... to climb up a tree to save a stray kitten. But, whatever made him look better in his eyes, he didn't mind.

"Be careful!" You exclaimed as you watched him make his way up the tree, no hesitations. You were a bit surprised that someone so easily wanted to help you save a cat. Maybe he liked animals, too?

Or maybe he was a fool madly in love with you—you wouldn't know this yet.

"Oh, there! You've got 'em!" You clapped as you watched the uniformed young man gently reach for and latch onto the small, white kitten.

"Ah, don't worry, I'm only here to help you," Gojo said, carefully pulling the kitten towards himself. "I've got you, you're safe now. I just gotta figure out—"

"Watch out!" You shrieked.

"Shit!" Satoru yelped as he lost his balance, clutching the kitten close as he slipped from the branch. Landing with a loud thud, followed by several groans of pain (and pure embarrassment... when did he ever make himself look like a complete fool?!), Gojo rolled around with his eyes closed.

"Are you alright?!" You panicked, rushing over and kneeling at his side, gently lifting his head with one hand as your other pressed carefully against his shoulder, eyeing his body for any wounds.

"Agh... dammit..." he grunted, eyes fluttering open and adjusting to the brightness of the sun. Blinking a few times, blurred vision focusing, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of you. Your hair that was usually held back by its ribbon, cascaded around your face as a few strands slipped out from the ponytail. With eyebrows narrowed and a look of worry on his face, Satoru's embarrassment turned into that of timidness. You were engulfed by the sunlight, glowing like the angel you were. "Gosh, you're so pretty..."

"Are you okay?" You asked in a panic, his mumbled words coming off too slurred to understand. "Did you hit your head too hard?"

Shaking his head as he forced himself to sit up, Gojo rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. "No, 'm fine..." he sighed before looking down at his hands to the kitten. "So is this little guy."

Turning your attention from the white haired young man, to the matching kitten, you gasped, "what a hero!"

Grinning and feeling the heat rise to his cheeks, Gojo shrugged, "eh, ''twas nothing..."

"You almost broke a few bones, though..." you frowned, looking back at him.

"I'm tough," he brushed off before turning to face you. Now eye to eye, the sudden confidence instantly sizzled away as he gazed at you from up close. A sudden silence weaved between the two of you as your eyes locked, nothing but the sounds of nature and the kittens purring filled the air. "I..."

"Um..."

"You should keep it," Satoru suddenly said, handing you the kitten. "Deserves a nice home."

"Oh, me?" You asked as you took the kitten in your hands, caressing its soft, white fur.

"Yeah, I wouldn't be a good dad," he chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. "You... You'd be a great mom to it, I'm sure."

Eyeing the kitten, then looking back up at him, you smiled, "we can coparent."

At your offer, Gojo gulped. "Co... parent?"

"Yeah, like, help me out with..." lifting the kitten up, you squinted your eyes, "her."

"I... I don't know much about taking care of animals but I can try and help as much as I can," he offered, scratching his head nervously.

Smiling, you brought the kitten close to your chest, "you saved her from a tree, I'm sure she will remember that."

"Yeah, maybe," Satoru blushed.

Looking down at the kitten as you pet her, listening to her gentle purring, you happily sighed, "what's your name?"

Quickly pointing at himself, the blue eyed boy asked, "mine?"

"Mhm," you nodded.

"Gojo. Gojo Satoru. You can call me Satoru, though," he nearly blurted out as you chuckled before giving him yours.

"Well, Satoru," you beamed as he melted at the sound of his name slipping off your tongue, "I think I'll name her after you."

"Wha— Satoru? But... she's a girl?" He tilted his head with furrowed eyebrows.

"I was thinking of a nickname," you said before looking down at the kitten. "I'll name her Toru. It's cute, right?"

Nodding slowly, then faster, Gojo agreed. "Yeah, Toru is cute."

Lifting your gaze to meet his, you gave him a toothy smile. "Toru it is."

#harunovella writes;#gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk au #fem reader #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x y/n #reader insert #jjk x y/n

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matchingbatbites · 10 months

Text

"What the fuck did you do?"

Eddie wasn't expecting hostility when he answered Jeff's phone call, his best friend's usual calm demeanor replaced with open annoyance. And yeah, okay, the annoyance itself wasn’t new, but Eddie doesn’t think he’s actually done anything recently to earn it.

"Well-"

"Actually, no. I'll tell you what you did. You retweeted photos of Steve Harrington - internationally beloved heartthrob actor Steve Harrington - along with the caption 'not to sound like a subby slut but GOD I would be his puppy baby boy in a heartbeat'. So I guess the better question is, what the fuck were you thinking, Eddie?"

Eddie's jaw clicks shut because- yeah, he had done that. Had seen those photos of Steve smoking circling the internet and spent god knows how long just staring at them, had curbed the desire to shove his hand down his pants by posting a single thirst tweet about it.

“I was thinking, Jeff, that I'm allowed to post whatever I want to my private fucking twitter, man. I mean it's a free country, isn't a guy allowed to make a horny tweet about a sexy man every now and then?”

“You are, when you actually post it to your private account and not our award winning band's main account.”

No. Oh no. There's no way Eddie actually-

He rips his phone away from his face to open twitter, and realizes two things simultaneously. One, Jeff is right, he had posted it to the band's account. Not on his private, locked, personal account, but on the account that's actually open and free for literally anyone on earth to look at.

The second thing he realizes is that their notifications are currently flooded with responses to Eddie's tweet, somehow racking up into the thousands in the few hours it's been since.

Jesus Christ.

“Eddie?”

The metalhead jerks back into the moment and put Jeff on speaker so he can scroll through the horde of replies, says “Fuck, I fucked up. Are we gonna have to do damage control on this?”

In the mess is a reply from Gareth's own personal account: @ corrodededdie stop tweeting from the band account challenge 🙄🙄🙄

”Maybe. There hasn't been any type of response from Harrington or his people, but they might ask us to take it down if it blows up too much.“

Eddie hums, thinking they might be too little, too late about it blowing up too much, and flips over to his main account so he can reply to Gareth's little jab appropriately. He isn't surprised to see that he has a couple of new messages, probably from other people wondering just what the fuck Eddie was thinking, but when he goes to check them-

He's never been happier that he turned on messages from followers only, because then he would have missed this, missed Steve Harrington's little profile picture beaming up at him from the screen of his phone, along with a new message request.

”Jeff, I gotta go,” he says, not even realizing he's cut the other man off.

“Eddie, what-

”Harrington messaged me. I'll call you back.“

Eddie doesn't wait for a response as he hangs up on Jeff, and his hands definitely aren't shaking as he opens the message from Steve. And listen- Eddie is a fan of the guy, that much should be obvious.

Steve had grown in popularity around the same time Corroded Coffin had; he’d gotten some part in a drama film that had skyrocketed him into stardom, and Eddie fell in love the moment he saw that gorgeous face on the silver screen for the first time. He's never had a chance to interact with the guy, has been in the same place a few times but always missed him, like ships passing in the night, but Eddie's been fine with pining from afar, just like every other person on the planet that's even remotely attracted to men.

Besides, even with how popular Corroded Coffin has gotten over the years - a couple of Grammy’s here, a dozen chart topping metal songs there - Eddie doesn’t expect Steve to just. Know who Eddie is.

With all of this in mind, Eddie is expecting some kind of semi-casual request to take the tweet down, that it's not a good look for his image-

Anything other than what Steve actually sent.

'If you're puppy baby boy, does that make me Master? Or Daddy?'

And Eddie-

Eddie slides down, sinks into his couch cushion as all of the blood in his body suddenly shifts, rushing to fill his dick like it's a fucking race. The phone almost slips out of his hand and he fumbles it briefly before taking a deep breath.

Is Steve serious? He wouldn't send that if he wasn't serious, right?

This could be it, could be Eddie's one chance to impress Steve, to get his foot in the door of Steve's interest. He bites his lip and types out a reply, something quick that he sends before he can change his mind.

‘I’m open to either, actually. Do you have a preference, sir?’

He doesn’t expect the typing indicator to come up immediately, and just knowing that Steve is somewhere right now, typing out a response to Eddie, is enough to have him nearly vibrating in his seat.

‘I’m partial to Daddy, myself.’

Fuck fuck fuck.

Eddie takes a breath, tries to think of a response that isn’t just ‘Please, Daddy, can I sit on your massive dick that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since that one indie film you did that just had all of your junk out in the open?’

Steve saves him by sending another message.

‘But maybe we could start with Steve, and possibly dinner? Though I’d be happy to see where things go after that.’

He- What-

Eddie must have stopped breathing, because the next time he takes a breath his lungs burn, his mid races because there’s no way Eddie’s long term celebrity crush just asked him on a date. He sits there long enough that the screen goes dark and he scrambles to turn it back on, sees the message still there, real and unchanged.

There’s no way he can say no to this, to Steve, and his hands shake as he types out a response.

‘Dinner would be great. Just name the time and place, Daddy.’

#like everyone else those new pics of joe keery left me kind of #feral. horny. slutty.#so i channeled my feeling a bit #i miiiight do more of this but no promises #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #rockstar eddie munson #actor steve harrington #joey writes #ficlet #fun fact: eddie's tweet was my actual real life message to my friends about those pics

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luvth0t · 3 months

Text

RIDICULOUS ━ L.N

in which lando can longer cope with you laughing at the mere idea of being with him, and you realise it wouldn’t be that ridiculous. but it may be all too late.

warnings; nswf, smut, unprotected sex, friends to lovers, lando in the friend zone, implied that reader is a year or two older than lando, little bit of angst, choking, soft dom!lando, silly reader, overstimulation i guess, lotta praise, oral, fluff at the end if you squint

lando was infatuated the moment he met you.

it took a while to realise how strongly he felt, considering he met you at arguably the most chaotic time of his life.

his first year in f1, carlos his teammate; meaning you were around every race from the start, to this day.

he wanted his own photographer after a mere few interactions with you, but quickly realised he only cared about photos because you were the one occasionally taking them.

carlos signing for ferrari meant lando was losing two people; his teammate and you. his friend.

he’d jokingly asked you to jump ship, work for him instead. if only you knew how serious he was being.

you never looked at lando the way he looked at you. he was like a friends annoying little brother, one you couldn’t help but pity and adore.

he made you laugh, was fun to be around. a change from the personality’s you would come across in the paddock. it was no shock to you that carlos built a bond with him ━ as did you.

since joining ferarri you didn’t see the brit as much as you’d like, not that carlos’ new teammate was a let down. charles was lovely. you didn’t feel invasive taking shots of the pair of them.

but you still kept it touch. occasional group outings, dinners and celebrations. you weren’t oblivious to the way he always made time for you. but you were naive to the deeper meanings.

his flirtations were nothing of concern, to you it was a running joke. amongst many of you; you didn’t think lando actually wanted anything from you beyond platonic.

he could handle rejection. but being laughed at? he could only cope for so long.

“he begged me to invite you tonight,” carlos’ words were teasing, directed towards you yet his eyes rested on lando; out for dinner with a few other team members from mclaren carlos hadn’t caught up with in a while.

melbourne was one of your favourite races for this very reason, having to get here so early meant you had time to catch up with those in the paddock away from the craziness.

lando’s eyes lifted from the menu he was reading; scoffing immediately, already prepared to jump on the defence ━ not giving you a chance to speak.

“i was making sure you hadn’t forgotten anyone, y/n included.” lando corrected, flashing you a grin in the midst of his explanation, one you mirrored.

“i’d like to think my presence would be a given,” you huffed back at carlos; and lando felt a fool for allowing his heart to jump at the prospect of you also defending him.

“of course it is. just saying, lando was set on making sure you’d be here.” carlos smirked; eyes now on his own menu, pretending as if he wasn’t attempting to stir the pot.

“he misses you,” an engineer spoke up from besides lando, nudging the british driver who could only roll his eyes; not at all unfamiliar with being targeted with such banter. he copped it a lot worse when you were all on the same team.

“mhm, misses me. not carlos.” you grinned; practically bragged ━ nudging carlos this time; you’d grown a talent it seemed for redirecting the topic of conversation. trying too at least, and the way lando smirked made it clear he appreciated your efforts.

he’d nodded as well, confirming your words. in no way ashamed to admit he missed you more than the spaniard, while it didn’t seem like there was any truth to his words with the playful smile on his face; the assumption couldn’t be any closer to the truth.

“if you miss her so much you should go out for dinner just the pair of you,” carlos challenged quickly; earning an eye roll from yourself and a small giggle at the idea ━ oh the shit show that would be, you and lando out for dinner. you could read the headlines now.

lando caught the way you laughed, you however missed the way his eyes snapped to you in the moment. the way his smile faltered, merely from watching you completely dismiss and laugh at the idea of spending just a single dinner with him alone. what’s so funny about that? could it really be the most absurd idea? no matter how many times you reacted in such a way it always stung.

he recovered almost instantly however, like he always does.

“wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings, know you don’t like to be left out.” lando mused; earning another laugh from you ━ one that was music to his ears, hearing you laugh at his jokes was always enough to have him holding his chin a little higher.

“oh i’d be more than happy to see you finally get out of the friend zone.” carlos regretted his words the moment they left his mouth, catching the way lando’s smile fell and jaw tensed ━ quickly realising his teasing may have gone too far.

your lack of reaction killed lando more than carlos’ words did, the way you barely battered an eyelash ━ completely unbothered while he sat here trying to not pop a blood vessel. he wanted to defend the relationship or friendship you had, but there wasn’t much to defend.

because carlos was right, he was painfully stuck in the friend zone.

“how much longer till you realise these jokes got old two years ago?” you sounded awfully unbothered as your gaze remained on your menu, only looking up when another engineer spoke up.

“it’s just a joke?” he’d asked in full seriousness, eyes flickering between yourself and lando. he wasn’t on carlos’ side of the garage, always working on lando’s side. he barely interacted with you; only heard things through the grapevine.

“obviously.” you spoke as if it was…obvious, and the laugh you let out would’ve softened the blow of your words had lando not already heard this a thousand times.

“ah, ah, ah. don’t forget about silverstone.” carlos simply couldn’t keep his mouth shut; bringing up the night where everyone was convinced you and lando spent the night together.

which would be valid if you actually had, but you hadn’t. you went home together purely because you both were tired. he dropped you at your hotel room, didn’t even come inside. somehow no one believed either of you when you squashed their suspicions that ‘lando’s wish had finally come true.’

“don’t be ridiculous.” you scoffed, shaking your head ever so slightly. lando’s silence would’ve been deafening if others weren’t jumping in to speak, and maybe you would’ve noticed his lack of input if you spared him a glance.

he was managing to muster a fake smile, it was almost painful. any amusement he was clinging too had vanished, wanting the conversation to be over with.

“it’s not ridiculous.” carlos huffed; and lando almost wanted to nod in agreement. thank him even. because it wasn’t ridiculous, he didn’t think so at least. it made sense to him. you made so much sense to him.

“it is.” the nail in the coffin, lando couldn’t keep smiling anymore. you sounded oh so certain, all the while the smile hadn’t left your face. “come on now,” you added in exaggeration at carlos’ unconvinced face.

lando wasn’t sure what you said next, he didn’t want to hear it. he couldn’t figure out why hearing all of this was suddenly unbearable, but before he knew it he was not so subtlety excusing himself ━ something about getting another drink, before standing up and bee lining to the bar.

the abrupt departure didn’t halt anyone else’s movements, conversations continuing and carlos joining in a debate with his cousin and his old mclaren press officer; while your attention got stuck on lando’s full glass ahead of you.

he didn’t need another drink.

you watched as he weaved through the crowds, the way he failed to smile at anyone he passed by; the tension clear in his jaw; it almost appeared as if he was scowling.

it was funny, because your first thought was if you offended him. but you couldn’t figure out what possibly could have; it was laughable how unaware you were of his feelings.

“i’ll be back,” you excused yourself, standing up and following in lando’s directions without any hesitance; a slight frown on your face as you dodged people left and right to get to the bar.

you weren’t sure why the prospect of upsetting him upset you so much, but the sudden urgency to check on him was too powerful to ignore.

“rude to not offer a girl a drink you know?”

lando’s eyes only shifted towards you for a mere couple of seconds when you made your presence known. he could count on one hand the amount of times he wished to be alone when you were near, but this was one of them.

he was drained, unable to fake any more smiles or shrug off any more comments. blame it on the jet lag.

“apologises,” he hummed; not offering you another glance which had your suspicions confirmed, your furrowed brow showing concern not that he could see. his blue eyes were focused ahead on the busy bartender.

“you good?” you internally cringed as the words left your lips, unable to figure out a way to address the sudden mood without sounding overbearing or overstepping.

you watched as his shoulders tensed; as his eyes strategically continued to avoid you, only making the pit in your stomach feel deeper, as if it could swallow you whole.

“peachy.” his sarcasm was clear, and while it would usually be a relief it wasn’t laced with the usual humour. it was blunt, dismissive ━ and if you had any doubts left about being the reason for him running off, they were now squashed.

“did i say something━ did carlos say something?” the questions stumbled out of your lips in concern, biting down on the inside of your cheek. “i’ve tried to tell him to lay off with the jokes, it’s stupid i know.” you began to ramble.

lando finally let his gaze land on you, and the sight of your sympathetic eyes and worried frown had him feeling guilty. which was ridiculous, but suddenly he felt an urge to reassure you he was fine. that you hadn’t said anything.

but you had.

“it’s not the jokes,” lando cut you off; hands running over his head, even letting out a laugh at how pathetic he sounded. he was going to continue, explain it further; but he stopped himself.

he couldn’t. it was a can of worms that must remain shut.

you stood in silence for a moment, under the impression he’d keep speaking. but he didn’t. leaving you with no explanation; just further confusion.

“no?” you hummed; eyebrows raising. “because i totally get if it is. it’s ridiculous how they keep going on━” you were rambling again, trying to make the situation better. attempting to ensure he felt heard, that he could speak to you about what was bothering him.

so oblivious to the fact you were just digging yourself a deeper hole.

there was that word again; ridiculous.

“is it? is it really that ridiculous?” lando couldn’t stop the question from flying out of his mouth; only now turning to properly face you; in time to catch the dumbfounded look on your face from his question.

it took a few moments to try understand what he meant, coming up short as you stared at him clueless, lips parting to try come up with something to say but falling short.

“is what?” you mumbled, suddenly all confidence was gone. almost scared to hear the answer; purely because you recognised the doubt and regret illustrating his face.

but lando had nothing else to lose, you’ve rejected him in front of everyone else without realising. what’s once more?

“us. dinner us two, having gone home together in silverstone. this?” lando sighed out like it was obvious, hands waving between the pair of you.

because to him it was so obvious. the amount of times he’s almost asked you to join him for a meal, just the pair of you.

maybe if he had you’d see what he saw.

silverstone meant so much to him, having expected nothing from you but he thought about the taxi ride back to the hotel more than he’d like to admit. he could’ve sworn you’d been flirting with him that night.

he even thought it would’ve been the start of something.

optimism was a curse however, because stupidly lando thought perhaps after finally expressing his feelings that maybe you’d reveal your hidden reciprocation. that maybe you were scared like him.

but instead all he could see was shock. and confusion. and fuck, was that sympathy?

“what?” it was a weak response, but all you could muster. you were attempting to find any other explanation for his words, to figure out what he could be implying.

lando had to laugh, shaking his head as he faced the bar again; hands running over his face as you quickly realised he was being fully serious.

“it’s not━ we’ve never━ i mean it would be weird.” word vomit, you didn’t know what you were saying; usually so careful with your words you knew the moment lando looked at you in shock and offence you’d be haunted by that very sentence. “not weird━ but,” you attempted to fix your mistake, eyes screwing shut.

another laugh from him beat you to it however.

“ridiculous. i got it,” lando spoke through a breath, sounding incredibly defeated which had your stomach dropping.

you struggled to find words to assure him, still attempting to process what he’d just told you. you hadn’t ever looked at him in that way. he was always just… lando.

“lando…” you trailed off with a frown, only now starting to realise the position you both were now in.

the awkward tension was growing quickly and you’d never despised something so quickly. you refused to let this be the bitter end to your friendship.

“it’s fine. just drop it.” lando huffed, standing up straight; eyes finding yours once more. he didn’t want you to feel bad, he’d accepted long ago that his chances of you feeling the same were slim.

you can’t apologise for how you feel.

“no we should talk about it,” you disagreed, so much concern and care in your eyes it almost made him sick. he didn’t need that from you. and the last thing he wanted to do was talk about how he’d spent years pining over you.

he’d kept it secret for a reason, to avoid this.

“i’ll pass,” lando hummed; the half smile he mustered up did little to comfort you as he licked his bottom lip and glanced around the room. “i’m gonna head up,” he cleared his throat.

you’d gone to express your dismay with such thing, but he was walking off before you could get another word out; left alone at the bar dumbfounded and suddenly in need of a drink.

it would be quite sad to admit that one revelation could change your whole weekend. but it did.

you’ve never had trouble sleeping, in fact the jet lag usually knocked you out. yet you’d spent the best of your time in melbourne thinking through every word lando said. looking back on every damn interaction the two of you shared.

you felt like an idiot. because suddenly it made a lot of sense, what you failed to realise in the moment fell together piece by piece.

an insight into his intentions for the effort he’d put into the friendship over the last couple years was eye opening, and while you were unsure as to how you hadn’t assumed such thing sooner, you found yourself asking the question how it made you feel.

you’d be lying if you didn’t have a few moments of giddiness as you recounted certain times. how he drove you home from pre-season testing one time because you didn’t feel well. how he always got you flowers for your birthday.

suddenly your mind was consumed with the thought of lando every waking second. from the moment you entered the paddock on thursday you were looking for him. which didn’t make sense considering you had plans to avoid him.

you didn’t want to make things worse than they were. but for some reason he was the only thing on your mind, to the point it was becoming an issue as you tried to go about your work.

not once in your career had you been pulled up on anything, so when carlos questioned if you were okay friday afternoon ━ claiming you had been slacking, you knew you were fucked.

there’s no way you felt the same. surely not.

you had to stand by what you said. it’d be weird?

he was lando. annoying lando who couldn’t grow a speck of facial hair and flinched at the sight of fish.

except saturday, when you finally laid eyes on the driver again, it was cruel slap in the face of reality when you realised that was almost 5 years ago. you’d both changed. lando had changed.

you almost spiralled when you found yourself admiring the driver. had his mclaren top always been so tight around his biceps? had his skin always been so sun kissed? not to mention the way his curls sat atop his head.

you suddenly felt insane. you’d never looked at him in that light, never thought what if. but his confession had you a mess of thoughts, one’s you had to run away from. causing you to spend the rest of the weekend hidden away in ferrari’s hospitality.

you could only hide for so long, carlos had won ━ which was enough to get your mind off of the british driver for a whole 4 minutes until they were up on the podium together.

work was your priority however, but you couldn’t help but notice just how nicely lando photographs. you only ever focused on carlos, considering he paid your wage. but as you took shots and shots of the pair interacting before and after the podium from afar you couldn’t help but note how lando was practically glowing.

your head was a mess, and as you now stood in a random club in melbourne, you had no idea what your next move was.

you couldn’t exactly deny going out to celebrate when carlos had won. so your next wish was that lando simply wouldn’t be in attendance.

but he was, and your eyes hadn’t left him all night.

still having not spoken for days, you couldn’t shake the urge to congratulate him. yet for some reason you were scared, you didn’t trust yourself. fearing you’d say something you’d regret. which was a foreign feeling. lando was usually the easiest person for you to talk too.

however you could only stand in the corner with a drink as your only company for so long. a sudden wave of confidence washing over you, or more so desperation to stop being so childish, causing you to down your drink before setting off towards the british driver.

it was when you were only a few metres from him that you realised you should probably have a game plan, and if he hadn’t locked eyes with you there was a high chance you would’ve backed out. turned around and walked away.

instead you were left to improvise.

“good job today,” you smiled widely when you got into ear shot; unable to shake the tightness in your chest, feeling suddenly out of breath as if you had sprinted over here.

lando appeared much more relaxed than he had last time you spoke. which made sense. he’d put it on the podium, why wouldn’t he be in a good mood?

“thank you,” the driver grinned, unable to be stumped when he was still running high off adrenaline. plus, he figured you would pretend the other evening never happened. which he would happily take.

your script ended there however. you had no idea what to say. or where to look, since when was eye contact with lando hard?

“impressive from carlos,” lando managed to fill the silence, and you could feel the relief at the fact he’d saved you from creating an awkward silence.

“yeah, yeah i know. very proud of him. i’ll never complain about pain again.” you spoke through a dry laugh; one he mirrored, your lips pursing as you attempted to think of something, anything, to fix the mess you found you guys in.

to apologise for your rudeness? to explain your mindset? to just talk. you needed to talk to him, for your own sanity.

“look i just wanted━” you finally built the courage up to speak, but were interrupted as a blonde woman slid next to lando’s side, handing him a drink while doing so.

it shouldn’t have shut you up so quickly, but it did ━ eyebrows raising as you attempted to figure out how to respond to the image in front of you. one you’d never seen before actually.

“line was long,” the girl hummed in explanation, and you only just caught lando’s sorry eyes as his attention turned to the girl next to him.

he would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate the lifeline that was the blonde he’d just met 20 minutes ago. he did not need to hear your reasonings as to why you should just remain friends, not tonight.

“i’ll um, i’ll talk to you later.” there was no way you’d try get your words out again, not when you barely spoke up the first time. yet for some reason, you’d hoped lando had insisted you could speak now.

instead left to watch as he nodded and offered you a small smile; practically sending you off on your way.

embarrassment was the one word to describe how you felt as you made your way to the nearest booth, attempting to hide away and let the darkness swallow you whole.

apart of you felt you should be grateful, maybe being interrupted was a saving grace. god knows what you were about to say, you definitely didn’t. but right now you found yourself in the same position as you were 5 minutes ago.

it felt selfish. lando had practically admitted to having feelings for you, that’s what you gathered at least, and you’d been unaware for years.

you’d been slightly uncertain in your feelings for five days and you felt as if you were losing your mind. you had no right for an explanation really, but you needed something. attempting to decipher everything to do with the main man of mclaren was giving you a headache.

although your vision became a bit clearer as you sat and watched him interact with the girl who’d placed the drink in his hands.

it suddenly made sense why you hadn’t seen him like this before. his attention was always on you, his efforts and time focused towards you if you were in arms reach.

which you couldn’t help but feel grateful for as you sat and watched your new personal hell.

you didn’t want to label it as jealousy. because that would be ridiculous, but it was beginning to be hard to watch the way lando whispered in her ear and grinned widely as he earned a laugh or two from the girl.

were you mad at the sight or mad at your own reaction? you weren’t sure. it felt wrong, to feel so strongly when only a few days ago you’d laughed in his face about the prospect of being with him.

what was it they said about you only want what you can’t have?

“it should be illegal for you to be sitting here moping after i’ve won.” carlos’ voice snapped you from your thoughts, being met with the driver who slid into the booth opposite you, a sheepish smile forming on your features.

“i’m not moping.” you huffed, leaning back in your seat ━ attempting to look and feel relaxed, allow your tense shoulders to loosen, glancing back to lando once more before your attention was on the driver ahead of you.

“you have been all week.” carlos disagreed, eyebrow raising as you frowned; not having a reply because he was right. and suddenly you felt horrible.

“i’m sorry━ that’s the last thing you need with the couple weeks you’ve had,” you sighed, head falling into your hands. it was as if you suddenly couldn’t do anything right.

you missed the way carlos smiled, having looked at the direct reason of your problems moments prior.

“don’t apologise.” carlos dismissed, assuring you it was fine; and when you peaked up through your hands, the smile he was flashing you was enough to put your mind at ease. “i’m assuming lando said something.”

there it was. lando. again. back in your head. as if you ever got him out.

you only sighed, head falling back this time as you now stared at the ceiling. of course carlos knew.

“you knew?” you huffed out, it clear you already knew the answer.

“everyone does.” carlos chuckled, and you wish you too could take amusement from the situation. how comforting, this whole time you’ve either appeared as an idiot or the biggest bitch.

“why wouldn’t you tell me?” you practically whined, looking back at the driver once more; watching as he put his hands up in defence and innocence.

“i thought you knew.” carlos claimed, sounding so honest you couldn’t question him ━ nor blame him. you shouldn’t have needed someone to spell it out for you. plus, you’re not sure what you would’ve done if you did know.

because it wasn’t like you were handling the current situation very well.

you had no answer, just left him to watch as you sat wallowing in self pity. you should’ve never chased him to the bar.

“he’ll be fine. look at him, moving on already,” carlos attempt to comfort you was more like a punch to the stomach ━ because you had to stop yourself from glaring at him. had to stop yourself from spitting out how that wasn’t what you wanted.

you didn’t want that at all, and that thought was suffocating. you were in no place to come to terms with your feelings, but right now they seemed to be demanding to make themselves known.

“i need air.” you huffed as you stood up, thankful that you had taken notice of the smokers exit not too far from you.

the crisp air felt like a soothing blanket, hitting your skin the moment you got outside. the balcony was empty and finally you felt as if you could breathe; allowing your arms to rest against the railing as the music became muffled and the sound of melbourne’s night life filled your ears.

it felt stupid, staring across the city skyline as if it would answer your questions. maybe the stars could align and write out a solution for you, tell you what to do.

but with every passing second you didn’t find any clarity or idea on what to do, how to feel. you shouldn’t want him. you haven’t wanted him before. it isn’t fair to suddenly feel so drawn to him after unknowingly rejecting him for so long.

but it was the reality. you’d been exposed to the idea of lando wanting you; and with every passing moment it became clear to you it wasn’t weird. it sounded fucking incredible.

the music suddenly filled your ears again, moments later becoming muffled as you became aware someone had joined you outside. it wasn’t till they spoke that you tensed up.

“it’s cold out here,” his voice was instantly recognisable, you didn’t need to look at him to know it was him.

“too hot in there.” you hummed simply in reply, feeling his presence next to you as he joined you in observing the city skyline; although you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your head.

falling into a comfortable silence was the last thing you expected, both too scared to speak up and face the inevitable. if you could stay like this forever you would. it was the first few moments of peace you’d known all week.

“we can pretend the other night never happened. i don’t want things to be weird.” lando spoke, words so soft as if you’d break. as if he needed to be careful with you.

his whole demeanour had you frowning, turning to face him. he shouldn’t be fixing this mess, nor prioritising your feelings over his. not when both of you had neglected his for so long.

you parted your lips to disagree, to tell him that was the last thing you wanted. you wanted to talk about it. it’s all you needed to do.

but quickly you realised that was contradicting your initial thoughts.

“if that’s what you want,” you spoke through a breath; unable to understand how you still couldn’t find the right thing to say when this very conversation has been the only thing on your mind all week.

it was lando’s turn to stay quiet, you watched as he thought through what to say; practically seeing his mind tick.

“i just want to know why it’s so ridiculous to you.” lando practically blurted the question out, as if he was almost afraid he wouldn’t say it ever if he didn’t now. it’d been weighing on his mind, it killed him that he had no explanation as to why you were so against the idea of him in anyway that branched further than platonic.

and while you wanted to give him an answer, you didn’t have one.

“i don’t know.” you answered truthfully. “i never looked at you that way lando i…” you trailed off, eyes getting lost in his when you realised just how close he was. your admiration these past couple days from afar was one thing; but up close was a whole new ball park. “you were like this little kid, i don’t know,” you struggled to articulate your thoughts.

“yeah five years ago,” lando’s response was quick and blunt; even with the chuckle that escaped under his breath, it didn’t lessen the intensity in his eyes that were now pouring into yours. it was as if he’d been wanting to say such thing for years. he was challenging you.

you’d gulped at his words, because he was right and you’d only come to terms with such thing these past few days.

“yeah.” you mumbled in agreement, suddenly feeling small under his gaze; it was all so new. you’d been in this position with lando countless of times, why did you suddenly feel as if every nerve inside of you was being set alight? why did you feel as if you couldn’t dare look away from his eyes.

you could spot the moment lando realised the change in your behaviour, the way his eyes flickered across your face; his lips parting ever so slightly as he took a breath.

he recognised the look on your face, purely because it’s how he would always look at you.

“it fucking sucked you know? having to sit there while you laugh at the idea of spending the night with me. even just going on a date with me.” lando hummed, voice barely above the whisper because with the minimal distance he didn’t need to speak any louder. although if he spoke any quieter you’d be worried you wouldn’t hear him over the sound of your rapid heartbeat.

you didn’t know what to say, head tilting aside ever so slightly as you watched him take a step closer; dangerously close now yet for some reason you found yourself leaning further towards his frame ━ and the moment you let your eyes flicker to his lips you knew you were done for.

“m’ sorry,” you mumbled; eyes pouring into his once more as if that would ensure he knew you meant it, but he didn’t want nor need an apology. but god would he love an opportunity to change your mind.

it was as if you could act without thinking again the moment his hand cupped your cheek, lips pressed onto yours in a rush that had your hand moving to find a grip in his shirt.

you didn’t know how to describe it, but suddenly everything made sense as your lips moved together in perfect sync.

the moment almost came crumbling down however when lando pulled away only a few moments later, heavy breaths as his hand remained on your cheek; eyes looking down at you as if you were gods greatest gift to earth.

but as much as this felt like heaven, lando knew he couldn’t risk this just being a one time thing. he refused to get a taste of you just to be starved again.

“if you don’t━” lando barely got his words out, you had him read; could see the doubt beginning to creep in. as much as he hated being vulnerable it was almost self perseveration.

thankfully however you didn’t give him much time to worry, shaking your head before tugging him closer to you ━ reconnecting your lips with such certainty lando had no room to fear or doubt you.

it was all he needed, the lid was off and he finally could act on his wants ━ hands moving to grip your waist as he trapped you between himself and the railing, lips moving against yours without a care in the world that anyone could walk out and see.

it was as if the kiss was the answer to all your questions, suddenly it all made sense. lando made sense; you felt stupid, how had you denied yourself of such thing for so long?

your hands were tangled in his hair, his were clutching your sides for dear life ━ large hands pawing at your waist then your hips, having to stop himself from getting too greedy and travelling any further.

so caught up in him you quickly realised you needed to breathe, pulling away momentarily; yet you had no time to recover as lando only busied himself with peppering kisses on your jaw.

naturally you tilted your head back, a sigh of content escaping you as you invited him to explore more of you. and lando was not going to ignore such thing, soft kisses now pressed to the skin of your neck.

suddenly you were incredibly aware of the closeness, the way his body was pressed against yours; the cold railing behind you doing little to cool your hot skin; his knee pressing between your thighs having your eyes fluttering shut.

heaven was the only way to describe it.

but really you were on the smokers balcony of a crowded melbourne club, a reality that hit the pair of you as the door swung open and laughter and chatter was suddenly heard.

your eyes flickered to the group who appeared, lando regrettably lifting his head and glancing over his shoulder. the group was unbothered by your presence, you weren’t sure the pair of you were even noticed.

lando’s grip had tightened on your waist ever so slightly, as if you could slip away from him like the moment had.

“we should get out of here,” you spoke through heavy breaths as your eyes met his, watching as his lit up with both relief and eagerness. he only nodded, taking a step backwards as his hands ran over his now crinkled shirt.

the pair of you may had gotten yourselves together in those few seconds, but as you worked your way through the crowded club towards the exit, it was quite clear what had occurred.

the elevator ride only caused swollen lips and messy hair, and you struggled to keep your hands off of him once in the back of a taxi ━ kissing him was addictive, that’s the only thing you could think of right now.

the silence wasn’t awkward as you stumbled into his hotel room; only the sounds of quiet laughter as he struggled to find his room key. small curses escaping his mouth as he failed to move in the urgency he was currently feeling.

it was messy the way you both discarded your shoes and belongings, a few words and mumbles exchanged before he was tugging you into his chest again ━ lips once more reconnected.

the space allowed you to wrap your arms around his neck this time, body practically melting into his hold. you wanted to apologise again, explain your thoughts over the last few days, how your change of heart had occurred.

you weren’t even sure it was a change of heart; more so just now thinking about new possibilities.

but lando seemed to be the thing that could put those thoughts at bay, finally your mind was silent ━ all senses consumed with the man in front of you.

you weren’t sure which wall he’d backed you against but you didn’t care; welcoming the familiar feeling of his lips on your neck once more ━ taking the few seconds of your brain not being foggy to tug on the end of his shirt before trying to push it up his body.

he got the memo, ridding himself of his shirt and you could feel your breath get caught in your throat at the sight of his toned torso.

“what do you want?” lando’s question was matched with an intensity that almost had you squirming, his knee pushing between your thighs once more as you peered up at him.

you were suddenly lost for words, unsure how to vocalise what you wanted.

him. just him. anything he had to offer.

the feeling of his finger running up the side of your leg gave you plenty of ideas; but you were too flustered to articulate such thing.

the sight of you dumbfounded had him letting out a breathy chuckle, eyebrows raising in expectance ━ yet somehow it just had you squeezing your legs together.

“anything.” you mumbled, cheeks a tint of pink as he only smirked at your answer; you hadn’t realised how desperate you sounded. you weren’t sure you’ve ever sounded so needy.

“gotta be more specific pretty,” his grin told you he was revelling in your flustered state. how could he not? his mind was running wild with plans to have you a needy mess all for him.

the term of endearment was new, a boundary that had never been crossed in your friendship; yet it sounded so natural. what wasn’t natural was the way your heart seemed to flutter at the compliment.

“want me to touch you?” lando was almost mocking you as his hand moved to push your hair back out of your face, cupping the side of your head while doing so to ensure your eyes stayed trained on him ━ and the mere act had you falling further into submission.

it was pathetic, you were somehow able to identify such thing ━ standing here with parted lips and wide eyes, having nodded at his words almost too eagerly. you needed to control yourself, at least for now; he’d barely touched you yet.

“what do you want?” your words were no where near as confident as his, but you weren’t complaining; the confidence suited him, it only had you wanting him more.

you watched as his shoulders lifted in a slight shrug, attempting to keep your mind off his finger that was dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.

“want to ruin you so you’ll only ever think of me if another man touches you.” lando was honest with his answer, you hadn’t expected such words to escape his mouth. such bluntness, what sounded like a promise had your knees feeling weak ━ the idea sounding perfect to you.

but he wasn’t finished.

“want you to cum on my fingers.” he added quietly, your legs spreading ever so slightly as his hand finally ventured under your skirt. “then my tongue,” he practically chimed; head ducking down to your neck now, his hot breath fanning your skin.

thinking was only getting harder, his words were turning your mind into a puddle, much like the state of your undergarments.

“then my cock.” he concluded before paying extra attention to the skin on your neck, kissing intently as you let out a shaky breath.

attempting to process such words from him was difficult, but you were quick to figure out it sounded incredible to you.

“hm?” his hum was a taunt, head lifting to look at you once more, watching as you nodded quickly.

“please,” you practically whimpered, god you’d get on your knees and beg. lando almost groaned from the word leaving your lips alone, the way you were looking up at him with doe eyes had a grin forming on his face, one you mirrored for a brief moment.

the man couldn’t believe his eyes, a sight he’d dream of too many times was in front of him in the flesh and he wanted nothing more but to make sure you too would never forget these moments.

his lips returning to yours almost had you failing to notice the way his hand slipped under your skirt, finding your soaked panties with ease. he groaned into your mouth as he realised how wet you were, your only reply a slight tug on his curls.

light and teasing touches were only tolerable for so long, you could deal with his fingers dancing around your clothed folds while his lips stayed on yours ━ but when he pulled away your breaths became irregular, clinging to every ounce of patience you had.

you were about to whine when his hand pushed your panties to the side, slipping a digit inside of you without warning was enough to have you choking out a moan ━ hand flying to grip his bicep to ensure your legs wouldn’t give out on you.

lando was watching you as if you were gods gift to the earth, thumb settling on your clit naturally that within seconds of him getting to work your eyes were fluttering shut ━ head falling back against the wall.

“you’re soaked baby,” his words were barely audible; too in awe of you, but you still managed to catch them as you nodded ever so slightly.

“for you,” you breathed out ━ not that it needed clarifying, but the reassurance had the driver smirking proudly, even rewarding you as suddenly a second finger slipped inside of you.

for him. lando would never had thought that would ever be possible. if he wasn’t so focused on getting you off he’d be replaying those words in his mind again, and again.

suddenly it was becoming hard to keep quiet, strings of moans and whimpers escaping you in succession, causing lando’s pants to feel incredibly tight. but that was the last thing on his mind, holding you against the wall with the only goal of having you come undone in his grasp.

his name sounded heavenly as you moaned it, so much so lando thought no one else should ever speak it again ━ nothing would compare to that.

“look at me.” lando’s demand was so calm you almost missed it, eyes still fluttered shut as your thighs squeezed around his hand. despite hearing him you couldn’t act, control of your body slipping away ever so quickly with the way his thumb was circling your sensitive bud.

lando’s breathy laugh wasn’t enough to capture your attention either, his touch was all your mind could focus on. so it was when his free large hand trailed up your body to wrap around your neck that your eyes fluttered open.

his eyes were inquisitive, clearly attempting to gage a reaction to the action which had your lips parting despite having no pressure applied. however it was the way you clenched around his fingers that told him enough.

the slight squeeze of your neck was enough to draw a moan out of you, and lando could only hum in content. you were fucking perfect.

it was quickly becoming overwhelming, pleasure suddenly building so quickly ━ eyes pouring into his as you struggled to form words.

“close,” was all you managed out; lando’s nod was in sync with his curled fingers ━ your nails digging into his skin as he brushed the spot that had your legs almost giving out.

you were holding onto him for dear life, moans growing louder and whinier as your vision started to become starry despite having your eyes open.

“let go baby,” his words were enough to push you over the edge, releasing onto his fingers as you practically panted his name like it was a prayer.

lando had concluded a long time ago that he couldn’t fall for you more than he already had; but as he watched you come undone, he realised he’d been wrong. your beauty truly knew no ends ━ and he was only now more eager to watch your face contort in pleasure again and again.

admiration filled your own eyes as they opened once more to peer up at him, flushed cheeks and a sheepish smile spreading on your face as you attempted to catch your breath.

“you’re incredible,” lando couldn’t stop the praise from escaping him, and watching the way your smile grew had him feeling no regret either; no shame like he usually would when a compliment perhaps too sentimental slipped passed his guard.

however this time it was reciprocated, you could see the meaning behind it ━ not dismissing it as a friendly comment, instead it had your already flushed cheeks reddening further.

“you are.” you spoke like it was obvious, even letting out a small giggle ━ sounding somewhat out of breath but such thing was granted. your arms moved to wrap around his neck again, both to ensure he stayed close and because your only strength was in your arms.

your legs already felt like jelly.

he’d read the situation with ease, because suddenly his hands were hooked under your thighs ━ halting you up as your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso.

your skirt was bunched at your hips, ruined panties almost shameful. your hands spread out against his toned back, unable to help yourself from feeling as much of his flexed muscles as possible.

messy kisses were exchanged as he moved you through the hotel room, lips lazily moving against each other before your back was hitting his plush mattress.

the sight above you rendered you speechless, no shame in your eyes raking over his frame as he stood at the foot of the bed ━ you quickly felt overdressed.

your own hands found the hem of your shirt, peeling it off your body, no bra meaning your upper body was exposed to the brit.

you could visibly see him gulp, his eyes dancing over your half naked frame as he took a few deep breaths; tongue flicking over his bottom lip. the man even shook his head in disbelief, unable to help himself when you invitingly leant back on your elbows.

he was on top of you within moments, situating between your spread legs as his head found the exposed skin of your chest, open mouth kisses pressed to your neck, slowly making their way to your breasts.

“you’re fucking beautiful.” he’d practically grumbled, your fingers finding his curls once more you could only whimper as his teeth tugged on your skin momentarily.

“want to make you feel good,” you whispered, unable to ignore his hard on pressing into your hip ━ the feeling had you squirming, keen to feel more of him.

he’d shushed you however, not being derailed as his kisses moved to your stomach now, your head hitting the pillow as you tried to control your breathing ━ left to stare up at the ceiling momentarily.

“i feel amazing,” lando spoke matter of factly, his hands spreading over your thighs as he parted them to his liking ━ your eyes flickering down, not expecting to meet his blue ones.

he looked like he was ready to devour you, it made your core practically ache ━ offered no relief as your legs could only squeeze against his hold.

he was quick in removing your skirt, and your panties ━ having you bare for him before he was hooking your legs over his shoulders. but his urgency seemed to still there, kisses pressed to your inner thighs instead of your glistening cunt.

“lando,” you’d whined, using all your strength to ensure you could keep your eyes on him, a pretty sight that was rendering you impatient. “please,” the plea left you in desperation.

you could still feel his breath on your thighs, not where you needed him, and when you heard him chuckle lowly your eyes had to press shut to keep your composure.

“oh baby,” he dragged out; cooing so sweetly your eyes narrowed when they met his again. “needy little thing,” he commented; quirking an eyebrow your way and you couldn’t argue, only pout.

he wasn’t wrong, much to your surprise. you’d never found yourself in such position, needing and craving someone so badly. depending on someone else for pleasure was practically foreign.

“not gonna make you beg,” lando ended your torture, if you could even call it that, mouth connecting with your cunt and your jaw dropped as his tongue quickly found your clit.

you were already sensitive, back arching immediately as you moaned out softly ━ hands flying to find his curls again.

pure ecstasy was the only way to describe the feeling, his tongue working so perfectly that you were fighting to not press your thighs against his head ━ body moving with every action, his hand moving to press down on your hips and keep you in place.

your eyes caught his own for a mere few moments, seeing him look up at you however had your own eyes rolling back; too sensitive to stay cool with the onslaught of pleasure.

he was everywhere, consuming every one of your senses ━ tugging on his curls your only outlet as you moaned and shook.

you weren’t ever sure you’d be able to cum from head alone, but you were about to find out ━ pathetically close already, stomach tightening having barely recovered from your first orgasm.

you forced yourself to gaze down at him again, wanting to see his head between your thighs ━ watch the way his arms flexed as he held you in place with ease.

his tongue was flicking between your folds, then paying attention to your clit; never missing a beat, it flood over you suddenly.

you could no longer hear the sounds you were making as you came again, back arching off the bed once more ━ seeing stars, lando sure to catch the sight as you came undone for him again.

it was a blur the next few moments, not present as lando shifted your legs off of his shoulders and back onto his knees, but once you realised the sight in front of you it didn’t take long for you to push yourself up the bed so you were sitting up.

“you good?” lando’s voice was soft now, ensuring you were okay; not oblivious to your tired body. you nodded however, a lazy smile spreading on your lips in reassurance, hooded eyes taking him all in. you just wanted to feel all of him.

“perfect,” you breathed, leaning forward to connect your lips without another word. it was greedy, a few moments of no contact and you were drawn to him again. you just wanted more and more, and the way lando’s hands flied to your waist showed it was truly reciprocated.

you pushed him slightly to sit down, switching positions so he was resting against the headboard now ━ it didn’t take much force, he was letting you guide him, hands delicately roaming your fatigued frame.

climbing into his lap your hands made quick work of his pants, unzipping them and moving all material out of the way to finally free his hardened cock.

lando moaned into your mouth the moment your hand wrapped around his length, pumping a few times was the relief he’d been ignoring since you entered the hotel room.

he struggled to kiss back for a mere moment, causing your eyes to flutter open, lips curving upwards at the sight of his face contorted in pleasure.

fuck you could get used to that image.

“come on baby,” lando rasped out as his hands found a home on your hips ━ guiding them upwards ever so slightly. “fuck yourself on my cock yeah?” there was a slight smugness in his tone; the type that had you falling into submission once more, despite him vocalising your plans.

your arms moved to hold onto his shoulders, enough to help steady you as you guided your hips on top of his, lowering yourself down onto his cock.

the pair of you gasped in sync, your forehead resting against his as you took him all in at once, jaw going slack from the stretch.

you stilled, needing time to adjust to his size ━ and lando had no complaints, the feeling of you wrapped around him having him content.

“you feel fucking incredible,” the driver rasped, lips brushing against yours as he spoke; and you could only whimper at first, a few deep breaths escaping you.

“so big,” you mumbled; having to swallow intently before mustering the energy to begin moving ━ eyes pouring into his as you began to ride him.

the closeness and intimacy would usually scare you; heck, it would normally terrify him. yet somehow it felt right, as if this wasn’t the first time between the pair of you.

your nails dug into his skin once more as you shifted up and down, lando’s hands only on your skin to ensure he had a hold on you ━ letting you set the pace as he watched, jaw tense and eyes adoring.

“fuck lando,” you whined when he’d bottom out once more, hitting a spot so deep inside of you that your toes were curling ━ the sound of his own grunts and moans only adding to the pleasure.

“doing so good for me gorgeous,” his praise only encouraged you, words so delicate. you sped up as much as you could, not too fast but with more urgency than before; as much as your sore body would allow.

it wasn’t long before you started to tire, your moans grew whinier but you didn’t need to say anything ━ a choked moan escaping your throat when his hips suddenly thrusted up to meet your movements.

you hadn’t thought you could feel more full but you were wrong, and lando didn’t relent as he started fucking up into you.

you were like a doll in his hands, as he started to practically move you up and down his cock; his own hips continuing to thrust up you couldn’t keep up, eyes screwing shut as your mouth fell agape.

“fuck lando fuck,” you were practically chanting; a string of curses and his name; it all felt too good. fucking perfect, you couldn’t comprehend any of it.

“take it baby.” he grunted, and you nodded so quickly as if you’d ever disappoint him, fingers reaching to his back and nails dragging across the skin ━ his thrusts harsh, not slow but not too quick that you wouldn’t have time to feel every inch of him.

your head was thrown back, exposing your bare chest further to him ━ which lando made the most of for the time being, lips ducking down and attaching to one of your nipples for a few moments.

but as your sounds got louder he needed to be able to see your face clearly, hand moving up your back and tangling in your hair to force you to look at him.

“open your eyes princess,” he practically demanded, and at this point you’d do anything he said without question; eyes fluttering open to look at him.

his stamina was impressive, not surprising, still bouncing you on his cock as if it was nothing ━ but the way his breaths got shaky and his hooded eyes revealed he was feeling the pleasure like you were.

“who’s making you feel this good?” lando’s question escaped him without much thought; he just needed to hear you say it. wanted to revel in the fact he had you in such a state. your praise and reassurance held such a high value to him.

“you, lando, you,” you whined out in response ━ and you felt his hand move back to your hip, needing to use your own strength now to keep your head upright. “feels so good,” you told him ━ squeezing him as you did so.

he’d groaned at the feeling, almost having cum on the spot; thankfully he didn’t, because he needed to see you fall apart one more time.

“want to cum again yeah? that you want?” his mouth seemed to know no ends, the taunting only making your stomach grow tighter as you nodded to the best of your ability.

his breaths were heavy now, hands travelling to your ass as he used that as his grip of your body instead.

“wanna hear you say it,” lando grumbled ━ head ducking into the exposed skin of your neck, more kisses pressed onto your skin and the thought of marks being there from the amount of attention he’d paid to it was the last thing on either of your minds.

you were struggling now, too fucked out to process his words as quickly as he’d like ━ so much so a harsher thrust upwards had you aware you needed to answer him, yet you already forgot what he said.

“too fucked out to form words baby?” lando teased now that he knew he had your attention; and he chuckled once more when you shook your head quickly. “want to hear you say it.” he repeated, eyes piercing yours.

“wanna’ cum again,” your words were laced with desperation, needing to take a breath between sentences as his cock spread you open. “please let me cum,”

the british driver’s hum of satisfaction turned into a moan of pleasure at your plea, sounding and looking so pretty for him, it was clear you’d done enough as you felt his hand snake down between your bodies to your clit.

your vision went white practically immediately, almost yelping from how sensitive you were; thrown over the edge with little warm as you came on his dick ━ practically screaming his name as you did so.

lando came inside you merely a few seconds later, jaw slack from the sight of you and the way your walls squeezed him once more ━ only now was his thrusts sloppy as you both rode out your highs.

you were practically limp in his lap, forehead pressed against his shoulder as his own head rested against the headboard; heavy and irregular breaths filling the silence.

his hand moved to your head, fingers running through the strands of your hair comfortingly, the action causing you to hum in appreciation.

both of you were content with the silence, purely because neither of you knew exactly what to say. what to do. this was unexpected, to say the least.

you sat up straight after a couple minutes however, eyes meeting his ones; noticing the lack of intensity and confidence they held prior.

he was studying you as well, attempting to not spiral into a ‘what now.’

this meant a lot to him, he wouldn’t put that on you ━ that wouldn’t be fair. but you already had a good idea.

“i was wrong.” you finally managed to say what had been on the tip of your tongue, offering a small smile as his eyebrows raised in question.

he didn’t fully understand.

“about this. us. not making sense. being ridiculous.” you clarified, and the realisation washed over his features. you could feel him tense up slightly beneath you ━ shaking his head quickly.

“we don’t have to talk about it right now,” he assured in certainty. he didn’t want you to feel obligated to protect his feelings because you slept together.

which you appreciated, it was cute. he was thoughtful ━ which shouldn’t be a surprise.

“i’m not promising anything,” you clarified, dismissing him this time; you didn’t feel obligated at all. you weren’t saying you’d be his girlfriend and expected flowers when you woke up, but you needed him to know you no longer stood by what you said. you were also relieved to be able to articulate your thoughts. “but i was wrong.” you hummed.

a lazy smile spread on his features at that, acting like a catalyst for your own. a mumble of an okay and laughter was exchanged, before his lips were on yours again; a gentle kiss this time.

one you could certainly get used too.

━━

a/n: 615 days later and i’ve finally finished another fic. hope y’all r still there 😀😀

incredibly sorry for my inactivity and special shout out to everyone who has continued to support me despite the radio silence??? i love u

anyways i don’t love this but the fact i had the motivation to see it through was enough. hoping it’ll ease me back into writing and getting back up to standard, so apologises that it’s a little rusty 🫶🏼🫶🏼

what hasn’t changed is that it’s currently unedited and the ending is rushed hehe

as always feedback is always very much appreciated love u all mwahhh xoxo

#f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #x reader #f1 #lando norris angst #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #f1 angst #f1 one shot #lando norris #lando norris imagine

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mirohlayo · 2 months

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F1 DRIVERS AND WHEN

THEY GET JEALOUS

( include piastri, norris, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russel, verstappen & ricciardo )

warning : light jealousy, haven't proofread sorry

─ OSCAR PIASTRI

this boy is such a cutie patootie, he wouldn't get jealous that much. he's just so in love with you and he trusts you with all his heart that he will not be that much bothered by men who try to talk to you. but sure, when he knows the guy has bad intentions towards you, jealousy doesn't take too before completely drown him out. he'd never let anyone steal you away from him. he simply make leave the man before making sure everyone knows you're his lover.

─ LANDO NORRIS

he would certainly get jealous easily and for pretty much everything. this boy is so in love with you that he just wants to keep you all for himself. but his reactions and intentions are just cute. he will try to get your attention, distracting you from the person you are talking to. and when that doesn't work, he'll probably pout all day until you give him thousands of kisses on his face. of course he will never admit that he is jealous, he has too much ego and sass for that.

─ CHARLES LECLERC

you know exactly when he's jealous since he becomes a little more distant and quiet. he would savagely glare at the man who is trying to make you laugh. he can't help but stare at you, silently praying that this man would stop approaching you. but he won't be able to stop himself from coming to you, ridding you of this situation that was making him lose his mind. However, only one thing can take away his jealousy: a passionate kiss from you.

─ CARLOS SAINZ

he trusts you with his eyes closed, so it's rare for him to get all worked up when he's jealous. he is simply rarely jealous. but when this happens and he feels jealous, it's because he feels a little insecure. he keeps wondering if you plan to leave him for someone else. whether you still love him or not. and since you know him by heart, you always reassure him by telling him how much he doesn't need to feel this way since there is no man you want except him. but be careful, that doesn't mean he doesn't try to push away every person who tries to lust after you

─ LEWIS HAMILTON

like carlos, he is mature enough to know that nothing will ever happen between you and other people, so the word jealousy is not necessarily in his vocabulary. However, when he becomes clingy and needy, this word definitely becomes the most important to him. he will prevent you from interacting with another person because he simply wants to have your full attention just for himself. the fact that he's needy just makes him jealous of every person who talks to you, because he just wants to be the one you talk to.

─ GEORGE RUSSEL

he won't let you go all day after he sees you laughing with someone other than him. he will ask you lots of questions, like “I understand, you don't love me anymore”, “you prefer him/her to me”. but of course, it's just to laugh and tease you and make the situation more pleasant. even if he feels a little jealousy deep in his heart, this jealousy will never be as strong as the love he feels for you. and on the contrary, george will proudly admit that yes, of course he is jealous. very jealous even.

─ MAX VERSTAPPEN

he tries to show in every possible way that you are together. that you are his, and he is yours. that you form the most beautiful couple in this world. so of course there is very little chance that you will be approached by someone else. since after all, no one wants to confront a max who is jealous. he absolutely does not stop himself from sending away those who try to lust after you, a big mocking smile on his lips. but he will also apologize to you later, feeling sorry for overreacting so much.

─ DANIEL RICCIARDO

this boy would completely turn the situation around. At first, you tease him to make him jealous, laughing with one of your friends. and it works. you can clearly see the jealousy in the way he looks at you and the firm expression he displays. but after reflection, he will turn the situation around in order to tease you in turn. he notices that you don't like the way he laughs with this girl. but at the end of the day, you can't help but laugh in each other's arms. because you know that after all, you're only doing this to tease yourselves.

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #george russel x reader #max verstappen x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #f1 fluff #f1 x you

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eddiesxangel · 5 months

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Show Me | Older!Eddie x F!Virgin Reader

Anonymous asked: I loved your post about Eddie x virgin!reader so much💞Do you think you could write older!Eddie x virgin reader?

Anonymous asked: Inexperienced!reader giving Eddie a handjob and a blowjob for the first time?

Cw: ten-year age gap, sex toys, female masturbation, the reader is kinda a perv (oops), Eddie is also kinda a perv (oops), reader first time giving oral, reader first time having sex, pet names.

CW: 7.1k It's long again, I'm sorry! idk how to do short

Moving trucks have been parked in your neighbour's driveway for about two days. You had always liked the Kaminskys, but they were older and now moving to a retirement community. This is the second day of moving trucks, and the new owners are moving in today. You have yet to receive much information from the realtor regarding the new neighbours, but you hope they'll be pleasant. You had already baked something to welcome them to the neighbourhood, in hopes that it could be a younger family or couple. Perhaps someone closer to your age?

You moved to this town around three years back when you received your first job offer after completing your college degree. You had saved up enough money to buy a one-bedroom house for a very affordable price. Although it required some repairs, you were happy with it because it allowed you to decorate it according to your liking. You loved the neighbourhood even if you were the only twenty-five-year-old on the block.

As you looked out from behind your front rooms curtains, you could see the movers unloading a big moving truck. There was one person among them who really caught your attention. You had never seen him before. It was a small town and you lived in a quiet suburb by the water in the south of Michigan. Everyone knew everyone, and you hadn’t seen this man before.

He appeared to be in his mind to late 30s and had a muscular build. His brown wavy hair was tied back in a low bun that connected with the five o clock shadow in his face. He was wearing a tight black ribbed tank top that showcased the tattoos covering both his arms and hands. He was hot... Way too hot not to have not ever been seen or talked about in your small lakefront town. Upon further observation, it became apparent that he was not wearing the attire of a mover.

Oh my god. He must be the new neighbour.

“Please be single, please be single, please be single,” you chanted as you hastily went to your closet in search of an outfit that looked cute so that you could introduce yourself.

You took your time getting ready; he obviously needed time to unload, and you didn’t want to overwhelm him…. And whoever else might be moving in.

God, you hoped he didn’t have a wife or whatever.

You shook your head to get rid of your rambling internal thoughts. You took a deep breath and told yourself to chill the fuck out. You could do this. You’ll go over in your sweet little sundress, introduce yourself, and offer him the chocolate cake you baked…

You weren't as excited as you were last night while baking it, now you were just nervous. You imagined a sweet family moving in with a newborn - a couple your age with whom you could become really close friends. But now, you are faced with a hot and sexy bad boy neighbour who may or may not have a wife and kids. Maybe he wasn’t into women at all?! That would suck. This situation is making you feel extremely anxious and overwhelmed due to your lack of interactions with the opposite sex.

To say you haven’t had a lot of experience was an understatement. You went through high school without a boyfriend. You went through college without a boyfriend. You weren’t into drunken hookups with random strangers for your first sexual experience. You went on many first dates, but nothing ever came of those many first dates. So you waited. And waited.

You thought that maybe you would meet somebody through work and then it would happen, but you’ve been so caught up with working and renovating your house your social life has taken a step back.

Of course, you wanted to find someone. To finally be with someone in a sexual way. To give yourself wholly to someone. Nothing ever went past kissing and or being felt up. But that was the extent of your sexual experience with another person.

Your sexual experience with yourself, on the other hand, was pretty standard. You've got your toys to get by. The first time you gave yourself a real orgasm from the vibrator you bought, it changed your world. Slowly, you worked your way up to toys you could insert once you got a little braver. So technically, yes, you hadn't slept with another person, but now you were more than ready to explore and get out there. You wanted that connection with someone.

So, about half an hour after the moving truck left, you worked up the courage to walk over and knock on the front door. You gave yourself a once-over before leaving. You wore a white sundress with tiny red cherries that fell mid-thigh, your hair was pulled back with a matching red hairband, and you had a fresh, subtle makeup look.

With a deep breath, you held that cake with all your might to ensure you didn't drop it and you simply knocked on the door.

"Just a second," You heard a deep voice call out. A few long seconds later, the door opens, and you're face to face with a wet, shirtless man in just a towel. As you suspected, it was the man you saw unloading the boxes.Fucking hell, He was attractive, with a toned body covered in tattoos. Your gaze drifted to his towel hanging low on his hips. -"Oh shit, sorry, let me just uh- I'll be right back," He sputtered as he realized he was basically naked in front of a young woman, most likely his neighbour.

"Sorry, I can come back later!" to try to fight off the blood rushing to your face.

"No- no, just, uh-hang on!' You hear him yell from inside the house. He came back out wearing black sweatpants which he had cut himself to make into shorts and a plain black tee shirt.

"Hi." He smiles as he walks back onto the front porch where you stood.

"Hi, I'm sorry. I should have waited a little longer to come introduce myself." You laugh uncomfortably.

"Nah, it's okay; not every day I'm greeted by a pretty girl with a cake." He smirks.

"What? Oh yea, I uh- just wanted to welcome you and uh your...wife?"

He shakes his head no.

"Your partner?"

Another no.

"Kid?" you try one last time. And he smiles with a chuckle.

"Anyway, I baked a cake just to say welcome." You shoved the plate into his chest, almost smushing it into his shirt.

"Thank you, that's very kind."

"You're welcome. So, um, I guess I'll get going; leave you to it." You turn to walk down the steps.

"Wait! What's your name?" you wince. You're so nervous you didn't even introduce yourself.

"I'm sorry." You giggled uncomfortably.

"I'm Eddie Munson," he smiled. His smile was infectious; you smiled back and gave him your name.

"Pretty name for a pretty girl."

"Um- thanks." You shy into yourself.

"So you said you live next door?"

"Yeah, uh, I'm just over at forty-four." You motion over your shoulder to your house.

"You live there with your folks?" He cocks his head.

"No, Mr. Munson. It's all mine, mine alone." You giggle.

"You don't look old enough," he squints suspiciously.

"I would like to have you know I am twenty-five." You say proudly.

"Oh well, pardon me." He smiled. This made Eddie feel much better about being so attracted to you. God forbid you were still living at home with your parents. He would feel like a total creep.

"Anyways, I uh should get going," you point over your shoulder.

"Oh, ok, well, um, once I'm done setting up, please stop by whenever. I could use a familiar face around... being new to town and all."

"Sure thing, it was nice meeting you. Mr. Munson." you smile.

"Please call me Eddie!" He called as you walked back over to your house,

"Enjoy the cake!" You give a small wave.

"Oh, I will." Before you turn back, you watch as he takes a finger, dips it in the icing, and puts it in his mouth without breaking eye contact... you hadn't witnessed anything so sensual. You almost trip over your sandals as you scurry back into your house.

All of your interactions with Eddie over the next week were flirtatious. He managed to make your heart beat faster than any man had before.

After a week and a half, Eddie finally organized the house. His furniture was set up, and most of the moving boxes had been emptied. He would see you when you came home from work in the evenings as he sat on his porch with a cigarette.

"Hey, Eddie," You would blush,

"Hey, sweetheart" He would smile back without fail.

If anyone else were to call you that, you'd want to clock them; however, coming out of Eddie's mouth? Somehow, it made you swoon.

"Hey, um, you don't have to, but would you want to join me for dinner? Tonight? I am sure you're exhausted from unpacking, and I'm a pretty good cook... unless you hated my cake so feel free to say no.-" You rambled on.

"I'd love to join you for dinner. That's very sweet of you to offer." This was so new for Eddie. Neighbours being neighbourly. He was always the outcast in his town growing up. Now, at thirty-five, he is finally saved up enough to get out of town, start fresh, and open his own autobody shop. Have an actual house of his own, not that he wasn't grateful for his uncle and the trailer park.

Here, he could be anyone he wanted to be. He met some of the townspeople, and they seemed nice enough when he told them he would be taking over for Mr. Sanders's mechanic shop.

"Okay, great! I'm just going to get changed, I'll leave the door open; feel free to come in and make yourself at home whenever you're ready." You motioned to him and his cigarette."

"Thanks, Sunshine." He smiled that smile you couldn't overcome, and you rushed inside to find a n outfit that didn’t scream ‘I work for corporate America.’

You made your way up to your loft, which doubled as your bedroom that overlooked the living area and kitchen. You were in the middle of stripping when you heard the front door open; only then did you realize that when you told him to make himself at home, you had forgotten the minor detail that he would be able to see you changing. You scurried into your walk-in closet with a squeak so he wouldn't have dinner and a show.

"Sunshine?" He asked, walking into your home.

"I'll be down in a minute!" You yell as you scramble to find your jean shorts.

"Take your time." He walks around your home, observing your picture gallery.

"Help yourself to a beer or whatever you want in the fridge."

"Thanks."

As you walk back down your stairs, you see Eddie sitting on your couch, beer in hand. Man-spread with an arm around the top of the sofa. You wished you could be by his side, arm around you instead.

"Good, you made yourself at home."

"Well, Sweets, I am a good listener." He tilted his head back, taking a swig from the bottle. You watched his Adam's apple bob in his long throat, and you thought about what it would feel like to kiss it.

"Any dietary restrictions?" You ask, shaking yourself from your dirty thoughts.

"Nah..." He shakes his head. "So, how did you swing a place like this at your age?"

It felt like a dig; maybe he just saw you as a kid... you would change his mind on that.

"Um, well, I got it on foreclosure; you should have seen it; it was a mess, and everyone wanted to tear it down, but I had a vision. It took a few years, but it's finally finished. I had some help from my grandmother's inheritance, but it wasn't much. So I worked my ass off, and here we are" you spoke as you got together the pots and ingredients.

"Looks like you're doing well for yourself" He smiled as he watched you bend over, unintentionally showing off your cute plump ass.

"Yeah, I guess. So what do you do?" you turn and catch him staring at your behind.

"Well, I just bought the auto shop off Mr. Sander's, so if you're ever in any car trouble, I'm your guy." He smiles.

"Good to know; I know nothing when it comes to my Ruby."

"Ruby?"

"Yeah, my car, she's red, so I named her Ruby."

"That's cute; it suits you."

You don't say much after you start cooking; you are in the zone, ensuring everything is perfect.

"So, what's a girl like you do around here for fun?"

"A girl like me?"

"Yeah, young, beautiful." He takes a bite like what he said was obvious.

"Umm well... work mostly. We have block parties, it is all families around here; my friends all live in the city." You take a sip of beer to settle your nerves.

"This is really good." He motions to the plate of food in front of him.

"You know what? We are having our town's Fourth of July party on Saturday. Everyone goes, you should come! I can show you around more, introduce you to more people, and you can spread the word about your new business opening up next week."

"Yeah, I'd really like that."

After Eddie had thanked you for the meal, he stayed a few more hours; you enjoyed his company. He respectfully kissed you on the cheek goodnight, and you made your way straight up to your room with your toys because you couldn't stand it any longer.

Eddie made you feel like your body was on fire. When he would lightly graze his fingertips along your bare arm or when he would compliment you. His voice alone made your lower tummy tingle.

You pulled out your trusty rabbit that never failed you. You felt dirty, but Eddie had you so worked up you needed relief.

As you lay on your bed, you strip yourself down to nothing. You think about how Eddie’s big, strong hands would tease your body. Working yourself up in your mind. You got wetter by the second.

You imagined how his voice would sound as you imagined the filthy words that would come out of that perfectly plump mouth. That mouth you wanted all over your body.

You imagined, pictured, and played a movie of Eddie and you in your head until you got so worked up that you couldn’t take it anymore. Your clit was screaming at you to be touched. You turned on the toy, it came to life, and your body quivered with anticipation. Your body sprang to life as you slowly worked the toy around your wet hole and then plunged in the dildo. You went deeper and deeper until the little vibrator at the top of the toy hit your clit.

Your body arched up as you felt the waves of pleasure wash through your veins. You pumped the toy in and out of your wet pussy, thinking about your older neighbour. How hot he looked in nothing but that towel when you first met. How your pussy clenched at the sight of his happy trail. How his muscles formed a V travelling right to where you wanted most. You could see his bulge under the white fluffy bath towel wrapped around his waist. You thought about how good his flesh would feel against yours as he pumped his cock inside of you like how you were with your toy.

“Oh, Eddie!” You moaned, forgetting your window was open for the summer breeze you loved to feel in the night.

Your free hand travels to your breast; you tweak your sensitive nipple and moan out again. Your white transparent curtains fluttered with the wind, but you were too wrapped up in your fantasy to notice.

When Eddie got home he went straight into his new bedroom and opened his window because the evening breeze was blowing. He then got ready for bed and was reading when he heard his name. His head shot up, thinking he was hearing things. Then, he listened to another sultry moan. He took off his reading glasses and got up to investigate. His eyes shot wide open as he saw your silhouette through your curtains. He saw your the outline of your body, how your hand worked where he wanted to put his cock the most.

It was wrong, it was so wrong, but now Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off of the image in front of him. He tried walking away, and he almost did, but when he heard your sweet voice moan his name again, his feet were planted on the ground. This only confirmed that you were as attracted to him as he was to you. He had thought so tonight at dinner but now he would dare to go for it. Ask you out for real.

Your body felt like it was on fire the way the toy vibrated throughout your body. The pressure kept building and building until you were on the brink. Your body seized as your pussy clamped down on the dildo inside of you. Your eyes rolled back into your head as the waves of pleasure washed over your entirety. You caught your breath and knew that Eddie was the one you wanted to be with. He was the one; if he could make you feel this good in your fantasies, you can only imagine how it would be for real.

Eddie was nervous, even though you had confirmed, unintentionally, that you were attracted to him; it had been a while since he asked out about a girl he liked, especially when he was about to ask out one who was ten years younger.

Saturday couldn't come soon enough. You had asked Eddie as a friend, but Eddie would treat it as a date, and he would make sure you knew it was a date. You were excited to spend time with Eddie again after your dinner. It had only been four days, but the anticipation was creeping in. You were so surprised when he showed up at your door with flowers.

"Eddie, you didn't have to do this, but thank you!" you smiled as you sniffed the daisies.

"Of course I did; what kind of date would I be if I showed up empty-handed?" He smirked as he stepped into your house as you went to get a vase for your flowers.

“A date, huh?” You smirked over your shoulder.

“Yes. A date”

“Okay,” you smile as you take his hand in yours and lock up your house.

Eddie was smitten; he had you on his arm, and he felt like the king of the world. You were also smitten. Finally, you were on a date with someone who you were very interested in.

Eddie was funny and charming, and you found out he was really nerdy, but it was only much more endearing. You learned how he played guitar and was in a high school garage band that landed a few gigs at the local bar. The more you got to know him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off you as the night went on, and you enjoyed it. When he wasn't holding your hand, he was holding your waist; if he wasn't holding your waist, his arm was draped over your shoulder.

When the fireworks started, you gazed up at the sky together, wrapped up in one another warmth as the cool breeze of the lake came through. Halfway through the show, he went to kiss the top of your head but you had moved to look up at him, and you caught his lips with yours. Just like the fireworks in the sky, there were fireworks between the both of you. When you both pulled back, you could see in his eyes that he felt it, too.

You finished off the night hand in hand as he walked you home. He kissed you good night like a perfect gentleman, and you bid one another a goodnight.

You were so giddy and excited about Eddie. The more you went out, the more time you wanted to spend with him. You were finishing your third official date when you asked him to join you inside your place for a nightcap.

Things moved quickly once you settled inside. Your drinks were hardly touched. Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off you.m as you made out like a couple of horny teenagers in the couch.

Your mind was racing. Why hadn’t you told him you’re a virgin? You invited him in. He’s probably expecting sex… oh god, what if he’s turned off by the fact that you’re not experienced?

“We can slow down if you want.” he pulled away; he had sensed something was off. You became stiff and seemed like you weren't into the makeout anymore.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a bit nervous… I’m -uh just out of practice…” you shied.

“That’s okay we can take it slow.” He stroked your cheek.

“Are you sure?” You twiddled with his fingers that are resting on your thigh.

“Of course. We can go at your speed.”

“I need to tell you something.” You looked down at the floor. He nodded his head but then spoke because you weren’t looking at him.

“I’ve never… I uh. Shit. I’ve never been with anyone before.”

“What?” Eddie was dumbfounded. How? There was no way he heard you correctly.

“I’m a virgin.” You pull away, but Eddie reaches for you.

“oh wow. I wasn't expecting that... uh- but that’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” he comforts you.

“But I do want to,” you rush out. “It’s not like I’m waiting for marriage; it just hasn’t happened…”

“We will go at your pace” Eddie smiled.

“Thank you”

You shift closer to him, wanting to kiss him again, especially after being so cool with everything.

You leaned in to kiss him again, but he was hesitant.

“You sure, sunshine?”

“Yea” you sigh into his mouth.

Eddie grabs the back of your head so he can pull you in closer.

Your hand rested on his knee. As you continued to kiss him your hand bravely traveled up his thigh.

“Woah, hold on, sunshine.” He rested his hand on yours to stop moving.

Oh my gosh, this is it. He had come to his senses. He’s rejecting you.

"You sure you want to go there? Because if we keep going, I will want to do things to you, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable if you're not ready."

"I promise. I've waited so long for the right guy, and I'm ready, trust me." If he only knew about your little collection of toys upstairs.

"We don't have to go all the way tonight okay?"

"Yeah, okay." You nodded your head with anticipation. Okay, this was good. He accepted you, and he still wanted to fool around.

You returned to making out on your couch, and the heavy petting ensued. This time, Eddie didn't stop your advances as your hand travelled up his thigh to the crease of his leg and up his crotch. Your hand felt around his bulge through his jeans. There was no denying that he was turned on. The way his cock strained against the thick black fabric should have been illegal. It must have been uncomfortable for him. You just had to let it spring free.

You shifted your weight forward to get closer to him. To feel him. His thighs were thick and defined. You could also feel how hard they were. Your mind wandered to how they would feel to sit on.

Before you knew it, your body was moving before your brain could catch up. One leg draped over his, and you were mounted on Eddie's leg. His deliciously thick leg. You just did what felt right; as you sat down on Eddie, the pressure situated onto your pussy felt so delicious. Your hips started rocking back and forth, building up a rhythm.

You heard and felt Eddie moan in your mouth, and this only enticed you on to keep going, your body driven by pleasure.

"That feel good, baby?" He cooed in your ear before he started kissing down your neck.

"Mmmmhmmm." You nodded frantically, eyes shut, not daring to look at him.

"Good girl, keep going." You felt his big hands grip the top of your ass as he helped you rock your hips against his jeans. The pressure in your lower stomach was building and building; you could feel your orgasm as close.

“Fuck that’s it, use me”

Fuck, you haven't gotten off by dry-humping something in years. Not since you found your first vibrator.

"You close, baby girl?" He whispered against your lips as you kept kissing him. A muffled yes was said, and before you could continue to speak, waves of pleasure washed over your whole body. It stared from your clit and radiated up like it travelled through your bloodstream straight to your head.

Your movements slowed, and you managed to catch your breath; Eddie was still hard as a rock under his jeans, and there was no way you weren't going to help out with that.

You mimicked the way Eddie kissed your neck on Eddie. Your tongue moved the way he moved on your neck. Your hands worked in tandem with your mouth. Your fingers worked to open his jeans as you kept kissing on sucking on Eddie's long tattooed neck.

"You don't have to, Sugar," he panted, but you could hear in his tone that he was excited. He wanted this as much as you did... maybe even more.

"But I want to, Eddie." You batted your eyelashes, and you pulled away to let him see your playful pout.

You've watched enough porn and heard enough of your friend's stories to know what you're doing. Sure, the first and only time you saw a dick in real life was in your third year at uni when you tried to go down on the guy you were out with but then got scared, and he walked you home... but you got this! You're an adult woman who knows what she wants, and what she wants is right at her fingertips.

Your little pep talk in your head must have been evident on your face because Eddie started speaking again.

"You done this before?" He asks gently, not judgingly. You shake your head slightly in return.

"You want me to guide you?"

You nodded your head yes. You wanted to be good and do it right.

"Kay," He smiled.

Eddie told you how to work your hands slowly, teasingly at first, not too much but not too little. And no sudden sharp yanking movements at first... You listened, and when you were ready, you moved his boxers down, and his cock was released. It was so big, so much bigger than you thought it would be. The one you saw was a least half the size of Eddie's.

"Oh my god," You gasped.

"It's okay, sugar; he won't bite." Eddie kissed you to make you feel more comfortable. Your hand travelled back to his cock so you could grip it in your hand, not too hard, but not too gently like Eddie had said. The tip produced a bead of precum that was already leaking out, which was a good sign. Your fingers brushed over the head, and Eddie sucked in a breath.

"Did I hurt you?" you dropped his cock from your release.

"No, quite the opposite, baby."

"Oh," you giggled. You picked up where you left off, stroking his cock in your grip, teasing it and feeling it. You were surprised by how velvety the skin felt.

As you continued to make up with Eddie, cock in hand. You suddenly felt braver, and the need to have him in your mouth grew stronger. You slinked your way off the couch so you were sat in front of him on your knees, eyes and mouth level with his behemoth that he calls his cock.

“You sure, little one?" He asked, and you nodded your head with a smile. You moved before your surge of confidence broke.

You sat up a little more and moved his cock towards you, and tentatively licked the tip. You continued your kitten licks a few more times before enveloping his tip in your warm, wet mouth. You peered up at Eddie through your long lashes; he looked like he was enjoying himself, so you must have been doing something right? You swirled your tongue along the tip before dipping you're head down lower to take more of him. Eddie let out a moan, and this made you smile. Yes, you were doing something right. So you continued, lower and lower.

You'd be lying if you didn't say you've tested your gag reflex on one of the dildos you own; where is the fun in that? But now that it was a real mans cock in your mouth, you understood the hype about giving head. You genuinely liked it so far, but that's probably due to Eddie and how comfortable he makes you feel.

"You sure you've never done this before?" He managed to get out.

"uhhhhuuhhhhhh" You moned against his cock and that only jerked Eddie's hip up into you.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, that just felt really good, baby" He stroked your head before gripping the back of your hair like he was resisting to push you further down.

"Fuck baby, you're way too good at this to be a virgin."

"You calling me a Liar, Mr. Munson?" You popped off his cock and started jerking him off with your hand again.

"No, no, baby, shit, I mean, ohhh, fuck you're very good for this being your first time."

"Thank you" You put the tip back in your mouth as you sucked on it, but your hands continued to work the shaft.

Eddie didn't last much longer; he told you to take your mouth off but continue with your hands, not wanting to ruin his chance of being with you again if you tasted cum for the first time and you were disgusted. So you listened, wanting to please him; you watched as the white liquid spurted from his shaft and ran down your hands. It was warm and all you could picture was what it would look like leaking out of your pussy.

"Let me get you a towel" You got up when his cock finally stopped spazming.

You walked back over with a warm wet dishtowel, but not before you took his softening cock in your mouth to wipe up the access.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie wasn't expecting that. It was like he had awoken something inside you.

"I wanted to know what you tasted like," you surged before you handed him the towel.

"You, little minx, are going to be the death of me."

Eddie and you had been going out for two months since he moved in, and it had been a week since you gave Eddie your first blow job. It's been on your mind for the majority of the week. So when he asked you out again on a fourth date, you were very excited to see how that one would end. What more would the two of you explore?

Eddie cooked for you; he had a nice romantic dinner in his kitchen. His place was finally fully unpacked, and he gave you a grand official tour of his house afterward.

"You going to show me your bedroom?" You teased.

"You would love that, wouldn't you?" He teased back.

You headed up to his room. You walk inside, and it's pretty spacious; he has a small window off to the side that looks into your house. You stroll around the beige-carpeted floors to see if your suspicions are correct. He does, in fact, have a direct view of your bedroom.

"Ever spy on me, Mr. Munson?"

"mmmmm once or twice." He chuckles as his strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer to his body.

"Really?" You got a bit nervous; what had he seen?

"Well, a man can't help his curiosity when he hears a sweet voice moaning his name in the middle of the night."

This makes you gasp. He had to be joking! But then again, your windows are close together, and you love leaving them open...

"Don't worry, sweetheart." He turned you to face him, but you buried yourself into his chest, too embarrassed to look at him. "It's flattering.”

"Eddie" you moaned into his chest."

"I'm serious, knowing you want an old guy like me?"

"You're not even that old," you mumbled.

"Please look at me, Sunshine." He tilted your head up so he could gaze into your eyes. You tried to fight it, but you ultimately gave in.

"I'm embarrassed," You pout.

"Don't be; you don't even need to be embarrassed about your fantasies with me. Understood?"

"Okay." You shy away meekly.

“You want to tell me your fantasies? What you were thinking about when you touched yourself all alone in that bed of yours?”

“I-i-want…“

“It’s okay. I know you’re nervous, sweetheart. You can tell me.”

You paused, took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

“I want to be taken care of,” you whispered.

“And”

“I want you to be the one to do it…”

"We can definitely arrange that," he said before taking your lips. His tongue parted your lips, making its way into your mouth. He was an excellent kisser. You were getting wet just by his kisses alone.

Eddie backs you up and leads you toward the king-size bed. Your knees give out when they hit the soft mattress, and you fall back, dragging Eddie down with you.

"You gonna let me take care of you, baby?"

"Please?"

"That's my girl." He smiled into the kiss before getting up so you could shimmy back onto the bed so you could rest on the pillows.

Eddie's mouth found yours again as his hands travelled up your body, feeling every inch of your skin. You felt like your body was on fire; the heat radiating between the two of you was evident.

"Can I take this off?" He played with the hem of your sundress.

"You can do whatever you want"

"That's a big promise, little one, gotta be careful with making promises like that." he cocks his head.

"I just want you." You go to take off your dress, but Eddie stops you so he can do it himself. You came prepared; you wore the nicest bra and panty set you owned. A pink lace and satin set. It made your boobs look out of this world the way the fabric cupped you just right. Accentuating every curve.

"All this f'me?"

You didn't answer. You just needed to kiss him again; your bodies melded together as he pressed you further into the mattress. His hands cupped your breasts, moulding and kneading them, and your sensitive nipples began to perk up at his rough touch.

"You're perfect," Eddie sighed as his mouth detached from yours and moved down to your neck. Your body tingled as his soft lips explored the exposed skin.

"Eddie," you moaned out in pleasure. Your hips started to grind up onto Eddie's calf, and he knew he had you right where he wanted.

His hands moved lower, cupping your lace covered heat. His fingers felt so good above the lace that separated the two of you; you couldn't wait to see what they felt like skin to skin.

"You mind if I?"

"Yes!" you said, a little too excited. But Eddie didn't mind. He thought it was so cute the way you were eager to let him explore your body.

"You know how often I've pictured you on this bed?" You shake your head, not biting your lip.

"Oh well, I would picture you like this... no, wait. There would be much less clothing." He wraps his arms around his body to take off his shirt, and he throws it across the room; next to go were his pants. You giggled at his antics. "Much better."

You could feel his cock press against your stomach as he pounced back down onto you. He continued where he had left off, his hand exploring your clothed cunt again, circling your clit above your panties, making you let out a sweet moan. He moved his hands further up until he made his way underneath your panties.

Your hips automatically moved as Eddie's hands explored your wet folds. His free hand pressed your hip, silently telling you not to move, that he will do this for you. You no longer had to be the only one to make yourself feel good. He was here to take care of you.

His thick finger slipped past your folds and up into your tight cunt.

"Oh!" You called out as his fingers broke past the barrier. They were much bigger than you're used to; your hands could never do the same as he was doing now.

"You're ok, baby," he cooed. He worked his hands inside of you, hitting a spot you'd never located before. That made your mind go numb and all fuzzy.

Eddie pulled out of you, and you whimpered in protest but quickly understood he was only taking off your panties for you. You lifted your legs, you helped him out, and he kissed down your leg until he reached your centre.

"May I?" He asked.

"Yes." You sigh.

Eddie waisted not a moment longer. His lips attached themselves to your lower ones. You’d never felt anything like it. The way his soft mouth moved around your clit, kissing and sucking on your swollen bud. You thought I couldn’t get any better than this. Until his tongue made its way onto your body and you cried out in pleasure. Too consumed by Eddie to be embarrassed by how loud you were being.

“Eddie! Oh god, yes, fuck right there!”

“You taste so sweet, even better than I imaged.” Eddie hummed into your cunt mimicking the vibrations your so use to with your vibrating toys. You body was quivering underneath him within minutes. He was way too good at this.

“Please, I’m coming, oh god I’m cuming!” You try to catch your breath with every world but it wa s no use. Eddie didn’t let up until your body was spent.

You watched Eddie sit up, your liquids covering his chin. He smiled as he spoke.

“We are only just getting started baby”

Another whimper left your throat as he pulled down his boxers to reveal his hard cock. It bobbed as it was released from its confines and you wanted nothing more than to feel it in your mouth again.

“I know what you’re thinking, baby. But no, not tonight. I need to feel you.” He went to the nightstand and opened the drawer. You watched as he pulled out the condom from its foil wrappings. Your legs clenched in anticipation.

"I'm going to take real good care of you, Sunshine." he rolled it into himself before crawling back over your body.

"Okay, Eddie. I trust you."

Eddie's heart fluttered as you spoke. He was so honoured that you chose him to be your first. He would make you see what you had missed this whole time.

"You ready?" He asked.

"Yes, I think so." You nod.

Eddie hovered over you as he took your lips into his once more. You could taste yourself in his mouth and he slowly worked the tip along your slit collecting your natural lube so he could slip himself easily inside.

"Oh my god!' Eddie was thick, so much thicker than you were used to with your silicone boyfriend you had hidden in the drawer. Thank god you were at least used to that because you didn't know how you would have handled this otherwise.

"You're doing so well for me, Sunshine." he praised as his cock dove deeper into you. Your tight cunt felt like paradise.

You told Eddie he could start moving once you were comfortable and adjusted to his size.

You saw starts as his cock plunged in and out of you; it felt so fucking good. You couldn't keep in your pleasure. Moan after moan was music to Eddie's ears. Why had you waited this long to feel something so good?

"So good, fuck, you're so fucking tight." His strokes never let up. He kept the same tempo as his hips snapped into you. Your mouths hardly disconnect unless you need to come up for air. His hands explored under your bra as he pulled a cup down to free your nipple. He moved from your mouth down to take your breast into his mouth, curling your peaked bud just like he did your clit minutes before.

Your body was lit up again; the heat between you both was one thousand degrees. Eddie, was your everything at this moment. You didn't, nor couldn't think of anything but the pleasure he was feeding you.

"More, more, more," You chant as Eddie's cock pounds into you, filling you more than you had ever felt before.

Eddie listened and moved his hands to your clit. Sparking an electrical bolt through your entire body. Your already sensitive clit was pulsing with desire as Eddie continued to pleasure you. With each stroke of his cock and hand, your body couldn't take it anymore, and you began to convulse under him.

"Shit fuck, you're squeezing me so tight," Eddie spoke before he realized that he was making you cum undone beneath him.

"Oh, yes! Eddie!"

"That's it, such a good girl, taking me so well. God your pussy is made for me." he spoke as he still used your body for his own pleasure. He didn't take much after your cunt latched down on him like a vice that he was coming right after you. A loud grunt left his lips as he felt a wave of please come over his body. His sensitive cock spurted its hot while cum into the condom that was still inside you.

"Wow," Was all you managed to say. Your brain was mush, but it was the best way possible.

"Yeah, wow," Eddie chuckled as he rolled off of you, out of breath but feeling blissful nonetheless.

"Is it always like that?" You mindlessly asked.

"With me, baby girl? Yeah." He chuckled.

"Wow," You repeated. Your brain is still not fully back down to earth.

"You wanna be my girl Sunshine?"

This snapped you back into reality.

"What? Really?" You turn your head to look at him.

"Yeah, baby girl," He cupped your face, waiting for your answer.

"Yes, Eddie, I'll be your girl"

Part 2

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satorhime · 1 year

Text

front row seat + gojo satoru ── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : minors do not interact, f!reader, explicit smut, pussy drunk!gojo, hentai tropes ( internal view / satoru uses his six eyes ), messy sex, squirting, mating press. w.c ˓˓ 2k ˓˓

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : sometimes you forget that your boyfriend sees everything.

“h-honey, i ever tell you how pretty this pussy is?”

he has, multiple times, because satoru is obsessed with watching you while he fucks you.

in a way, you don’t blame him. the two of you are beautiful together and on the days when your boyfriend is merciful enough not to fuck you flat into his mattress, you love lifting your gooey head up to watch the pretty bounce of your tits, the squishy sink of satoru’s cock disappearing into your pussy and how the taut muscles in his abdomen twitches, tensing up whenever you suck him in with a widowmaking squeeze,

but tonight satoru is … tonight, something has him frenzied.

his quicksilver blue eyes refuse to close down, and no matter how good he feels inside you, he refuses to throw his head back in ecstasy. it’s like he’s watching the performance of the century, one such cinematic masterpiece that he can’t afford to miss and you’re the pretty young starlet acting centerstage.

his gaze trails all over every inch of your plush body, from the way he leaves his fingerprints in the soft dimples of your hips, the tousel of your hair as you thrash against the pillows underneath him, and now his new personal favorite— a sight only his six eyes are allowed to see.

a sweet treat he’s never thought to indulge in before now, the fact that if he drags his gaze down to your body and let the six eyes focus a little further, past your soft belly until it becomes a translucent screen to him, he can see everything. it feels perverse, being able to watch the raw way he fucks into you but it’s so intoxicating, maddening and white hot, how heavenly you look spread out underneath him with your cunt laid bare to his eyes, he wouldn’t be able to resist it if he tried–

so he watches, milky lashes fanning out over petal-pink cheeks as his lidded eyes focus below your hips, right between the jiggle of your thighs. “g-god,” he moans out through gritted teeth, lilting baritone low and shaky. he’s sitting back on his heels, chin tucked to his chest and lip bitten raw. sweat drips from his brows onto your belly in rivulets and he’s attempting to rally the last bit of self-control he has in order not to absolutely wreck you as he watches himself fuck his cock deep into your weeping pussy. “wish you could see how easy this little lady’s opening up f’me, angel.”

“nnngh, i can’t see-!” you squeal, and you don’t know if it’s because of the sticky tears blurring your big doe eyes or because it’s one of those nights where he fucks you flat, where the weight of his cock leaves you writhing and unable to move properly. where the only thing you can do is toss your head back against the pillows and take what he gives.

how such an innocent night ended up like this so suddenly, you don’t know. your head had been on satoru’s strong chest, cocooned in his infinity while his arm was curled behind his own head, scrolling aimlessly through a shady porn website on your phone with the intention of finding a cheesy hentai episode for the two of you to watch and dissect for jokes, a tradition in your relationship when you were in between streaming shows. satoru ended up choosing one from your recently watched, and as the two of you watched the exaggerated, almost comical movements of the animated couple fucking on the screen, you had expected his boyish jokes to begin and make you giggle, but he’d been silent— eyes darkening with something worse than lust at the sight of the x-ray view of the male character’s engorged cock sinking deep into the female character’s pussy while she wailed and babbled incoherently.

this what gets you hot ‘n’ bothered when i’m not around, angel?

the rest is hazy, lost in the way you’re splayed out on the sheets now, knees bent to your shoulders and fingers desperately digging into the backs of your trembling thighs to hold them in the air for gojo. the position is uncomfortable and you’re not flexible like that, joints in your poor hips aching but you don’t care, not when he’s got your breasts bouncing lewdly with each repeated, dirty slam of the tip of his cock right up against your womb until you can practically feel him in your throat, stealing the desperate screams right from your vocal cords.

“that’s a real shame, princess,” he coos, an egoistic smirk on his lips but it falters when you squeeze ‘round him just right, sore cunt twitching against the hard swell of his cock. his ocean blues dim, fingernails scratching against your squishy sides for leverage not to fuck deeper but to push you away because while he’s practiced, you feel too fucking good and he needs a minute, damn it, he’ll cum too fucking fast and ruin the perfect view of your cunt and it’ll be all your fault—

“wah-why did you stop-... please, miss your cock so much,” you simper, needy.

but he ignores your sweet little cries, drawing his hips back until his cock slips out of you and he lays it flat against your seam, greedily drinking down how fucking pretty you look beneath him like this, so good for him in the way you struggle to hold those sweet thighs up so he can have easy access to an even sweeter cunt. he wraps one hand around the root of his sticky girth, can’t help himself when he slaps the tip hard against the hood of your clit, just to earn that cute little yelp you make. “you’re so good for me always, sugar. such a good girl, huh? but i’m not sure of that anymore after tonight. you’ve been holding out on me.”

“w… wh- i am a good girl-”

“but that’s okay,” he cuts you off. “i’ve got a front row seat now. know why?”

he loves watching the pretty picture that confusion paints on a fucked out expression like yours. you fumble for the answer like a teacher’s pet, even though you’re distracted by grinding your clit against the tip of gojo’s cock for desperate, greedy friction. you’re too drunk on him to understand the true meaning behind those slurred out words and he knows it. head always caught up in the pleasure simmering in your belly that you forget the man fucking you is considered the strongest sorcerer in the world for a reason and oh … oh, there it is.

sometimes you forget that he views the world differently than normal men. the x-ray porn you secretly like may be an unrealistic act seen only in hentai, but gojo satoru wouldn’t be the strongest sorcerer if he couldn’t bring fiction into reality.

“y-you can see inside me,” you whisper, a little awed, and the thought of it is so fucking hot. you squeeze around emptiness when he nods, wanting to suck his tip right back into your tight pussy and you can practically feel the slick dripping out of you as he flashes a devastating, heartbreaker smile at you. “the six eyes. y-you can see how much i want you to fuck me again.”

“smart girl,” his praise warms your veins until your blood feels honeyed, running through you thick and slow. gojo flicks the tip against your clit one last time for the road before he reaches down, spreading one side of your folds open so he can nudge at the creamy ring to your cunt. “i can see everything.”

“i can see how this little cunt is stubborn, how she never wants to stretch properly f’ me, the way she twitches when i hit it just right. i can see everything,” and he can, his technique zeroing in on his girth sinking in and stretching you wide, his answering whine almost louder than yours, eyes threatening to clamp shut as he feeds you the long stretch of his cock once more. the air in the bedroom of his penthouse makes your bodies slippery with sweat while you squirm underneath him on hot sheets, your breath wheezing out of your lungs until you can’t breathe. “look at that.”

“i- hng, can’t-!”

it’s a hotter fuck like this, knowing those pretty blue eyes can see every rib and ridge of the inside of your pussy. that satoru knows the exact way your gummy walls, pretty pink against the white of his cock, look when you swell and squeeze for the stinging stretch, smeared in his precum. it makes you feel delirious— expression cracked wide open with pleasure, tongue lolling out of your pretty mouth, gaze fluttering releasing desperate whines as gojo fucks too fast, cockhead bullying your g-spot into overstimulation so that you can’t even fight it when you gush, the lewd sound of slick squelching out of you burning heat into your cheeks.

“look at you, squirtin’ all over me, angel,” gojo groans, stamping down the fast approach of his orgasm as arousal streams down the curve of your ass, wetting his expensive sheets. watching the way your swollen, puffy pussy spasms and tries to force him out but it only makes him drive deeper, his pace brutal— his hips rouged red from the friction of your bodies slapping together. “prettiest pussy in the whole world. you know that?”

“y'r gonna cum inside me, right 'toru? s-so i'll look even prettier?” you simper under the praise, big doe eyes staring up at him behind a dreamy haze.

“shouldn't have said that, sweet girl. ooooh, f-fuck. you shouldn't. have. said. that. fuck fuck fuck, i'm gonna put my cum right here, ” he babbles desperately, a big hand splaying out on your belly, pressing down hard as his thumb dips low, circling your sticky clit almost desperately. the words punctuated by the heavy slap of his balls against your ass, headboard knocking violently into the wall. his spine tenses, orgasm building in the pit of his gut and he can’t wait to see it, the sight of his cum painting against your pretty walls. “and you're gonna take care of it f’ me, aren’t you? promise ‘toru you won't spill a drop?”

“i promise-! i promise i promise i promise, give me your cum- ‘toru- pleas-”

“shut up, angel face. you’re about to make me miss the best part of the movie.”

#little novels.#gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk thirsts #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you

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lemonlover1110 · 5 months

Text

𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Ever since you spilled coffee on your co-worker, you find yourself getting in compromising situations with him.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, co-worker Toji, office sex, oral sex (m. receiving), gagging, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, praise, semi-public sex(?? they're in the janitor's closet in the first part and there's people outside)

*Finally the last one!!! thank you all so much for 10k again🥹 I'm almost at 13k now so thank you all so much for your support, I love you all so very much

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Apart from his name, you don’t know anything about the man you work with. Toji sits next to you eight hours a day, yet you’ve never gotten to properly know him. You have no idea if he’s married, if he has kids, a pet– What waits for him when he gets home? Does he have any hobbies? The only time you ever talk is about work, and you typically wouldn’t care about knowing your coworkers if it weren’t for the fact that you constantly find yourself daydreaming over Toji.

What you like the most about Toji may be the fact that he barely speaks since it leaves you questioning everything about his personality. You make a perfect version of your co-worker in your head which has you head over heels for him. It certainly doesn’t help that Toji is exactly the type of man who you want behind you, fucking you senseless.

You hate to have those types of thoughts in the middle of the day, and worst of all, you’re mindlessly staring at him, and it’s too late to turn away when he asks you what’s wrong. He clears his throat, and you feel your face burning hot when he asks, “Is everything okay? Do I have something on my shirt?”

“Oh– No! Sorry…” You can’t play it off much since you stared at him like a lovesick teenage girl. You try to ignore the awkward interaction by looking back at your computer, trying to go back to work, trying to ignore the very embarrassing fact that Toji caught you daydreaming.

You feel his eyes on you as you turn back to your work, and you swear you could crawl in a hole and die of embarrassment. His gaze lingers on you for a moment before Toji turns his attention back to his own job. You don’t stress about it, completely forgetting about the awkward interaction after five minutes.

You work fine throughout the afternoon, and when you finally get out of your chair to take a break, you bump into him. Toji’s coffee spills all over his white button up shirt, making a gasp leave your lips. Toji doesn’t have much of a reaction even though the coffee looks hot. Your immediate reaction is to rub your long sleeve on his shirt to try to clean it up. You’re repeating, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I should watch where I’m going.”

“It’s fine. You’re fine.” Toji just holds his arms up as if he were being threatened by a gun. Toji isn’t a man that gets flustered easily but by the way you’re unintentionally touching him to clean him up, his cheeks burn. “It’s fine, really. I’ll just clean up in the bathroom–”

“I’m sorry.” You jerk back when you realize just how much you’ve been touching him without his permission. He lets out a chuckle, making it seem that it’s fine. It was an honest mistake, he surely doesn’t mind if a pretty girl bumps into him… Now, if it was one of the old guys that work in the office, it’d be a whole different story. You watch him walk away, mentally cursing at yourself for being so fucking dumb.

You notice the mess on the floor and you tiptoe around it to go to the janitor’s closet and get some stuff to clean it up. You enter the small room, turning on the light to look for some paper towels. You click your tongue, seeing that they’re on the top shelf.

You stand on your tippy toes trying to reach a roll but they’re too far back for you. Would it be too embarrassing to jump? Nobody is watching… Just when you’re about to jump, you feel a body pressed against your back. Your head slowly turns, and luckily, you find your handsome co-worker, grabbing the paper towel for you.

“Here you go.” He gives it to you when you turn around, and you awkwardly smile at him as you take it from his hand.

“Thank you, Fushiguro. Again, I’m so sorry.” You repeat. You feel your heart skip a beat when you realize just how close he is, hearing him breathe and feeling the warmth that his body gives. His dark green eyes are filled with lust, and he makes no effort in disguising it. You’re flattered, really, but this isn’t appropriate considering where you’re at.

“Please, call me Toji.” He licks his lips, and you feel as if you’re burning up. The heat his body emits really doesn’t help you cool you down either. Your eyes look at the door that’s closed for a reason… It’s locked.

You’ve imagined this scenario one too many times, and you always imagined yourself as the most confident woman in the world– But as it happens to you, you’re too shy to really do anything. “I’ve seen the way you look at me… And thought of a way your pretty face could make up for my ruined shirt.”

“Toji…” Is all that manages to leave your pathetic lips. You’re not scared, your body is practically begging for his touch. “It’s not appropriate to do what you want to do here.”

“Why not? The door is locked.” He says as he grabs your hand and puts it on his belt. His lips meet yours, his tongue going past your lips and wandering around in your mouth before it presses against yours. He’s just like you imagined, intoxicating.

Your hands begin to move on their own, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants. You can’t take too long since you have to get back to work soon, it’ll be quick, hopefully. You pull away from the kiss, getting on your knees. You pull down his briefs, letting his cock free from its confinement. It’s more than you expected.

You lick your lip before biting down and looking up at him. He has a smirk on his face as he waits for you to do more than just stare. Your tongue licks up from the base to the tip before fully wrapping your mouth around it, taking as much as you can get.

You bob your head slowly, starting off slow. And as Toji feels your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock, he thinks that maybe this wasn’t his brightest idea. He lets out a breathy moan, feeling so good. Your bobs begin to pick up a bit of speed, and the man stops talking for a second to enjoy the feeling of your mouth wrapped around his cock.

“You look so pretty on your knees like that. You’re just a pretty little thing.” He sighs, relieved. He decides to bite his bottom lip, holding back moans so the whole office doesn’t hear him as you suck him off. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”

You look up at him, pleased with what you’re doing. You’re doing what you’ve always thought of doing with him– But you’re in the office. You can’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be heard. But he got a bit too caught up, enjoying the feeling of your mouth and your tongue.

He grabs the back of your head and pushes your head so you gag on his cock. It’s your punishment for ruining his shirt. Your gagging is like music to his ears, the greatest melody he has ever heard.

“Fuck– Fuck-” He moans as a couple of tears leave your eyes. He begins to move his hips, which he finds more fun than just pushing your head on his cock. “God, such a pretty girl taking my cock.”

He’s completely forgotten about the fact that you’re in the office, and he’s getting loud. He’s staring down at you, admiring just how beautiful you look with your mouth wrapped around him. He lets out a groan, filling your mouth with his cum.

He finally lets go of your head, and you take your mouth off his cock. You swallow most of his cum, but some of it manages to escape and it drips down the corners of your mouth. Toji bends down to clean it up, pressing you to open your mouth so he can wipe the remaining cum on your tongue.

“You have to fix your makeup, by the way. I’ll see you out there.” Toji says, fixing his pants before unlocking the door and leaving you to fix yourself up.

You’d definitely be mad being left alone so fast after sucking a guy off, but you can’t be mad at him. If anything, it makes you want him even more.

“Hey, can you help me with this?” Toji asks, eyes focused on the new program that you’re working with. It’s no surprise that he doesn’t know how to use it– Not that you want to be rude but it makes sense.

After your little encounter in the janitor’s closet, Toji hasn’t really tried to do anything else with you. You were slightly disappointed but you managed to move on. What really worried you was any of your co-workers hearing how he moaned while you two just managed to be locked in the janitor’s closet. What really made things confusing was the fact that you came back with no paper towels even though you were going to clean up the mess you just made.

“Yeah sure.” You’re sure that it won’t take too long. You’re off in around thirty minutes, teaching him shouldn’t take longer than five minutes.

At least that’s what you thought, it seems that Toji isn’t smart enough to catch on with it quickly. Your co-workers begin to leave one by one, and when you’re the last ones in the office, you’re convinced that Toji isn’t even qualified for the job. Until you realize that Toji isn’t even paying attention, his eyes have been ogling your cleavage the entire time… It’s not like you can even blame the poor guy since your boobs have been practically on his face the entire time.

“Should we continue this tomorrow? It seems your eyes are elsewhere.” You point out, and he lets out a chuckle.

“I agree. We should continue with that tomorrow. I need help with something else though.” Toji says, clicking out of the program.

“Can we do it tomorrow–” You begin but he shakes his head. You furrow your brows in confusion as you watch him turn off the computer. What exactly does he need help with?

Toji stands up from his chair, taking two steps to get close to you before his hand goes under your chin and he makes you look up at him. It clicks right there and then. Toji didn’t need to learn how to use the program, he just wanted to get you all alone in the office.

“I don’t think this issue can wait till tomorrow.” His voice becomes husky, and you squeeze your thighs out of reflex. You’re not planning on fighting it. He’s been flirtatious with you all morning, and you’ve been thinking of him a million different positions he can put you in… Curse your dirty mind.

“Does it really? I thought you didn’t even want me after… Well, you know, the incident in the janitor’s closet. You didn’t even try to make a move on me after.” You point out, and Toji laughs. You don’t exactly find what’s funny about this. “What’s funny?”

“Maybe you’re just not available for me. You’re always going out with everyone else, what do you want me to do? Steal you from them? Let them know I want to fuck the shit out of you?” He answers. And maybe he’s right, you have been going out with your other co-workers after work to get a drink, and when it’s not that, he’s out of the office. You really haven’t given him much of a chance to ask you out or let him fuck you after work.

You won’t admit you’re at fault, therefore you decide to move your hands to the back of his head.

“Just shut up and kiss me.” You tell him, pulling him into a kiss. It’s not worth spending time arguing any longer since you two clearly want to do something that doesn’t involve much talking. While your tongues press against each other, his hands move under your ass to lift you up and put you on his desk.

As he kisses you passionately, his hand goes to your thigh, caressing the soft flesh that your skirt exposes. His hand goes up to your panties, toying with your clothed cunt, working you up. He moves your panties to the side, running his fingers through your already slick folds. He pulls away with a smirk on his face, only to say, “You’re already so wet for me, pretty girl. But I haven’t done anything?”

“Shut up.” You sound embarrassed, and you are. Just the thought of him fucking you is enough to make you go crazy.

He pushes two fingers into your cunt, his lips landing on yours again. His tongue glides over yours while he curves his fingers, searching for your sweet spot. He knows when he finds it, feeling a moan through your tongue.

His fingers toy with you, while his free hand frees his cock. He pulls his fingers out when his cock is free. He runs the tip through your folds, and he begins to tease you. You hold your breath in anticipation, waiting ever so patiently for Toji to bury himself inside of you.

You breathe in as he pushes himself inside of you. He lets out a breathy moan as your walls wrap around his cock. Fuck, he didn’t think you would feel so tight and warm around him… Oh fuck, this is too fucking good. How did he not fuck you in the janitor’s closet immediately?

His cock slowly stretches you out, and you bite your bottom lip, holding back from being loud. There’s no one around, but you still don’t want to draw any attention to yourself.

Toji starts off slow but quickly picks up speed. You’re taking him so well, and fuck, do you look beautiful. He’s surprised he hadn’t made a move sooner– But he couldn’t, he had no way of knowing that you liked him. Not until he caught you daydreaming while staring at him.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” He tells you as his head goes to the crook of your neck. He licks it before biting down lightly. His head remains buried on your neck, where he lets his moans out so they come out muffled. “And your pussy is so fucking tight.”

He’s too lost in pleasure to even have noticed how your hand had gone down and now you’re playing with your clit. He hears your sweet moans in the air, which is truly the best music that has ever graced his ears. Fuck, he could ask you to marry him right then and there just to hear that every morning and night.

“Oh fuck, Toji–” Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. Toji’s hitting just the right spot, and he doesn’t even know it. You’re squeezing around him as your orgasm nears. You had many ideas on how your work day would end, but you truly didn’t expect to be on cloud nine when it ended.

Thank the heavens for Toji. That’s all you can think about when you reach your high, loudly moaning his name which echoes in the empty office building.

Toji’s breath gets caught up in his chest, his thrusts getting sloppy as his release approaches. He doesn’t want this to end yet– But maybe he could invite you out to dinner and then take you back to his place. The night doesn’t have to end so soon…

His nails dig into the soft flesh of your thighs as he reaches his release, his hot cum filling you up. Toji remains buried inside of you for a moment, while you both take a moment to regulate your breath. He pulls out and fixes your panties quickly before his cum gets everywhere.

You’re both quiet as you gather your stuff to leave. You wait for each other to go to the elevator, and even when you’re inside the lift, you’re awfully quiet for a pair of people that just had sex.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” You smile at Toji when you get to your floor. He grabs your hand before you can walk away and he proposes,

“Let’s actually grab a drink.”

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