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#watching this show together that I don’t have but if I didn’t hole up like that then I wouldn’t have practiced writing as a teen which
dilf-rot · 2 days
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Avoidant Attachment
based on Anon request :  could you do a fic of meeting Logan and wade in the void and joining the team? Logan and you are into each other but are kinda awkward hide behind being mean to each other wades so over it later on smuttt <3333
Word Count: 5841 
Tags: Wolverine x Reader, Worst!Wolverine x Reader, Logan howlett x Reader, Fem!Reader (kinda?), Wade is here too, Meeting in the Void, Deadpool 3, Deadpool and Wolverine, Laura is Also here, 5 people in a one bedroom apartment is a great idea, Althea is here briefly, dogpool mention, slower burn but like not really, mutual pining, Wade and Laura as wingmen, insults as flirting, eventual smut, One bed trope included, P in V, Riding
AN: This one took a lot longer than I was expecting, probably since I haven’t written Wade before and I didn’t want it to suck, and also because I was quite busy irl. Regardless, thank you for the request and your patience, Hope you don’t mind my interpretation of the prompt<3
MDNI 18+
—------------------
The Void. Boring as Hell, and yet somehow worse than hell. At least Hell would grant you company, shitty company, but better than the dust and trash here. You don’t even remember why you got put here. Probably some bullshit you weren’t even responsible for. You had a pretty lame set up, just a hole in the ground really. And you’d find garbage to shift through, look for food. You had managed to do pretty well on your own for a decent amount of time. Other than being lonely, and the occasional breakdown, things weren’t so bad.
The air was stale and unremarkable, as was the sky, no sign of oncoming doom or any excitement for the day. Or so you thought. 
Over the horizon of dusty dirt and forgotten garbage, appeared two silhouettes. 
As they approached, inching closer and closer you debated on whether you should interact or just ignore, they didn’t seem like they had been here long. 
You watched closely waiting for your moment to make a move. Listening to them as they approached.
Deadpool. Common, usually annoying. 
But the one with him. That’s a rather rare sight. You had never seen one of him before.
They seemed like they were on a mission, maybe trying to escape from here. If you could escape, maybe you could return to something approaching a normal life again. 
You decide to take the chance.
“Hello,” You pop out from your little shelter. Both men jolt into action, blades and guns drawn. The man in yellow, the interesting rare man, had blades coming out of his hands. “Oh no, not a threat.” 
They regard each other and then put the weapons away.
“Knew I smelt something,” his voice was rough and it added to his appeal for sure. 
“And you didn’t want to say anything? Some blood hound you are!” Deadpool spoke, punching the gruff one in the shoulder.
“Sorry, I know you’re a Deadpool. But you are?” You point to him. 
“Logan,” “Wolverine,” they speak out in tandem. 
“Right, so… what’re you doing this far out?” 
“Not telling you random dirt dweller,” Deadpool looked back towards Logan, and seemed to be weighing his options.
“Ok well, if you decide to be friendly I could offer my help.”
“You don’t look like you’d be of much help,” Logan retorted as he looked you over. You were obviously smaller and not as strong as either of them, but you had some tricks up your sleeve.
“Ouch, I would be offended if you didn’t have hair like kitty ears.” You pointed up at Logan’s hair and he seemed surprised by your response. “I’ve been in the void longer than you, I’m sure I know some things that would be useful to you,”
“Listen, Kid-”
“Yeah, me and Kitty Cat here are trying to get back at that bald freak show of a woman and escape this hell. So unless you know how to do that, I’d stay out of it, dust bunny.” 
You laugh and look at the state of them, confused but still combative, barely holding it together and hardly friends. “That’s a good one. Good luck with Cassandra then, Ketchup and Mustard.”
Deadpool gasps and Logan seems to have the inklings of a smile on his face but it quickly fades when you turn to look at him. You sit down on a nearby piece of rubble and watch as they take a few steps away and start to argue about what the plan is. You smile and wave when they look back at you.
“Ok, so what do you know?” Deadpool asks, rushing back up to you. And so you do your best to fill him in on as much as you know about the void itself and Cassandra. All of which seems to not be that useful to him as he just sort of brushes it off and continues, “Well as much as I’d love to have you on the team sunshine, seems like Wolvie over there isn’t too keen on it.” He points over to Logan, who turns away and kicks some dust and debris around. “But, between you and me, he’s just bad with girls. Especially pretty ones with quick mouths.” 
You blush a bit but return a quick retort, “That’s fine, not like I have anything to escape back to anyway. Good luck, random Deadpool.”
“It’s Wade.” 
“Right,” You wave as he runs back to Logan. You imagined it wouldn’t be that long before you see them again, mostly because you had planned on following them, or at least trailing them for long enough to find a new place to stay. 
—-----------
You meet them again at the safe house with Laura, she drove them here and plopped them down without a word. She had been very welcoming when you had wandered this way in search of food, and let you join them for a quick meal. You had told her that you saw Wolverine, and her interest had been piqued. She explained to you everything that had happened before she was sent here, and the two of you bonded over not having something to return too. Although now, with this Wolverine sitting in the same space, it seemed like her chances were looking up.
You figured you’d let them be once they woke up, and wait it out. By the time everyone had finished their speeches, you just stood behind them and waved. You didn’t have much to say, everyone else had much more valid reasoning for wanting to escape than you. You could hardly remember life before the void, if you even had one. Luckily, nobody ever bothered to press you about it, probably assuming you had forgotten for a valid reason. So when Deadpool- Wade, asked you for your input, you sort of just shrugged. Listening to them all plotting was entertaining at least, you were sure you would be of much use, maybe an extra distraction, at the very least you could cover them enough to get the job done. 
You noticed Logan slip out with a bottle of liquor in his hands. You gave Laura a nod before following him outside.
He had started a fire, and was sitting watching the flames.
“So how’d someone like you end up with someone like that?” You gesture back up to the house, as you stand against a tree, watching the fire flicker in front of him.
“It’s complicated.” He says taking a swig from the bottle.
“It always is.” Silence runs through the trees, nothing but crackling fire and the dead stale air of the void. “At least he seems fun.”
“Hah,” He breathes out.
“If that’s what you’re into.”
“No.” His gruff demeanor drops for a second, the bottle halting as he brings it down from his lips.
“No?”
He looks you over, before turning away.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll say a prayer for your liver,” You reference the bottle in your hand. He nods, and you walk back up to the house, passing Laura on your way in. She’d probably have better luck cracking him than you.
You wondered if you would ever have a chance to mean something to him, to be more than some small tag along he sniffed out in the dirt. If he would ever find you to be a friend, an ally, someone to talk to, depend on. But you hardly just met, and hardly discussed anything other than half baked insults and nihilistic opinions of the void and your futures.  
—----------------
Wade and Logan had somehow convinced the TVA after everything with Cassandra to allow you and Laura to stay in this universe, and you weren’t sure how or why they wanted you to come along. Laura made sense, he felt responsible for her, and to make up for losing her Logan, to make up for missed moments. 
You? You hardly had a clue why they wanted you here. Or why they offered to let you stay with them until you found something else. You were surprised that Althea would agree to having 5 people sleeping in a tiny apartment. You appreciated the shelter, you were just very very confused by the entire situation. 
“Hello my little floor sleeper, how were your dreams? You were moaning about something…” He slides up next to you in the kitchen as you're pouring a cup of coffee.
“Hi, Wade.” You sip from the mug, not answering his nonsense.
“So,” he jumps up to sit on the counter in front of you, “You gonna spill? Tell me all about your honey badger dream fling? I was surprised you didn’t just wake up and mount him right there on the floor.”
“Shut up, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, the three of us sleep in the same tiny space, I hear everything.” 
“I’m gonna steal the couch space from you if you don’t drop it.”
Laura had been given a space in Althea’s room since the boys figured she deserved it, and You, Logan, and Wade were stuck in the living room. Rotating between the couch and cheap air mattresses, usually you just stayed on the floor and let Logan and Wade fight over the couch space. Compared to sleeping on grass and dirt in the void, an air mattress was a definite improvement. As long as Mary Puppins didn’t lick you to death in your sleep, it wasn’t a bad deal. 
“Come on, just admit you like Loggie Bear and I’ll get you some alone time with or without the couch.” 
“Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“Currently, no.”
You sigh, and walk towards the bathroom to change, locking the door behind you as Wade continues to ramble and try to get you to slip and say something about Logan. But you won’t, even if he is right.
There were many nights where you thought about climbing into bed next to him and pressing your face against his chest, breathing in his scent, being held close to him by those utterly ridiculous arms, having him place warm chaste kisses against the top of your head. But you wouldn’t.  
You hardly knew him, and what you knew about him led you to believe that he was not the kind of man to be interested in someone like you. Although he had become more pleasant after having been invited into Wade’s life. Some days he still was that gruff sort of emotionally unavailable man you met in the void, but other days he’s sweet and gentle and kind, usually whenever Laura’s around. It’s as if he’s been given a reason to live again and he’s navigating how to be a person again. 
After you get dressed, you grab your bag and head out, avoiding Wade and his nonsense. You told Laura you’d meet her after her class and go to a cafe she’s been wanting to try. It’s just down the street from the apartment, but the walk is nice and gives you time to get your thoughts back in order. Trying to keep Wade’s pestering from seeping in and getting you to slip up.
When you get to the cafe, Laura is waiting for you outside. You go in and are met with soft florals, sleek wood finish, and the overwhelming smell of coffee. It is so cozy and bright, a welcome break from the dim and crowded apartment. Laura orders something you didn’t know was a thing, and you opt for a simple latte. She finds this funny and smiles at you, “Don’t you want something sweet?”
“No, I’m alright.” You lean against the wall as you wait for your order.
“What’s with you and Logan’s hatred for sugar?” She asks as she slides over to stand next to you.
“I don’t hate sugar, I’m just not in the mood for it.” You shrug and stare at the counter.
“At least you get milk with your coffee, better than black like Logan drinks.” She laughs again and grabs your order when it’s called. The two of you find a nice table by the window and enjoy watching the people passing by. When a particularly handsome man passes by, Laura perks up and asks, “How about that one?”
“He’s alright, not really my type though,” You shrug your shoulders and take another sip from your cup.
“You’re right, I already know your type.” The grin on your face reminds you of how Wade greets you in the mornings.
“Oh yeah? What's that?” You look at her quizzically. 
“Starts with an L and ends with an ogan”
You groan, “Don’t I get enough of that from Wade?”
“I think everyone can see it but you, even Al.” She looks up at you from her drink, in a way you both know she’s right.
“Wow,” is all you can muster in response. 
“I don’t know why you won’t do something about it, and look if you’re worried about me, don’t be. I give you full permission to pursue my not Dad kinda Dad.” 
You quickly try to change the subject, and once your coffee's finished and you’ve loitered around, you walk back in a knowing silence. 
You do have some sort of crush on Logan, but you feel like it would be too ideal to expect him to share those feelings. Especially when you aren’t one hundred percent sure what those feelings even are. He is exceptionally good looking, and well built. If it weren’t for his confrontational attitude and lack of expression, you’d be so certain in your attraction. But there is something blocking you from fully admitting it to yourself.
Maybe it is simply your lack of self, having to build back an identity from nothing, that keeps you from knowing if He is it for you. Even though sometimes he is all you can think about. When you catch him playing dad with Laura. When you catch him helping Althea, a gentle smile plastered on his face as he speaks soft and gentlemanly. When he falls asleep on the couch with Mary Puppins in his arms. The images of the side he works so hard to hide, the soft domesticity he allows himself so rarely. That is what really sticks in your brain.
Along with the less than innocent images you have carved into your brain. Like that time he forgot you were home and came out from the bathroom only wrapped in a towel. The water clinging to his muscles and dripping from his hair. Or when he had his sleeves rolled up while walking around the apartment, the skin shiny from sweat, and all you could think about was what it would feel like to be held in place by them.
When you remember yourself, both you and Laura have made it back to the apartment. 
—-------
You were surprised that for once, everyone was home for dinner, and it wasn’t even a special occasion. Wade decided that it would be easiest to order some pizzas to avoid having to cook. You didn’t complain, even if you would have preferred a home cooked meal, pizza was fine. Of course he had gone to pick it up and left you with Logan, Laura, and Althea. She, reasonably so, had her spot already picked out in the armchair by the window. Logan and Laura were sitting on opposite sides of the couch, watching something on tv. All the while you sat on the floor, legs folded over each other, leaning back on your hands. 
“Why don’t you come sit on the couch?” Laura had asked, and you knew she already knew the answer, which was that you didn’t want to be so close to Logan that you would be touching. You had been cultivating a very specific environment with him, one where if you could just avoid any close contact with him, you could pretend like your heart didn't ache at the thought of him.
“I’m good here,” You didn’t bother looking away from the tv, which you weren’t even watching. 
“Come on,” Laura patted the cushion next to her. 
“Maybe I don’t want to sit next to the cat,” You looked over your shoulder at them. Logan was leaning back into the cushions behind him.
“I don’t want to sit next to you either,” His tone was only slightly malicious.
“Good.”
“Just sit on the couch,” Laura insisted. 
“No. He reeks, I think the animal dna gave him the scent too,” You waved your hand in front of your nose.
“But I don’t smell,” Laura sniffed her shirt.
“You reek too, ya know?” Logan pointed to Mary Puppins in the corner, “Probably cause you’re always sleeping next to that.” 
“Thanks. She’s actually a better roommate than you.” 
“You all stink,” Althea commented from her spot. 
As you stood up to walk towards the kitchen the door swung open. “PIZZA TIME!” Wade shouted, carrying the stack of boxes into the apartment. 
You ate mostly in silence, as Wade rambled on about something or someone that you had no interest in. Lately he was obsessed with those trashy reality tv shows were people all live in one house and things go wrong one way or another. You felt like you were already living in that, no need to watch strangers go through it too. It’s not that you felt like you were walking on eggshells, or that you weren’t welcome. More so that you were waiting for this whole thing to blow up in your face. 
—---------
It was late in the morning when you managed to roll out of your bed. Logan and Wade had already been awake and were trying their hardest to be quiet. Rather, Logan was quiet, and Wade was not. You didn’t hear what they were talking about, only that Logan mumbled something under his breath and Wade turned to see you sitting up on the floor.
“Good morning sleeping beauty! Pancakes or waffles?” He turned to you and you saw he was wearing one of those tacky ‘kiss the chef’ aprons.
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and stood up to stretch, “Whichever you’re less likely to burn.” 
Wade feigned offense, as you walked into the bathroom to brush your teeth and hair. “How do you manage to sleep so soundly down there?” Wade called from the kitchen as you walked back into the living room.
“I don’t.” You pulled out a chair and sat at the dining table, still groggy. “Which is why I need to get a job, and my own place.” 
“You’re leaving me?” Wade gasped, and crossed his hands over his heart. “How could you? What about the kids?” He started making a big fuss about it as if you hadn’t told him before that this had been your plan. “I can’t believe you would leave me alone with honey badger and the little ones! I can’t raise them alone.”
“Everyone that lives here is an adult, Wade.”
“Let her be,” Laura said as she slid into the kitchen and sat next to you. She smiled at you and nodded. 
Wade and Logan joined you at the table, sliding the plates of pancakes to you and her. They weren’t burnt, which was progress. 
—--------
You had spent the day job hunting, and apartment hunting, which was not as important since you kinda needed the money first. The cafe you had been to with Laura was hiring, though not having much of a resume due to the whole void and lack of a world thing, probably meant your chances of getting hired were slim. You submitted an application anyway, and to a few other shops and things in the area. Hopefully something would stick.
There really weren't many options in the area for apartments either, but when you ran into the building manager they had mentioned that one of the other units on your floor might be opening up soon. It wasn’t ideal to be in the same building as Wade and the others, but it was your only lead at the moment. 
When Wade got home, he had a sort of look in his eyes, which you had learned meant something was up. And when Laura came home with the same sort of look, you were even more suspicious. 
“What are you two doing?” You asked, approaching them in the kitchen.
“Well I thought I could do something nice for you,” Wade had his hands behind his back, holding something hidden from you. “And Logan,” he whispered but you still caught it.
“What?” Logan appeared from the bathroom, and leaned against the wall.
Wade handed you a piece of paper, “Tada!” You looked over the paper, it was a reservation confirmation for a hotel. “A magical getaway for you and the kitty cat to work out your differences at an all inclusive resort!”
“This is a Best Western.” The dates on the sheet were for tomorrow, Friday, until Sunday morning. 
“Did I stutter?” Wade stood with his hands on his hips.
“Who said I wanted to do this?” Logan asked, coming up behind you to look at the paper. He was so close you could almost feel his warmth against you. 
“Come on, you complain about the air mattress all the time,” Laura started, “This is your chance for a real bed.”
“Ok? So why do I have to go with her,” He was looming behind you, and the deep vibrations of his voice made your cheeks redden.
“It was cheaper to have two guests than one.” 
“Fine,” He walked away. You were also surprised that he would so quickly agree to something like this. As it was so obviously a set up. A plot against you.
“Perfect! Now go get packing!” Wade slapped you on the shoulder, and smiled. You knew this was all his idea. 
—-------
You were expecting this to be a set up, but when you opened the door and saw only one bed you knew it to be true. Logan walks in while you hold the door and he drops down onto the edge of the bed. You sigh as you drag your bag in and make a mental note to get back at Wade later. You turn the TV on to try to dispel the oppressive silence in the room, but all that's on the hotel cable is questionably written Hallmark movies. Logan shifts on the bed, and you hear it creak under his weight. You wonder what he would feel like on top of you, if he would crush you entirely.
 You sit in the chair that's against the wall, peering out through the cracks in the curtains to stare out at the parking lot, the sun is low against the horizon, and it’s surprisingly quiet. You can hear the fabric of the cheap hotel sheets rustling under Logan, along with the sound of his breathing, as he leans back into the bed, and you wonder how long you’ll be able to survive in a small room alone with him.
Despite having slept in the same room for the past few months, this is an entirely different situation. There’s no Wade, or Laura, or Mary puppins, or Althea. It is just you and him, in a hotel room, with one bed. Which was certainly a set up from Wade, in his quests to get you to admit your feelings for Logan. 
“Are you hungry?” You try to break the silence in the most mundane way possible, at least to save yourself from the discomfort.
“I could eat,”
“We could get room service?”
“Fine by me.” You toss him the menu and once you both decide on what to get you call it in. It was going to take a while, so you decided to take advantage of the luxury of a hotel shower. Telling Logan you wouldn’t be too long and to let you know if the food came before you were done. 
The shower is nice, clean white tiles, and a rather standard sort of set up. It is nice to have some time to yourself, despite Logan being in the other room, you try to allow yourself this time to relax. Letting the hot water soak into your skin and soothe your aches and pains. The sound of the water blocking out any thoughts or concerns about the current situation, letting you forget, at least momentarily, that you would be having to sort out the sleeping arrangements. The hotel soap is tropical, but gentle, not too overwhelmingly sweet or fruity. As you lather up you can barely hear the sounds of the tv in the other room. It is so still and unremarkable. It feels normal, but somehow you wonder if you can ever shake the loneliness of time in the void, if you can allow yourself to have a normal life again. As if you can build back something you don’t even remember. As if you deserve this space that has miraculously been carved out for you, for some reason unbeknownst to you. 
Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a knock on the door, and the noise of Logan’s steps going to retrieve the room service. You quickly rinse and towel off, wrapping up your hair and sliding into the hotel bathrobe. 
“Food’s here,” Logan calls from behind the bathroom door. You wait until you hear him sit back down on the bed before opening the door and returning to your spot in the chair. 
The two of you eat in silence, and you can’t help but notice his eyes on you. You wonder if it is just in your head, or if he is actually trying to steal glances at you from across the way. You tried to ignore him, to stare fully at the trash tv movie, or at the weird art on the walls. Anything but him. If you could just pretend like he wasn’t there, you could make it for the next two nights. 
Although being this close to him in a small hotel room was not the ideal scenario to make forgetting about him easy. His breathing was audible. His presence was palpable. Even the vague scent of whiskey, cigars, and sweat was radiating from his position on the bed. Every little detail filled your mind with a fog, and all that was running through your brain was him. Over and over. Logan was everywhere. 
“You want to sleep soon?” His voice cut through the haze and you practically snapped your neck to look over at him.
“Hm? Oh… uh yeah probably.” You couldn’t help but look directly into his eyes, and you felt like you should disappear so that he couldn’t make you feel so foolish. So utterly trapped by the idea of him. “I can Just take the cushions from the chair and sleep on the floor,”
“That defeats the whole point of Wade’s gift.”
“So?” You started pulling the cushions of the chair and throwing them on the floor.
“You can sleep up here in the bed,” His voice was commanding. It was no longer a polite suggestion. “I don’t bite.”
“Right but-” As you go to protest, he interrupts.
“We can face opposite ways.” 
And so that is how you ended up in your pajama shorts and a ratty tee shirt, in bed with Logan. Who, true to his word, had his back facing you, and you had your back facing him. You could hear your heart beating, and no matter what you told yourself you could not get it to slow down. His presence, only inches away, was consuming you. Your mind is unable to stop racing with images of him holding you down, touching you, eating you alive. Making you squirm beneath him. You squirmed and thrashed trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep, but even with your eyes screwed shut you couldn’t.
“Stop moving,” Logan’s voice was low and rumbly. He turned towards you, and laid his arm over your middle, pulling your back against him. “Go to sleep,” He murmured, his lips against the back of your head. 
He was warm and solid behind you, his body pressed to yours gently. His grasp on you wasn’t tight, but the sheer weight of him kept you firmly in place. As you tried to quell your heart and steady your breathing, you finally managed to drift asleep. And stay asleep, the entire night. 
—-----
The hotel was so quiet and peaceful, and clean, compared to the apartment. You managed to sleep soundly, and stay asleep until late in the morning. You had nearly forgotten about the situation, until you were met with Logan’s arm still snuggly wrapped around you as you opened your eyes.
His lips were pressed to the back of your head, his muscular frame firmly pressed against your back. His grip had tightened in the night, and he had pulled you even closer to himself. As you tried to remove yourself from him, he grumbled against you, “Stay.”
“Logan-” You tried to protest, to escape from the growing embarrassment and heat building up in your body.
“Just a bit longer.” He groaned, and pressed himself further into you. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the growing bulge against your lower back. 
“Logan, please. Let me get up.” You pushed against his arm, and tried to pull yourself away but you were no match for him. 
“Why?” His voice was losing the grogginess of sleep, he was almost fully awake now. 
“Because-” You tried again to free yourself.
“Don’t you like me?” He sounded cocky, the question perhaps meaning to be playful but it stopped you dead in your tracks.
“I-” You stiffen, unable to react accordingly. 
“Then, stay.” Taken aback by his words and sudden clingy behavior, you realized that maybe Laura had been right, and everyone, including Logan, could see it. The way you had begun to feel about him, the almost immediate crush you developed as soon as you spotted him in the void, the way you felt thankful to have the chance at life again, simply because you wanted the chance to spend it with him.
You lay stuck in his arms for an unknown amount of time, the silence makes you a little uneasy, but his warmth and tenderness keeps you from leaping away. You didn’t imagine him to be someone so gentle, although you had glimpsed some of his more domestic behaviors when he thought it was just Him and Laura at home, and he would fuss over her like how you would want a good father to do. You felt safe and held by him, the frantic thoughts and anxieties being melted away into the warmth of him and his body against yours. 
As you nearly drift asleep again, he speaks, “Turn around.” And so you do, clumsily, but when you see his face those frantic thoughts and the racing of your heart begins again.  
“So pretty like this,” He murmurs, his face and voice soft. And before you can respond he closes the gap between you, his hand lacing in your hair and pulling you into him as he presses his lips against your gentle and steady. The brief taste of him makes you crave more.
As he pulls away to search your face for any signs of discomfort, you pull him back to you, your hands reaching up to his face to crash your lips into his. You whimper against him as his hands run down your spine and land on your hips, pulling you as close to him as he can. You can feel your arousal pooling between your thighs as he darts his tongue in to meet yours, twisting and tangling yourself with him as much as you can. The months of unspoken tension pouring out of you and dissipating as you desperately try to push yourself against him. You bring your hand down to paw at his bulge, darting your fingers across the fabric of his pajama pants. 
He smiles against you as he catches your hand with his and bring it under the waistband. You gasp when you realize he had not been wearing anything underneath his pants. Your fingers wrapping around him, the warmth and size of him in your hand making your head spin. 
His hands find their way to the edge of your shorts, pulling them and your panties down your legs as he breaks the kiss only for a moment to find his breath. His fingers trace up and down your thighs, pressing gentle circles into the skin before he pushes his hand between them, his palm pressing into you. The brief friction against your clit drawing a short moan from you. His hand rubs against you, the pressure making you grind down to meet him, craving more.
You whine as he pulls his hand away, only for him to grab your hips and pull you on top of him. His back against the bed as he brings you to straddle him. You kick your shorts and panties away, as he pulls his pants down further. His erection springing up against you. You can barely focus long enough to glimpse the size of him, too overcome with greed and arousal. 
You sink yourself onto his cock as his hands guide your hips. You moan at the stretch of it. He lets you catch your breath as you take him down to the hilt. His hands never leave you as he kisses and nips along your neck and shoulders, your head pressed against his shoulder as he begins to rock into you, whispering praises and filth against your skin. 
You grind your hips against his, the head of his cock dragging along that magic spot inside of you that causes the pleasure to build and the knot in your stomach to tighten. He growls in your ear as you tighten and pulse around him. You can feel the pressure building, making your head spin. He slips his fingers into your mouth and you greedily accept them, sucking and licking and kissing along them. He removes them and a trail of your saliva beads down them. He brings them between you to rub circles on your clit. The sensation dizzying, as he draws you closer and closer to the edge. Your moans are frantic as you practically pant against him, begging him not to stop, that you’re so close, so so close. 
With one steady thrust he snaps the last thread and you come undone around him. The feeling of you cumming around him bringing him to his limit, if he wasn’t so enraptured by you he might have been embarrassed with how quickly you’ve made him cum. His warmth fills you as you come down from your high, hazy and drooling. You smile as he presses you against him. You don’t mind staying like this, you whine when he tries to move.
“Alright, princess. I’ll stay.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
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wutheringmights · 2 years
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chelseeebe · 2 months
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just a taste
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18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.
a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)
✧・゚: ✧・゚:
eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here. 
“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?” 
“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking. 
“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.” 
“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.
“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.
this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.
“now?” 
she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.” 
eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.” 
“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched. 
she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room. 
he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it. 
-
eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message. 
“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something. 
he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much. 
you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave. 
two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now. 
not if you were sleeping in his bed. 
it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it. 
“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done. 
who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly. 
“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process. 
“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips. 
“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.” 
his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze. 
'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation. 
-
when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie. 
eddie usually hated movie nights in the house. 
jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre. 
leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered. 
tonight it’s different, you get to pick. 
and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it. 
you land on edward scissorhands. 
not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble. 
in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.
at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath. 
he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.
robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way. 
“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary. 
you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on. 
he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you. 
unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone. 
-
living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive. 
it’s torturous. 
testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding. 
so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.
of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night. 
his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know. 
though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land. 
now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act. 
eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core. 
good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour. 
tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case. 
gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him. 
reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief. 
oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.
“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips. 
eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red. 
“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears. 
your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt. 
you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand. 
“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?” 
eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was. 
“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up. 
“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?” 
there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off. 
“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away. 
you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek. 
eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window. 
“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?” 
he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started. 
“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out. 
you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please. 
-
at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him. 
you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article. 
“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,” 
he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making. 
“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did. 
“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across. 
if only she knew. 
eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.  
he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria. 
cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now. 
everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties. 
-
eddie can’t take it anymore. 
he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer. 
but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure. 
the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport. 
he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women. 
your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand. 
“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down. 
robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful. 
thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose 
he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones. 
how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?
“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much. 
“you want some help with that?” 
eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion. 
it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs. 
“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager. 
he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame. 
your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?
this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric. 
eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.
the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house. 
the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin. 
when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking. 
your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears. 
no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was. 
“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch. 
his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere. 
you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house. 
eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute. 
it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life. 
“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.
you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable
“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.
"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.
“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.
“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.
“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.  
“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.
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upsidedownwithsteve · 8 months
Note
Best friend steve showing you how to finger yourself but it’s just so goofy and unserious but like soooo hot
18+
(characters are high but all consensual.)
Honestly, if anyone had had to ask, you weren’t sure how you would have explained it. How it started, whose idea it was, how the topic of conversation even came up.
But there had been a joint rolled, some of Eddie’s special strain and then you were a few puffs into a second shared with Steve before your shorts were lost at the bottom of his bed.
You were both giggly about it, eyes half lidded and lazy but that all changed when you’d stripped, the boy’s eyes going a little wide, pupils blown as he looked at all the skin on your bare legs.
Your t-shirt covered you for the most part, a ratty old band shirt that had a hole in the collar and it hung just past your underwear, a pair of stupid pink things with a bow on the front.
Less than sexy. This wasn’t sexy.
It was— it was?
“Like this?” You asked, a little breathless, a little embarrassed, but there was laughter in your throat and you weren’t sure what you were even asking because Steve couldn’t even see what you were doing. “Fuck, this is stupid.”
You were against his pillows, the film forgotten in the background, the bowl of popcorn and gummy worms spilled on the floor. Steve was still at the bottom of the bed, sprawled out on his side as he watched you, the dopey smile on his face turning slack because you had your knees hiked up and your heels pressed to his sheets. Your hand was down the front of your underwear, clumsy fingers searching for something you’d told him didn’t really work for you.
You don’t know why you’d told him that.
Steve adjusted himself, his growing cock pressed to the mattress as if he was supposed to hide the fact he was turned on. He wasn’t really sure if you’d be more offended if he wasn’t. He didn’t know the rules when it came to getting yourself off in front of your best friend. So he kept it a little light, laughed breathily and asked:
“You’re such a dumbass. Are you even touching your clit?”
His words buzzed through you, a simple question but bordering on the dirty talk you heard on the late night channels that you always kept at a low volume. You squirmed, shrugging, unable to take your eyes off of Steve. He was watching your hand move, fingers swiping through your folds under the soft cotton and you felt yourself get a little wetter.
You wondered if he could see, if you’d have a little damp patch between your spread legs.
“I think so?” you claimed. “I don’t— it’s just, it’s too slippy to feel anything properly. They didn’t teach us this is sex ed, you know.”
Steve inhaled sharply, breath stuck in his throat like a chokehold. You watched his cheeks burn, a pretty pink glow across the high points of them and you wondered if he’d move closer, if you asked. His hand was lying near your ankle, fingers twitching.
“No, I know— shit, uh—“ Steve swallowed audibly, shifting again, hips moving uncomfortably and you wondered if he was hard, if he was turned on too. “Just— move in circles, be a little softer, Christ, babe. You’ll… you’ll feel it.”
So you did, two fingers exploring slowly, up and down between your spread folds, moving a little higher until you jumped, the pads of your middle and pointer touching a little bump that made your leg jerk.
You laughed, feeling stupid, feeling floaty, bone lazy and searching for another type of high. You crinkled your nose, lashes fluttering as you touched that spot again and again. Slow circles, soft and timid.
“Oh,” you murmured, mouth parting.
You were still watching the boy.
Steve pressed his lips together, watching you back, gaze flickering from your hand underneath the pink cotton to your face, the pretty way your eyes went hooded and dark.
“Yeah? Feel good?”
You nodded, grinning at Steve’s words, head feeling dizzy at the sensation that was building, a hook in your stomach that was pulling tighter and tighter. A laugh bubbled from you, elated, high. “Yeah, s’feels good.”
You thought you heard Steve let out a soft noise, a moan, maybe. He swore, head falling slightly, his forehead bumping the bed before he went back to staring.
“Will I come?” You asked, still smiling, still feeling buzzy. “Like this? If I keep doing this?”
You were squirming again, chasing your fingers and Steve was watching open mouthed. He’d moved, finally, the rock hard evidence of your show evident in his jeans. Steve was too far gone to try and hide it now, the length of him aching and when he dragged the heel of his palm over himself, you keened, eyes tracking the movements.
“Yeah, fuck— yeah, just keep doing what feels good, okay?” Steve voice was hoarse, wrecked sounding, pretty sounding. “You’re doing real good, babe.”
The phrase made your hips lift from the bed a little, fingers boring down a little harder now, confidence growing and the laughter leaving your throat as Steve kept rubbing over his cock, looking at you like were made of gold.
“Holy shit, that’s really fuckin’ hot,” he croaked, “you gonna come, yeah?”
You nodded, head tipped back into the pillows, bones nothing but liquid heat now as your fingers slid messily over your clit, your underwear stretched out over the back of your hand. You wondered if Steve could see anything, if the elastic in the stupid, pink cotton had given away enough for him to see the wet folds of your pussy, if he could see the way you were spread out and desperate.
You wanted him to keep talking. You just didn’t know how to ask.
You keened, back arching, fingers fumbling and face scrunching up in frustration. Your foot slipped, nudging at Steve’s arm and he caught your ankle, wide palm wrapping around it as he held you, keeping you grounded. His thumb ran over the bone there, delicate and making you shiver.
“There you go,” he murmured and he laughed when you did, disbelieving and drunk sounding. “That’s it, huh? Fuck, you’re so good, so good. I can’t believe you’re gonna let me watch you come.”
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flrlgreen · 8 months
Text
jealousy, jealousy (toji fushiguro x reader) + twt prn link
a/n: thank you for the support on my last two posts! i appreciate it so much! here’s some filthy toji action tho. i apologize again for any mistakes i'm always tired.
cw:  age gap, sex toys, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, reader has a vagina, name-calling, recording, use of the names slut, whore, princess, and baby girl, possessiveness, size kink, teasing.
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Having a much older boyfriend wasn’t for the faint of heart. Being a sophomore in college and dating a man who was in his late 30s proved to be challenging at times. Although he took care of your every single need and made sure you never went without. There were times when you couldn’t stand him. 
He knew that dating a young woman in college would be hard. After all, you know what they say about college life. Toji was a possessive man and would do anything to show that you were his. Never mind the age gap between you two. When he found out that Gojo Satoru, a classmate that you were supposed to work on a project with, had asked you out it took every ounce of his being not to tear that man apart. 
It didn’t help that you kept telling him that it didn’t mean anything and that his constant possessive behavior made you want to break up. It just ignited something in him. 
Right now your boyfriend was towering over your smaller frame. It made you rub your thighs together. “So, you wanna break up do you?” He said in a low register. All you could get out was a meek ‘yes’. He laughed when he heard your response and his thumb found your chin. He forced your gaze to meet his.
It felt like he was burning holes in you with his eyes. You couldn’t even manage to make eye contact. “Look at me Doll.” A small tinge of anger was laced with his words. “No.” You knew he wouldn’t like your reply, but getting him frustrated was a part of the fun. “No?” He says and before you could even process what he had said he grabs your waist and hoists you over his shoulder. 
“Toji! Put me down!” You banged your fists on his broad and strong back and it didn’t phase him one bit. He threw your smaller body on the bed and flipped you over. He wasted no time getting on top of you. You felt his hard cock on your ass. “I’m gonna give you one more chance to change that attitude.” He leans in and says next to your ear. “Fuck off.” You spit. Toji’s hand finds your ass and gives it a harsh pinch. “Stay right here, and don’t fucking move.” 
At this point, you’re leaking, and despite wanting to get under Toji’s skin for irritating you, you know better than to move. You feel his body leave the bed and you hear some shuffling before he climbs back into bed and gets behind you. You look up and into the mirror in front of you. “Arch, now.” He demands and you oblige. “Good girl.” He smiles and grabs the dildo he had in hand. You watch as he reaches over your arched body and suctions the dildo to the mirror. “Suck it now.” “R-right now?” You stutter. “Did I stutter, Sweetie?” 
Your lips press against the tip of the dildo and Toji watches as he palms himself with one hand and holds your phone in the other. “Don’t be shy now Princess. Show the camera how well you can suck cock.” Knowing you were on camera made you feel like jelly. 
Your tongue swirls around the soft tip of the sex toy before you begin to move your mouth down the toy inch by inch. As every inch slides down your throat, slurping sounds fill the room as you struggle to take the thick length. “Poor Princess, I know you can take more. You take my huge cock every night.” He teases and rubs your ass, still recording. 
Your throat relaxes around the inches before you take the remaining inches down your warm throat. “That’s a good girl.” Toji groans while pulling his boxers down. You make eye contact with your boyfriend in the mirror while you gag and choke on the fake cock. “Show Gojo how well you can suck cock.” That’s when you realize. Toji is recording this to send to him. The thought alone makes you want to pass out in embarrassment but also makes you hot.
 
Knowing this was going to your flirty classmate, you had to put on a show. You bob your head up and down the length while looking directly into the phone’s camera. Drool ran down your chin and fell onto the bed sheets. Your throat bulged and your eyes rolled to the back of your head every time you went down to the base. “So good at choking on cock. What a slut.” Your boyfriend mutters and pulls your skirt and panties down in one tug. 
“Take it all, and stay there.” Toji uses his free hand to give his thick cock a few experimental pumps before lining it up with your dripping cunt. He shifts the focus of the camera down to where you two are about to be connected. “So fucking wet, all for me. No one else.” He hisses and shoves his entire cock in all at the same time. “God damn,” He groans. No words can escape your mouth that don’t sound muffled.
The sudden feeling of being filled to the brim with Toji’s cock was otherworldly. You cry around the sex toy that’s stuffed down your throat while Toji starts moving. His brutal thrusts make your lower half flash with pleasure every time he hits that sweet spot inside you. “My baby has the tightest little pussy, doesn’t she?” He says all while not slowing down one bit. “Oh wait, your mouth is full isn’t it?” He laughs. “Only I can make you feel this good.” His tone was so deep and laced with so much jealousy like you had never heard before.
The gagging and smacking sounds continued and it was all becoming too much. Toji would occasionally angle the camera downwards so Gojo could of course get a full view of his assault on your pussy, and make direct eye contact with you in the mirror while he made you gag and cry. 
He noticed your body was beginning to show signs of giving out. “Aw, baby. Is it too much?” You nodded with your throat full. “You wanna cum don’t you Princess?” A muffled ‘yes’ was all that came out of your mouth while his tip kissed your cervix with each deep thrust. “God, I’m gonna cum to. Cum for me whore.” That was all you needed. Your knees shook and gave out while your orgasm washed over you and your boyfriend’s thrusts became sloppier. The now-soaking toy slipped from your throat as you melted into the bed. 
“Fuck, I came so fucking much,” Toji says and pans the camera down to the mess he made all over your pussy and ends the video.
Send.
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amyispxnk · 4 months
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Grease and sweat
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Summary - Another day, another venture out of the walls of the Boston QZ with Joel Miller. AKA, another day spent fantasizing about the burly man whom you spend most of your time with these days. When the two of you have to hole up for the night, things get a little heated, and you finally snap.
A/N: i started this oneshot like 6 months ago and finally found some random motivation today to finish it. and im not gonna spoil anything but like.. why has noone talked about this in a fic before? im literally salivating when he does this during the game and like.. yeah. idk. you’ll see.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Word count: 3.5k
Warnings: SMUT!! (oral f!receiving, unprotected PiV sex - don’t do this, especially during an apocalypse!, mentions of masturbation, lewd thoughts), language, age gap (roughly 15 years), firearms, pet names, fluff, aftercare
DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.
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“The fuck’re you lookin’ at, kid?” Joel practically spat, having noticed the way you were eyeing him whilst he worked.
You scoffed, walking up to the workbench he was currently using. Kid. You weren’t a kid. Sure, you were almost 15 years younger than him, but you certainly weren’t a kid.
“I’m 34, Joel. Not a kid.” You argued, leaning on the wall and watching him work.
He just grunted in response before resuming what he was doing before, starting with cleaning his pistol.
His fingers danced along the metal, digging into certain bits with the old rag he used to get any grime out, before he used the screwdriver to make a few adjustments to the handgun.
You never really understood how to do all the fancy things he did with his weapons, and you probably should considering how intently you watched him whenever the pair of you came across one of these old benches - but you couldn’t focus on the guns which were in his hands. His big, strong, rough hands. You’d trade places with those guns just to feel his hands on you like that. He took so much care of the damn things too, like they were the most precious things in his life. Always cleaning and repairing them like this, practically never letting you touch them.. What did those guns have that you didn’t? You thought to yourself as you watched him, gaze drifting to his fingers in particular. The ones you’d dreamt about far too many times, the ones you’d imagined inside of yourself rather than your own when you touched yourself. It was the way they moved, how thick they were, and how the veins in his hands and muscles flexed when he gripped his bow, and the way his arms would shine with his sweat as he worked. You’d lick the sweat off his body if he asked you to. Depraved as it sounds.
Not that you’d ever admit it.
Your absolutely maddening desire for and sickening crush on the man whom you knew close to nothing about. Just his name and a few things he revealed to you when the night was particularly long or the whisky he was having took a toll on his judgement, loosening him up for once. You knew where he was from, what his job was before, and you knew that he was basically just a grumpy old asshole who was only good for beating up guys when you went on supply runs.
He had never been overly kind to you, not that you needed it, had never asked you any questions, didn’t make small talk, and was a ruthless murderer.
You loved every single thing about him.
And you wanted to show him. You wanted him to love you back, no matter how he’d love you. You wouldn’t mind if he was a cold lover, a mean one - hell, he almost definitely was - you’d take him any way you could get him.
You looked back at his hands once more, subconsciously pulling your bottom lip between your teeth when he had to use his ring and middle fingers to clean out part of another gun, your thighs clenching together as you felt the all-too-familiar wetness start to form between them and making you groan when you realised you’d probably have to rub one out when you got back later. It was honestly annoying the amount of times you came by your own hand, his name on your lips, because you knew how much better it would feel if it was his thick fingers pushing into you, his big hands palming your breasts, his strong arms holding you down as he made you come over and over…
“Let’s get goin’.” He says suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts as he tucks his gun away and slings his backpack on.
You push yourself off of the wall and follow him quickly, trying not to look flustered although you very much felt it.
He came to an abrupt stop when you reached your normal exit from this little pitstop en route to the guys who gave you weapons, and you almost walked face-first into his back.
“Joel? Wha-” you began, but he cut you off.
“This shouldn’t be closed.” He murmurs, like he’s talking to himself, not allowing you any time to respond before he’s going over to pull the chain which should open the garage door.
It doesn’t.
No matter how much he pulls on the metal, grunting and groaning and making your eyes flutter shut whilst you force your needy whimpers down with the noises he’s making, it barely opens, slamming shut every time he gets close to getting it open a quarter of the way.
“Fuck.” He grits, giving up and slamming his hand against the thing. It would be no use trying with that door anymore, the noise it was making was getting too loud anyway.
He stands there, clearly thinking hard about what to do. You can’t turn back because that would just lead you straight back to the QZ, which was useless to you right now, but you don’t have any other secured ways to get to your vendors - how could he have been so stupid to not plan ahead, he ridicules himself silently.
“Joel? What’s the plan?” You ask, getting slightly impatient with his constant silence. He may have been this hot brooding older man, but he could really leave you in the dark sometimes like this.
“Will you let me think, goddamnit?” He responds, clearly annoyed with your current predicament, scratching at his jaw before looking back up at you.
“Could try that window.” You suggest quietly, looking upwards. It was high and small, but you’d be able to get through it if he gave you a boost up.
He gave you a small nod before you both made your way up there and he got into position, hands outstretched and placed together as you got on and pushed yourself up. Normally, whenever he did this, you’d feel all dizzy afterwards from the proximity and his touch - but as soon as you looked out the window you were horrified. There were infected, just past the jammed door - and a whole lot of them. You weren’t getting past that. Forget the deal, you’d come back another day.
“Joel.” You say, not even realising you were whispering. He doesn’t answer.
“Joel! Joel, get me down.” You whisper-shout, and he furrows his brows.
“Why? What’s the matter?” He asks, and you have to fight against the urge to roll your eyes.
“Just get me down.” You say through clenched teeth, taking another look outside the window before he carefully lowers you. Of course, he boosts you up regularly, but he rarely ever tries to get you back down, so you stumble a bit and end up with your face against his chest as he falls back onto the wall slightly.
“Jesus, woman!” He grunts, but you don’t even try to move, you just look up at him with those fucking doe eyes of yours and it takes everything in him to not groan at the sight of you. God knows how many times he’s imagined you looking up at him whilst you sucked his cock, knelt on the floor with tears in your eyes and your hair all messy for him with your big eyes staring into his.
You open your mouth to speak, before realising the position you’re in and quickly standing up.
“I- there were infected outside, Joel.” You explain after a moment.
“So?” He questions you, squinting in confusion slightly. You’ve taken down infected before, no problem. What’s the issue today?
“No, like- I swear it looked like there were a hundred of them. Just this big fucking horde, right outside the garage door.” You gestured back towards the exit.
He clenched his jaw. Yeah, okay, you could take down some infected, not a hundred.
“Y’sure?”
“I’m fucking sure, Joel!” You almost yelled, way too many emotions going on in your body for you to act normal right now.
“Alright, alright, calm down.” He looked back outside. It was almost dark, there was no way you could get back to Boston in time now. It just wasn’t safe to go that far so late, and there was no point since you’d have to sneak by all the guards - who hopefully wouldn’t notice if you were gone for one night - to get back in.
“Go check all the doors, lock ‘em and then barricade ‘em. We’re gonna have to hold up here for tonight, then go back at dawn.” He decides, and you gape at him like a fish.
“We’re staying here?! Joel, what about curfew and the- the fucking infected right outside-” you start, but he silences you once again.
“We’re gonna be fine. When have things ever gone wrong for us since you started comin’ out with me?” He questions sternly, and you ponder it.
Never, really. He always saved you, and you’d save him when he needed it - even though it was only a handful of times he did.
“‘Kay, fine. Whatever.” You mumble stubbornly before turning round to go secure the doors leading to the small mechanic store you’d be staying in.
He looks around himself for any openings and closes them up before you both end up back in the main room.
It’s mostly silent as you look around at different things, poking at the ruined cars and whatnot whilst he sits on a crate and watches you as discreetly as possible.
“I have a question.” You say, turning to face him and making him snap his head away from you before you notice he was looking at you already.
He grunts to tell you to continue speaking, looking back at you when you do.
“Could you like.. show me how to fix up my guns and stuff? ‘Cause you always do it for me and I just thought it was.. Cool.” you murmur, trailing off at the end.
He actually lets out a small laugh at that. Not in a mean way, necessarily, just kind of teasingly.
“Cool?” He repeats with raised eyebrows.
“Yeah, cool. It just- with all the attachments and shit. And I can never clean them properly.” You sigh, walking up closer to him. “Please? We’ve got nothing else to do.”
The sound of you saying please for him in that small voice wins him over. “Fine.” He gets up off the crate, walking back over to the workbench and flicking the light on before taking your gun from you. He talks you through it, shows you a little how to clean it before letting you try it yourself, and then he shows you how to add a scope to it. You can’t quite grasp it though, not being strong and precise enough to attach it properly, so he places his hands on top of yours and helps you screw it on.
The contact makes you shudder so violently that he definitely felt it, and you want to crumple into the ground.
“What was that for?” He murmurs, and you almost jump at how close he is now, voice loud and breath hot on the side of your face as he leans over your shoulder to look at the gun whilst he tries to help you.
“No-nothing.” You squeak, breathing at least ten times faster now.
He feels it. He knows. He has to know, you’d been so stupid and revealed it all now. Joel Miller was not an idiot and he knew how you felt and he’d hate you for it. Your thoughts spiralled.
“Nothin’, huh?” He taunts, a smirk pulling at his lips as he watches you slowly crumble. To make it worse, he turns you in his hold, so you’re pinned with your back to the desk and his hands on either side of you.
“Y’alright, darlin’? You look awfully hot. Don’t got a fever or nothin’?” He mumbles, seeing how far he can push you as he leans in closer.
“I-I’m fine.” You say quietly, mesmerised by the sight of his face so close as you notice little details you’d never noticed before, barely even realising his lips are so close to your own until he’s pressing them to yours.
You make a slight noise of surprise before you get lost in it. The feeling of his lips against yours was something you’d dreamed about for so long, and now it was finally happening.
Your hands come up and around his neck, pulling him closer towards you as he deepens the kiss, forcing his tongue inside your mouth and overpowering you immediately as he pushes you back onto the workbench, sitting you on top of it and already working open the buttons of your jeans.
He kisses you one more time before getting to his knees and pulling your pants completely off, eyeing your panties, a dark patch in the middle of them from your growing arousal.
“Joel, please.” You whimper from above him as his hands run up your legs, coming to your inner thighs before toying with the elastic of your panties.
“Y’need me here, darlin’?” He asks, smirking up at you as his fingers move to rub slow circles into your clit through the fabric.
“Fuck!” You gasp at the contact, needy and desperate for him by this point. “Yes, please- please Joel.” You’re reduced to begging already, something you figure only he had the power to make you do.
He shushes you gently, fingers slowly peeling your panties down and groaning at the sight of your bare cunt, dripping and pulsing with need.
“Fuck, baby. Such a pretty pussy, so fuckin’ wet. This all for me?” He hums, dragging a finger up and down your slit, gathering your wetness on it and sucking it into his mouth as he looks up at you.
You whine at the sight of him between your legs like this, not knowing how you’re going to survive when he actually makes contact with you, and nod furiously.
“Yes, oh my god. Yes, it’s all for you Joel.” You say quickly, and he seems satisfied with that answer, finally moving his face to your core and making you squirm as his hot breath fans over your pussy.
“Stop fuckin’ movin’.” He murmurs, seemingly enraptured by the sight of you, staring for a few seconds and making you want to shift away again under his intense gaze, but he has an arm on you to make sure you don’t move.
And then he finally, finally, licks a long stripe up your pussy, tongue running along your wet folds. And you fucking lose it.
“Oh my god, Joel, please. Fuck- fuck, please, more-” you start begging, moaning loudly as he picks up the pace and continues to devour you, drinking down your wetness, and eventually kissing and sucking at your clit. His fingers, those thick gorgeous fingers you’d dreamed of for so long, tease your entrance before he’s pushing those inside, making you wail at the feeling of something inside of you, getting you closer to that release you were aching for by this point.
“Fuck, yes!” You cry out, thighs shaking slightly as you feel yourself getting close.
“That’s right, baby. You like that?” He asks, voice an octave lower as he pumps his fingers in and out of your tight heat, tongue still working you over relentlessly.
“Please- it feels so good-” you whine in response, fingers grasping for something to hold onto, to tether yourself to earth with as you feel yourself start to float away. Finding his hair and tugging slightly which makes him groan.
“Good girl.” He praises, adding another finger. He curls his fingers, searching for your g-spot and finding it easily.
You moan weakly at the praise, hips bucking as you grind yourself against his mouth, the ridge of his nose stimulating your clit perfectly as your fingers pull at his hair, and before you know it, you’re coming with a hoarse scream of his name.
You see white as your thighs quiver around his head, tensing and squeezing slightly as he continues to work you through it, lapping at your juices until you cry out from the overstimulation.
He removes his fingers from your hole, licking them clean once more before standing up and removing his own clothes, revealing his hard cock and making your eyes widen slightly.
Of course he was big, you’d stared at the bulge of his jeans enough times to realise that, and you’d imagined it before, but it all paled in comparison to finally seeing it.
He was long, slightly curved, girthy with a flushed red tip which had precome leaking out of it as he pumped himself slowly with a smirk on his face.
“Cat got your tongue, pretty girl?” He hums teasingly, and you can’t even think straight anymore, just pulling him forward and kissing him hungrily as he positioned his cock at your slick entrance.
Needy little whines and whimpers flowed freely from your mouth straight into his, where he swallowed them whole before starting to push into you.
You part from the kiss suddenly, gasping as he pushes deeper and deeper, stretching you thoroughly, and you feel grateful that he has the decency to start off slow since you already feel like crying from how big he is, how fucking good it feels.
When he bottoms out, you’re already wrecked. He’s huge inside of you, and you can feel everything. Every single ridge, vein, and twitch of his pulsing cock as your walls hug him tightly.
“Y’okay?” He murmurs softly, making your heart swell at how tender he sounds right now, and you nod in response.
“Joel.. please move.” You whisper, and he complies, grabbing your hips and barely giving you a moment to think before he’s starting to pound into you, making you squeal as your arms came around his neck, nails digging into his back before his head ducks down into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking at your pulse point and making you clench harder around him, before moving down to your breasts, palming them and taking one of your nipples into his mouth as you scream his name.
“Joel! I’m gonna- gonna come- oh god, please!” You cry out, back arching. He growls, picking up the pace. He could feel his orgasm building, but he needed you to come first, needed to feel your tight walls clenching and gushing around him before he even considered his own pleasure.
“Come on, baby. Give me one more and I’ll fill you up. Fuck this little cunt full of me.. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He says, voice low and husky as his balls slap against your ass, the loud sound of your wetness filling the room as you start to tremble once more.
“Yes! Fuck, Joel. Need it so bad. Want your come inside of me. Please, Joel.” You gasp, making him groan as his fingers move down to rub at your clit.
“Come for me, baby.” He encourages, speeding up even more and hitting that spot inside of you that makes you see stars, making you scream as you come and dissolve into a shaking, whimpering mess whilst he continues to thrust into you.
“That’s it, darlin’. Come all over my cock.” He grunts, his own release approaching quickly. The sounds of your moans and cries are enough to set him off, barely thrusting a few more times before stilling and filling you with his hot seed, slowly fucking it even deeper inside of you before pulling out and looking at you.
Skin flushed, panting heavily, come leaking down your thighs. You looked perfect. He wished that cameras were still around so he could take a picture of how you looked right now, keep it in his pocket wherever he went. But he couldn’t, and he realised you probably needed cleaning up now as your hazy eyes blinked open and looked at him. You were quiet, thinking about what this meant for the two of you now. Would he go back to being the cold man you knew? Would he be even colder? Would he suddenly be attentive and caring towards you?
You supposed you got your answer when he gently cupped your face, thumb stroking your cheek as he looked at you with something scarily close to love in his eyes, the gaze he’d somehow managed to conceal from you all these months which he could now finally show you.
“You okay?” He murmurs, and you nod weakly in response. He hums, giving you another small kiss before walking off to go get a rag to clean you up with.
“Hold on, let me just..” he mumbles to himself as he goes to try clean off any dust from the rag, before returning to between your thighs and cleaning away any evidence of your previous activities, tossing the rag somewhere and handing you your clothes. You get dressed quietly before he takes your hand and leads you over to a space on the floor where you set up your sleeping bags, putting them as close together as possible until he eventually just lets you tuck yourself into his, wrapping his strong arms around you from behind and falling asleep.
You listen to his soft snores, feel his calloused hands on your stomach where they snaked under your shirt before he fell asleep, and smile to yourself softly before falling asleep with him.
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Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and my requests are open 💞
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remuslupinslittleslut · 7 months
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No, like this
Anon asked: I need more of the teach me dynamic like that was so hot. The way Remus helped Sirius ate you out using his hair holy fuck that was hot. maybe it’s like Remus gets jealous cause it’s close to the full moon so he shows the boys how to properly fuck a girl and it’s super rough maybe and then James and Sirius are just there jerking off like super turned on by the scene cause wow Remus is really good at making reader be loud.
And YES! I love this dynamic and this ask was so very lovely and gave me so much inspiration THANK YOU BABE <333
Here's a very jelly remus, pre full moon, showing his friends how to fuck his girl hot damn
Masterlist. (Teach us part one. And part two. Though it can easily be read on it's own, just the same dynamics <3)
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“No, you’re doing it all wrong,” Remus growled.
You were laid out on your back, James on top of you, hips moving against yours at a steady rhythm. It was good, really good. But the full moon was getting closer, and Remus was aggravated, jealous and very territorial of you.
James whined at the harsh words, and you kissed his nose telling him, “You’re doing well darling, keep going.”
He did, though not quite as confidently as before. His head came down to rest in the crook of your neck, and you felt his cheeks were heated from embarrassment. You and Remus had taught both James and Sirius a lot since your first night together, and they’d both made great progress, all the while Remus was perfectly okay with sharing you – as you also did share him with his friends.
James had just started to get it right with each thrust again – making you moan and whine, telling him what a good boy he was being – when Remus interrupted yet again.
“No, move,” he said, standing up and pushing James off of you, making all three of you gasp (Sirius wouldn’t miss this show for anything in the world), “let me show you how to fuck her properly.”
It was, to put it plainly, rude. You would have to talk to Remus about it later, that he can’t act that way with your littles, but he was so sexy, towering above you, hands tugging at his buckle, trying to free himself for you. You knew what was to come would be life changing-ly amazing, and you did not want to get in the way of Moony when he was tearing at the seams of Remus like this.
Remus was finally naked, standing next to the bed, where James still lay, “I said move.” James did, shying away, trudging toward Sirius’ bed.
“Arms above your head, darling,” he said, steadying his body above yours. You did as you were told, knowing not to argue at this moment. “See, you’ve gotta tell a slut what to do, she’s too dumb to think on her own.” This wasn’t really true – though you loved letting go of all your common sense to let Remus take full control, so you did.
He didn’t give any warning before he pushed himself into you, widening your tight little hole, taking your body from you. “Little sluts like this don’t need to be warmed up, she can take it, right love?” You nodded, knowing you hadn’t been given permission to speak.
His hips snapped against yours at a brutal pace, it almost hurt, you knew it would later, but the way the head of him pushed against your walls felt too good. While he was fucking you, he kept narrating the whole thing, “yeah, that’s right, touch your little cocks to my girl, hear that? My girl. You’ve gotta move faster, harder, like this.”
It was so hot, having your life fucked out of you by your boyfriend while your other two partners watched, touching themselves. You could finally show them the Remus you knew, the Remus who could make sure you didn’t walk straight for days – he’d been so nice and soft since you invited James and Sirius, but now he was back, with his back-arching, toe-curling, orgasm-giving sex.
You hadn’t been quiet for a while, and when your orgasm washed over you, the sounds coming from somewhere deep in your throat only got louder. “There you go, see this, this’s how you make a girl come.”
Pulling out of you, Remus kissed you once, deep and hard and dirty, before he flipped you over, pulling on your hips to make your ass stick out. Leaning down over you, he kissed down the back of your neck, biting and pulling at the skin, hard teeth scratching soft skin. “You ready, little one?” He asked, almost softly, and when you nodded your head he pulled back and pushed in, in one sweeping motion. The angle from this position was even better and you felt your eyes roll back as you dropped your head against the pillow, feeling another orgasm come creeping.
Holding himself up with one hand on the headboard, the other kept a tight hold on your hair. “Now this is how you fuck a girl real good, she won’t be able to think straight when I’m done with her, shame you’ll never be this good,” the cockiness could be heard in Remus’ voice as his hips kept pushing against yours, your ass shaking with every thrust. “Go on then, come, all over your hands from watching my girl take my cock, go ahead… You too, princess, go ahead, let go f’me…”
Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered some grunting from the other bed, though most of your senses were filled with Remus, the wet sound of him thrusting in and out of you, the smell of him on the pillow, of both of your juices mixing somewhere further down on the bed, the taste of him left on your tongue, the sight of a veiny arm holding him up, the feeling of him all over you, against your back, the hands in your hair, his cock inside you, pulsating and ejaculating, filling you up with white, hot spurts of cum, the feeling of it running out of you, the wet patch on the bed between your legs.
And then… nothing.
When you woke up, it was to a hot, wet rag on your face. “Hi, love,” Remus said, kissing your forehead, hand holding your cheek still. “Welcome back, you went out for a bit, but don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you now, okay baby?”
Smiling, you reached your hands up – not a small feat, considering your arms felt like boiled spaghetti – and took a hold of his face to pull him back down to you, pressing your lips against his.
“And now this is how you perform proper aftercare, don’t ever skip that,” he said, a pointed look directed at his friends, who he was about to treat with some of the same love that you’d received.
Tagged: @remussbitch
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samkerrworshipper · 2 months
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rockin’ around the christmas tree
alexia putellas x reader, alexia putellas x putellas!child x reader
fun fact my least favourite holiday is christmas and i don’t really celebrate it at all! but the request i got for this was so cute so i pushed down my inner grinch because i just had to! i’m sorry to any spanish people who don’t celebrate christmas this way lol i tried my best xo
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Growing up, christmas had looked a lot different for you then for most kids. 
You didn’t grow up in a house were Christmas was really celebrated, most of the time, your parents worked through the day, and you’d be left home alone with you older brother. 
On the good years, you’d get a present, but most years all the money that could have been christmas presents was put into the football budget, or into buying you a second hand pair of boots so that you didn’t have to play through the winter with holes in your shoes. 
You never really minded, you didn’t grow up in a family where christmas was something your parents could afford, and you’d come to terms with that, it was more important that there was food on the table and money available for football fees then christmas trees or gifts. 
That’s why you struggled with it all. 
Alexia had grown up in a house where Christmas was everything you could have ever wanted, christmas lights, dinner with the family, as many presents as she asked for, a big tree, everything traditional that made the holiday everything it was made up to be. 
Alexia had been the first person to show you what Christmas could look like, your first christmas together had been an.. experience. 
When your girlfriend of six months at the time had found out that your plans for christmas included staying in your apartment and watching whatever crappy christmas movie re-runs that the television was showing she’d been distraught. It had taken a lot of you reasoning with her to explain why you didn’t feel the need to celebrate as extravagantly as other people. You were happy to spend the day in, happy to have a day of piece and solace.
Alexia refused to accept that, so you’d been dragged along to her christmas morning with Alba, then her christmas lunch with her cousins and extended family and finally dinner with Eli and the closer family. 
It had been more activities and festivities in a day then you’d experienced in your whole life of christmas’, and that night when you’d inevitably ended up at Alexia’s house you’d broken down. 
Christmas for you had always just been another day, but your day spent with Alexia had made you feel more loved then you ever had before. 
Christmas was supposed to be a happy day, but that night, all you’d done was sob. You didn’t blame your parents for your missed experiences, they did the best that they could at the time. But you mourned the bit of your childhood that you’d so clearly missed out on. You were overwhelmed beyond any words being able to describe it, you didn’t understand how some families got this, and yet others didn’t. Alexia was so incredibly blessed and she had no idea about it.
Even eight years later, you weren’t the best with christmas. 
Just because you’d become accustomed to what christmas in Alexia’s world looked like didn’t mean that it came easy to you. 
Alexia loved christmas, she looked forward to it every year, if you were to harbor a guess you’d say it was probably her favourite holiday of them all. 
You didn’t hold the same sentiment, you didn’t have years of positive childhood christmas memories, and even after your experiences with the Putellas it didn’t overshadow your deeply innedeed desire to spend christmas under the covers of a bed.
Every christmas was spent similarly for the Putellas’, Alexia waking up at 5am, full of energy, dragging you straight out of bed. Once dragged out of bed, you’d get thrown down onto the living room floor, coffe thrusted in your hand before the annual present unwrapping. 
Alba normally rocked up around 6am, depending on her circumstances, with or without a partner. From then the apartment living room floor turned into a pile of gift wrapping paper as the two Putella’s sisters unwrapped present after present like six year olds. 
You’d never been big on the present thing, you enjoyed watching the two sisters and their animated reactions to every single gift that they received, you preferred to sit back and discreetly open the gifts that were thrown your way. 
After the great present opening, it then transitioned into a big breakfast that made you nauseous and bloated and semi-uncomfortable.
Christmas tradition to Alexia was like a law, there wasn’t any changing it. 
You’d thought that once you’d started to form a family together that maybe things would change a little bit, that maybe Alexia would relax and mellow out, that all of the fuss and festiveness would subside a little bit, but you were so wrong. If anything, it only got more intense.
Lili was four, and it was the first year that she’d started to catch onto what Christmas was, and Alexia was giddy about it. She’d spent the whole months of November and December getting your daughter as excited and understanding of the ‘magnitude’ of what event was coming up. 
Christmas for the putellas’ household started on december first, everything leading up to the big christmas eve dinner on the 24th. 
Lili had already been excited, but spending the night beforehand with all of her older cousins, unwrapping smaller presents and sitting around the table hearing stories from Eli hadn’t been any help. 
You were less than enthuasiatstic about it all, but this year you had an excuse to sit back and relax, and that came in the form of your 2 month old baby, Emi. 
Emi was also a good enough reason to dip out of the celebrations a little bit early, when Emi started to get fussy and hungry for her night time feed you decided it was time to call it and one-handedly dragged your wife and her mini-me out of Eli’s house, with the promise that you’d make sure the two of them got enough sleep so that they were functional by tomorrow. 
The two pouted the whole way home, and it truly added a whole new layer to the whole mini alexia persona that Lili had adopted. 
She was a carbon copy of Alexia, always begging to be dragged along to football training, she had the same little focused scowl that Alexia had when she was focusing, she watched football on the television with the same amount of intensity that Alexia did, all of her mannerisms, all of her values, all of her little details were all Alexia’s. 
You were still holding out bits of hope that Emi would be a little bit more like you, but you were also well aware that if she was anything like her sister then it was a losing battle. 
You tasked Alexia with getting your hyped up older daughter to sleep, whilst you dealt with a fussy Emi who was overtired and refusing to go to sleep. 
“C’mon Emi, you’re fed, you’re changed, you’re tired, you’ve got a comfy bassinet and yet you won’t go to sleep.”
You looked down at your daughter, who had tears running down her face below you in her bassinet, sucking furiously on her dummy like she was trying to prove something to you. 
You weren’t quite sure what was worse, a four year old who was riding on a christmas fueled energy high, or a baby who was so determined to stay awake even though she was absolutely exhausted. 
With Lili, at least you knew that once she’d been bathed and put to bed that a few stories would put her straight to sleep, it was just the process of getting her into bed that was a struggle. Emi however, was a complete mystery. 
Some nights, all she needed was a big feed of milk and she went out like a light, other nights, she would stay awake just for the sake of it. 
It was like she could sense the excitement bouncing off of her mama and sister and decided that she too was destined to make your christmas as long as possible. 
By the time Alexia trailed in, you were just bouncing Emi off to sleep, unsure about how you were going to transfer her from your arms to her bassinet. 
Alexia crawled into your shared bed, watching you with adoration as you gentled paced the rug at the end of your bed, rocking Emi with you. 
“You’re so good with her.”
Emi at least, was an easier baby then Lili had been. Lili had almost been reason enough for you to leave it at one child, the first couple months of her life had been hell, but then the toddler phase came and you and Alexia had both fallen in love with the idea of having a little friend for Lili to run about with. So, the rounds of IVF had come again, and after a miscarriage and failed treatment, the two of you were met with little Emi. 
It was hard juggling a four year old with far too much energy for one child, but the two of you had made it work. 
“I’m just doing my job.”
Motherhood had become a job for you, football wasn’t your passion so much anymore, you were unofficially retired and you were happy that way, you’d won all the accolades you needed, you had a family now that was coming first. 
“You’re the best mother, you couldn’t do much more for them.”
You smiled at Alexia, it made you blush in a way like no other when anyone commented on your parenting, it was good to know you were a good person, but to know that you were a good mother, it was something else. 
You finally managed to push Emi into enough of a lull that when you placed her down in her bassinet she fussed a little bit before finally falling into a proper sleep. 
Once you were sure she was out, you crawled into bed beside Alexia, allowing her to wrap her body around yours. 
“Is there any chance I can convince you to stay in bed any time past 6?”
Alexia snorted, her head finding homage in the corner of your neck. 
“Lili has permission to be out of bed from 5am onwards, so have fun trying to control that.”
You groaned. 
“The presents will still be there, when the sun has risen, why do we need to be out of bed so early?”
Alexia reached over to the bedside lamp that was still on, flicking it off and relaxing into the pillows. 
“Alba will be here at 5.30, technically, you can stay in bed as long as you like.”
You rolled your eyes. 
“And miss out on you acting shocked at the presents you bought for our daughter and for yourself? How could I do that to myself?”
Alexia pinched your side. 
“No, santa brought the presents and I will act shocked when i see what Santa has brought this year, as will you.”
You pinched Alexia back, smirking as she winced. 
“I told you that you didn’t need to buy me anything, Alexia.”
You managed to block Alexia’s attempt at retaliation, smirking to yourself. 
“No, my name is baby, love, honey or sweet, not Alexia. Asking me to not buy you presents is like asking me to not love you, it’s simply not possible. Also, what kind of impression am I setting for lili and emi if they think that it is acceptable to not shower everyone around them in presents on the best day of the year.”
Alexia sounded proud of herself for that statement, like she’d made a real point. 
“You’d be setting an example that love isn’t tangible and you can love someone without pushing gifts down their throats.”
Alexia’s arms wrapped around your stomach, pulling you directly against her. 
“You don’t have to open them if you don’t want to, we can keep them for your birthday, or for mothers day, or for our anniversary. I know it’s a hard day for you, if you don’t want to be apart of it all then that’s okay. We’ll work it out okay, I can try to keep lili at bay for a little bit longer if you watnt a sleep in.”
You shook your head, what Alexia was offering was nice, but it was one day a year, Alexia’s favourite day, and you were willing to make compromises if that was required. 
“You know how much I love you, right?”
Alexia smiled into your neck, a big corny smile. 
“Love me enough to wake up at five am?” You rolled your eyes, flipping down onto your pillow. 
“You’re making breakfast, and you’re putting Lili down for a midday nap when she inevitably needs one, and Alba can deal with her other niece when she gets fussy from her sleep schedule being messed with, I want a day of relaxation, okay?”
Alexia wasn’t kidding about the five am thing, you’d just managed to get Emi back down after her early feed, when your daughter dragged herself through the door of Alexia and yours’ room. 
She looked more exhausted then excited, something that you were happy about. 
“Feliz Navidad, mommy.”
You smiled at your daughter, patting down on the bedding between Alexia and you, making room for your daughter to snuggle up between the two of you. 
It was far to early for your liking, and you were happy to cuddle with Lili if it meant you could have another hour or so of sleep. 
“Feliz Navidad, sweetheart.”
She wormed her way underneath your covers, immediately throwing her arms around your body. 
“Present time?”
You shook your head, bring your daughter close to you. 
“Not yet sweetheart, you mami will wake you up when it’s time, okay?”
It was like at 5am Alexia’s internal body clock went off, both her and your daughter jolting up together like they’d been struck by lightning. 
“Mommy, it’s time to wake up, it’s christmas.”
Lili’s voice was less of a whisper then it had been when she’d crawled into your bed, and you weren’t all that surprised when seconds later Emi was crying, like she knew exactly what was supposed to happen. 
“Sweetheart, go downstairs with your mami, I’ll come down in a minute.”
You were happy to get Lili and Alexia out, leaving you in a semi-tranquil room, besides Emi who was now softly whining beside you. 
You reached over into her bassinet, lifting her up and out, happy enough when she settled in your arms. 
You figured it was a smarter idea to feed her now, then staving it off and having a grumpy baby in a couple of hours. 
So you enjoyed some peace as you nursed Emi, it was a nicer way to wake up and adjust to the reality of what your day was going to look like. 
Once Emi was done you threw on a robe and your slippers, before slipping down the stairs of your house and slowly making your way into the living room. 
You could hear what was going on before you saw it, the sounds of your daughter squealing and Alexia making similar noises. 
It was Lili, Alexia and Alba, all crowded around the christmas tree that Alexia had insisted had to be from the same farm Eli had been getting trees from for years, all three of them with their own piles of wrapping paper at their feet. 
It was a sweet sight, one that struck on your heart strings and made you so incredibly grateful. 
The amount of excitement one Lili’s face made it all worth it, how happy she was. 
“Ah, their is my other favourite niece, come, let me have her, sit down, put your feet up. Emi can help me with the pancakes.”
You accepted a hug from Alba, and happily handed of Emi to her, taking a seat down on your couch, watching as she with practised ease carried your daughter next door to the kitchen. 
“Mama, look at what santa brought me, look at all of the toys.”
You weren’t all that surprised that Lili’s pile had magically grown in stature, probably due to both Alexia and her sister’s insistence that it was child abuse to not overflow a child with presents on Christmas. 
You were even more shocked by the amount of presents that were designated to your newborn baby. 
“Mami, look, a new jersey! With mommy’s name on it, so i can match with you to games!”
The amount of excitement on your daughters face as she turned around to show you the putellas lettering across the back of her blue and red jersey made both you and Alexia weak. You might have been a grinch but there was no denying the amount of pure innocence and joy that was filling your daughter up. She looked impossibly adorabl with her twin braids that Alexia must have done the night before, with her newest addition to her jersey collection layered over the top of her pink flannel set, catching in certain places and the collar not quite aligning. 
“Wow Lil, we get to match now, we’ll have to get a extra one for Emi.”
Alexia smirked at you, alreayd holding up a matching miniature sized version of the same jersey Lili was in, you rolled your eyes, there was one thing your two month old baby didn’t need more of and that was most certainly barca memorabilia. 
“Mami, look, presents for you, and presents for mommy, and presents for auntie Alba.”
You smiled at your daughter, who was pinging with excitement. She pointed frantically between the different piles of parcels, all of which wrapped in seperate colours of papers. Lili’s pile was less wrapped, more strewn across the floor. 
Alexia was responsible for all of the different bits of football gear, whereas you’d stayed more conservative with your choices of clothes, dolls, different zoo animals, small train sets and new books. 
“Wow sweetheart, you really got spoiled, huh?”
You couldn’t help but clutch for your phone, taking a photo of your wife and daughter, who were both looking at eachother with equal amounts of excitement. You were well aware that it was going to be a fight trying to get Lili out of that jersey and into the nice dress you’d picked out for today, but you could compromise with letting her wear it over until photo time came around. 
Alexia looked particularly proud of herself when Lili came running at you, with a handful of gifts, all with your name on them and signed from ‘santa’.
“For you, from mami and santa.”
You smiled at your daughter, who stood in front of you, seemingly waiting for you to open up the gifts. 
You reached for the smallest one first, smiling at a new set of earrings that you knew would quickly become some of your favourites and a matching necklace that had the letters E, L and A on it. 
The jewellery was then followed by a voucher for three months of pilates lessons at your favourite gym, which you were exceptionally grateful for. It wasn’t easy working out after having children, but it was even harder trying to adjust to the new version of your body and Alexia was well aware of how insecure you were feeling, plus pilates was a better transition then pump workouts. 
The next gift was a new set of running shoes, practical but a gift you were more than happy about. Plus, they would be good for your pilates, so you couldn’t really deny the need for them. 
“Alexia, if there is anything alive in this box then I’m going to lose it.”
The fourth parcel was the largest, a big box which contents you were completely uncertain of. Weirdly, Alexia had the tendency to always purchase something for chistmas that the two of you definitely did not need, and that was only going to make your lives harder. Lili had been harping on about wanting a dog, Nala, had unfortunately died when she was too young to remember. She was for whatever reason desperate to fill that hole, and you conceded that once Emi was a little bit older it was definitely a possibility, but not right now.  
You nearly cried when you ripped the packaging open and were met with a brand new set of pans. 
It was a random thing, and definitely not something to cry over, but it was something that you’d been secretly wanting for a while now. 
“Mami, why is mommy crying over new pots and pans.”
Alexia snorted from the other side of the room. 
“Because mommy has been saying naughty words every time she’s been cooking with our other pans and things have been getting stuck to them, so I decided it was time we got some new ones, because it’s not nice to use bad words.”
You rolled your eyes, Alexia was the worst role model for swearing, every time anything small annoyed her. 
“Thank you, it’s a really good gift.”
Alexia smiled at you lopsidedly, pots and pans was her version of the worst christmas gift ever, but seeing your face light up was enough information to know that she’d done good.
“Ah, you’re crying now, and you haven’t even opened my final gift.”
You looked at Alexia sceptically, trying to figure out if this was one of her weird Christmas things. On your first christmas together, she’d brought you a bike, technically she’d bought two bikes, with the intention of the two of you using in the summer. What she hadn’t know, was that you had a slightly irrational fear of riding bikes, and refused to be within 2 metres of the two wheeled beasts. 
Alexia wasn’t a bad gift giver, she was just really good at buying things that she wanted, but forgetting that she person was gifting them to wasn’t necessarily the ideal recipient. 
“Lili, give your mommy the last one for me, yeah?”
Lili smiled at you, big and wide and for a second you worried, that it was going to be something you had to pretend you liked for the sake of not giving Lili a bad example. 
“Mommy said best for last.”
She pulled a present out from nowhere, a small, long one that looked more like a gift card then anything else. 
Good, nohing alive, nothing big or spacious. 
You took a moment to compose yourself before smiling down at your daughter and opening the final one. 
If you’d been crying before, then this gift had you close to sobbing. 
“Mommy says that you deserve time off, just the two of you, so I’m going to stay with abuela and auntie alba for a few days with Emi and you two are going to have some alone time.”
You bit down on your lip, looking up at Alexia, waiting for the catch. 
“Just you and me?”
Alexia nodded, a big smile playing on her lips as she looked at you from across the room. 
“Just you and me, three nights in italy, your favourite.”
You werw willing yourself to not cry, but when Lili jumped into your arms, followed quickly by Alexia you couldn’t help yourself. 
“Feliz Navidad, my love.”
You reached up to press your lips to Alexia’s ignoring the fake vomiting noises that your daughter was making, undoubtedly that she’d learnt from spending to much time with her auntie. 
It was peaceful, it was wonderfully perfect and nothing that you would have imagined for this christmas to look like. 
“Ale, I think the pancakes are burning, or the toast, or the bacon, something’s burning.”
Alexia snorted and you couldn’t help but join her, the two of you breaking into giggles when the smoke alarm started to scream from the kitchen. 
“Feliz Navidad, baby.”
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six-eyed-samurai · 2 months
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SUMMARY: It's been some time since your death and yet none of the Hashira still have the heart to remind Muichiro you're gone. A/N: I'm not too sure if the title means what I think it means so let me know if it's wrong...anyways I got the idea from a fic of @oceanxmoonz, so credits! Also you can probably tell I got lazy at the end... WARNINGS: (y/n) is dead. That's it.
“Where’s (y/n)?”
Shinobu’s smile was a little faker than before as she turned around to face the expectantly waiting Mist Pillar, who seemed a little upset. She couldn’t answer that quite yet. “Are you looking for them?”
“Yes,” Muichiro said plainly. “I couldn’t find them at all this morning. Or afternoon…have you seen them?”
Was it sadder to watch Muichiro lose his closest friend - if not something more - and grieve about it for a long time after or sadder to watch him forget they were long dead? That they weren’t avoiding him like his amnesia had him think, that they actually couldn’t? He always needed to be reminded and Shinobu didn’t like to be the one to do so.
“Tokito…they died a few months ago, remember?”
“No, they didn’t. Ginko would’ve told me.” His eyes widened, then narrowed angrily. “I don’t think that’s a very funny thing to say, Kocho.”
“But, Tokito-”
“I’ll go find (y/n) myself,” he said abruptly, then walked off.
Of course he came back later with the same question; of course Shinobu’s smile faltered.
***
“…I forgot your name.”
“…”
Muichiro blinked at the stoic Pillar before him. “You’re the…something Hashira, right? I think (y/n) mentioned you. Are they back from both of your mission yet?”
Tomioka hesitated. He was honest but he wasn’t cruel. He knew exactly what Tokito was talking about, knew that he suffered from huge blanks in his memory. He envied the younger Hashira a little, to be able to forget such tragedy - however seeing him constantly wander around wondering where they’d gone was a pitiful sight.
So in the end he decided to evade the question. “Yes. (y/n) came back safely from the mission.”
The Mist Pillar’s eyes lit up. “Thank you. I’ll go find them now.”
Yes, (y/n) came back from their mission together safely. If only the same could be said of the last.
***
“HAR?”
“I said, where’s (y/n)?” Muichiro sighed after his almost shout at the disbelieving Wind Pillar. “Has your mission damaged your ears?”
“You little-” Sanemi checked himself. “I know damn well what it was you said.”
“Okay then, where’s (y/n)? I found this flower I wanted to show them.”
The older man’s mouth fell open, probably to harshly remind Tokito for the fifth time that month that who he was looking for was long dead and gone. Then it closed again.
Sanemi was not a soft man, evidenced by his scars, shouts, and treatment of his younger brother. But at the end of the day his intentions, though misguided, were what he wanted best for everyone. It was a tragic world out there and whether his next words were going to exacerbate it he would accept the consequences whole-heartedly - no one would fault him for not wanting to bring the poor kid back to shattering reality either, right?
“Probably out on another mission. You can’t keep hogging them to yourself, Tokito.”
“That’s odd…I thought they just came back…”
“Yeah, well, demons don’t wait for anyone!” Sanemi barked. Sadly, too true.
***
“Oh, Tokito…!”
“…Kan-something-san?” Muichiro’s face twisted in confusion as the pink-haired lady threw herself at him crying, pulling him into a tight hug.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” Mitsuri straightened and wiped at her face, plastering a bright but trembling smile for the younger Hashira.
Muichiro blinked. “Okay. Have you seen (y/n)? I just got back from a mission but I can’t find them.”
“…perhaps they’re busy?” Mitsuri swept the tears on her cheeks again. “Don’t worry, I don’t think they’d ignore if they had a choice, Tokito!”
“Oh…alright then.” Muichiro drifted off, readily accepting Mitsuri’s story despite the obvious holes for lack of better explanation.
Mitsuri bit her lip, guilty at her lie. Every day Muichiro would approach with the same question and every day someone or some way it would be broken to him that (y/n) was long gone but as terrible as it made her feel Mitsuri never wanted to be the one who did it.
He’d found the love she’d always been searching for. Unfortunate one didn’t survive for long.
***
“Young Tokito! Are you looking for someone?!”
“You’re really loud…” Muichiro tilted his head. “Have you seen (y/n)?”
Tengen and Rengoku shared a look - the Sound Pillar broke the pause first. “Tokito, don’t you remember?”
“Remember what?” Muichiro’s attention span was already running out. “I think I saw them today but I can’t remember where.”
“You couldn’t have seen them,” Tengen starts again, for it’s not the first time the Mist Pillar has mistaken someone else for (y/n). “They’re-”
“Oh, right…at the Butterfly Mansion, I think. Thanks for…helping?” Muichiro left and the two Pillars glanced at each other again.
“Who’s gonna tell him? He can’t keep walking around thinking they’re still alive. That’s just cruel.”
“But if he remembers his spirit will be beyond crushed - you remember how he was when he first found out. For now, when we need to be most vigilant, perhaps we should let him be!”
Rengoku’s voice carried a tremor of uncertainty, however.
***
“I saw Kanroji and you talk a few days ago. Did you make her cry?” Obanai glowered menacingly at the deadpan Mist Pillar.
“No? She was crying?”
“Yes!” Kaburamaru hissed with his owner.
“Oh…right. Now I remember. I didn’t make her cry.” Muichiro looked up. “At least I don’t think so?”
Obanai resisted the urge to slap his hand on his forehead. He leaned in clsoer. “Why was she crying?”
“I have no idea,” Muichiro said, leaning back. He brightened. “Oh, right. I was asking about (y/n).”
“(y/n)?” Obanai stiffened but took a step back. “Oh. I see.”
“Which reminds me…I wanted to go see her after our sparring, but I don’t know where they are.”
The Serpent Pillar and his snake shifted uncomfortably. “You’ll find them.”
Not really. Obanai hoped for the sake of his comrade that he’d forget he’d already asked the question and not stumble upon (y/n)’s grave.
***
Himejima too cried.
It didn’t really make sense to Muichiro, but he let the oldest Hashira lay a hand on his shoulder and say some prayers. He didn’t really pay attention to the wording but he caught his name and (y/n)’s.
It was safe to assume the Stone Hashira didn’t know where they were so Muichiro bid him goodbye (or at least he thought he did) and set off to go find them himself. From behind the trees one Shinazugawa Genya watched him go before joining his master’s side.
“Why isn’t anyone telling him?” Genya couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose someone so close to you, someone to love and care for, and not even remember when they were no longer there.
“Some things must be found out by himself.”
“Isn’t it unfair to (y/n)’s memory if Tokito doesn’t remember?”
“I’m sure (y/n) will understand…they were very patient with him. They will understand that he needs to take his own time in coming into terms with…”
“Coming into terms?” Genya’s frown deepened. “You mean it’s not just his memory thing?”
“Grief and denial are strange things.”
***
“Where are you, (y/n)?”
Muichiro knelt down by the headstone, dropping the bouquet next to him. “I hope you’re happy, wherever you are. I’m sorry I forgot about you for so long.”
He takes a deep breath and begins to tell about his day, like he’s been doing every day ever since he regained his memories after that fateful fight at the Swordsmith Village and befriending Tanjiro. He thinks they’d like this version of him much more.
“The demons have been awfully quiet lately,” Muichiro mused. “They say Kibutsuji’s planning something. They’re probably all out to get Nezuko. A big all out war’s going to be coming, I think, and I’m sorry I won’t be able to visit when that happens. So I’ll come more often now.”
He dusted off the stone, staring sadly at the inscription. “I’ll kill the demon who got you. I promise.”
At the price of his own life, (y/n) knew, sitting invisibly next to him, crying transparent tears but he wasn’t to know that.
579 notes · View notes
satosugusandwich · 9 months
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His Angel and His Brat
Part 1!!! Part 2
Hard!Dom!Geto x Brat!Gojo x obedient!afab!reader
(I also try to write my fics to be racially ambiguous! No mention of skin tone or hair type!)
Summary: Gojo is a mega-brat to y/n and Suguru and likes to push buttons cuz he can so Suguru decides to overstimulate Gojo until he thinks he’s broken. (Key word: thinks.) To add to Gojo’s humiliation, he ensures that the reader is getting princess treatment while watching Gojo suffer endlessly. But, of course, things don’t always go as planned with Satoru Gojo.
CW and whatnots: Overstimulation, vibrators, cuffs, finger sucking, condescending!geto, usage of the word “cock”, gojo’s boundless stamina and cocky attitude, anal play, cum licking (off the floor and gojos pp) praise, cocksucking, angel ass reader that ends up in trouble cuz gojo can’t shut his mouth, geto is actually so mean to gojo but so soft cuz he’s actually a teddy bear dw. Use of “brat, princess, angel.” There will be aftercare in future parts cuz imagine leaving pathetic satoru a cum drenched mess. Poor baby. :(((
There will be additional tags in future parts. This is how I cope with ch 236.
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Suguru runs his thumb along your bottom lip, licking his own lips while you whimper. Your pretty eyes fixated on his blushing face and half-lidded eyes. He looks at you with so much lust and is so gentle with you, just so in love with how much you please him and how willing you are to do what he wants. You eagerly await him and his orders, always ready to obey.
But.
“Suguru!”
Satoru’s cry makes his face go from pure admiration to utterly sadistic. “Satoru.” He says, looking at the man to the right of you, the same man that’s panting and whining as the vibrator in his tight hole runs relentlessly. “Jealously doesn’t look very good on you.” He grins and hits a button on the small remote he holds in his hand that isn’t occupied with your mouth.
“Fuck—FUCK!” Satoru’s eyes clench shut, the whirring sound coming from his bottom getting faster and bit more high pitched. You’re grateful you aren’t in his position, you don’t know if you could handle Suguru having full control of how much pleasure you get to feel. Especially if that pleasure is ongoing… and nonstop.
Satoru looked unusually pathetic and… weak. It’s insane to think that the so called strongest sorcerer, the cocky, the arrogant, the man on top, bends to the will of his pretty best friend. Suguru’s change in character comes as a shock too. The sweet, soft-spoken, gentle, and empathetic sorcerer is now grinning down at his partner, showing no mercy, no kindness, and is only sending Satoru into deeper throes of overwhelming pleasure. You almost didn’t want to look at Satoru, what if Suguru surmised you wanted the same treatment. Would he show you mercy?
“Now, now,” Suguru muses, “if you can beg me properly, I’ll stop your torment. And of course you’ll need to apologize to Y/n and I for being such an impatient little shit.” He chuckles softly and withdraws his thumb from your mouth. “She’s being so well-behaved while you whine and whine and cry and cry about how much it is.” He mocks him, furrowing his eyebrows together in a false pity. “I suppose I should expect it, after all, you’ve cum how many times? That pressure against—“ Suguru crouches as he speaks “—your prostate—“ he runs the tip of his fingers up Satoru’s base “—it’s been nonstop for 30 minutes now.”
You can’t help but watch as Suguru’s hand starts to stroke Satoru now, giving expert attention to his neglected yet tortured cock. Suguru notices how you eyeball his actions and can’t help but smile wider.
“Ah, do you feel left out?” His false pity changes back to his gentle expression. “It’s alright, princess, why don’t you show Satoru how impressed you are with his stamina. Give him a little reward?”
Suguru is evil.
“I don’t think he could take it, Sugu.” You answer honestly.
He looks a bit disappointed but he relents his ministrations. “I suppose you’re right. But he still owes us an apology before his punishment ends.”
You nod and meet Satoru’s eyes. He can barely speak as his next orgasm approaches. “I-I’m so—“ his body is shaking. “I’m so sorry! I’ve been so—Suguru—so impatient! Please, I’m so so soo!!! So sorry!” He’s almost in tears now, you can tell Suguru is even beginning to feel pity for his best friend and his brat.
“Ahh… cum one more time and I’ll take it out. Show me you deserve mercy by pleading. Plead for mercy.” Suguru’s fingers tug at your nipples now, clearly losing interest in Satoru’s torment. You know that you aren’t being punished, but seeing Suguru like this… makes you a little weary.
“Please please!” Satoru repeats the word over and over. “I’m so sorry! Please, mercy!” He keeps prattling on, thrusting into the air as he struggles to keep together.
“Y/n.” Suguru looks to you. “Clean up his next mess for me. Lick his cock clean and then it’ll be your turn.”
Satoru starts to mumble and moan out different variations of thank yous and Suguru’s name as he reaches his final high. And when he cums, It’s a mess. Semen spills from his cock and your immediately there to catch it. Suguru’s eyes widen, absolutely loving your eagerness to take his cum down your throat.
“Good boy, good girl.” He pets your head and clicks the toy off, causing Satoru’s to collapse completely, his body weight bearing into the now standing legs of Suguru. He catches his breath, still whimpering as Suguru pets his head. Satoru looks you in the eyes, his beauty keeping your gaze fixated on his body. His six eyes are a little red, probably from the tears that he held back, and his body is flushed beautifully, his pretty cock slowly going soft as he does his best to calm down.
Satoru relaxes back on his knees while Suguru goes behind him to remove the toy from his ass and undo Satoru’s hand cuffs. You breathe a sigh of relief for him, always impressed by Satoru’s unwavering stamina and attitude. You wondered how Satoru enjoyed pissing Geto off so much, does he really enjoy these punishments that much? Suguru seemingly loves the after effects of a good punishment, his adoration of Satoru is evident in the way he kisses his head and gently rubs his back while Satoru regains his strength.
As much as you love watching, you are wondering why Suguru invited you to observe Satoru’s punishment. You’re not really complaining and it definitely isn’t the first time you’ve seen it, but, all you’ve had is a thumb in your mouth and a little bit of cocksucking. After all, Suguru can’t ever stay entirely focused on Satoru, he needs some pleasure himself.
Satoru seems to be wondering the same thing. “So, baby, why did you bring her in to watch?” He asks, rising from his knees to give them a break.
Suguru looks down at you. “Just on a whim.” He strokes your face before looking back toward his brat. “And I’ve noticed you get more worked up with an arousing audience.”
“Well, wouldn’t you if she was licking your cum from the floor?” Satoru grumbled, sitting on the bed.
Suguru turns his attention back toward you. “She does love cum in her mouth.” He strokes himself slowly, catching your attention.
“I want yours next.” You tell him, shifting your weight and sending him a smile.
Satoru watches as you lean forward to lick Suguru’s cock, taking his precum on your tongue. He doubt he could handle anymore cumming, but he certainly loves to see you take cock down your throat. If he had more energy, he’d love to stuff his down as well. “Like it that much, y/n?” He chuckles.
Suguru’s eyes shoot to Satoru. “Jealous again, Satoru?? Well, the question is are you jealous cuz my cock is down her throat or are you jealous cuz it’s not down your throat?”
Satoru sucks his teeth. “I want to watch her take me balls deep.”
Uh oh.
Suguru removes his cock from your mouth. “Satoru,” you start, “I don’t think you have enough energy to keep that attitude up.” Indeed, his stamina is incredible.
Suguru waits to see his reaction.
And of course, the other man grins and only adds fuel to the fire. “Think she’d look better with my cock in her mouth. She’s been paying more attention to me than you anyways.”
“Satoru…” you sigh and in seconds Suguru has him pressed back into the bed and is beckoning for you to get on with him.
Satoru laughs. “Aw, did I bruise your ego, baby? What are you gonna do about it?”
Suguru points to his mouth. “Sit on him to shut him up and I’ll give him a nice view of my cock in your mouth.”
Fuck, that sounds hot. Satoru just grins and motions for you to ride his face, pointing at his eager tongue that’s already out and waiting.
“Y/n, make sure he stays quiet I don’t want to hear him make a single peep. And since he likes being punished so much, I’ll punish you instead if he speaks.”
What?
You blink. Undeniably aroused but a bit scared of his now very evident sadism. “You know he’s going to try to speak now on purpose?” Mercy isn’t exactly his thing right now but you’ll pry at it for sure.
Suguru gives you an evil grin as you lower your weeping pussy onto Satoru’s face. “Then keep his mouth shut.”
2K notes · View notes
softtdaisy · 9 months
Text
🌲 a found family l max verstappen
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summary. you and max can't spend Christmas together but a trip to his dad and the love he has for you make him realize that he deserves better. a better life. a better love. a better family.
words count. 2,596
a/n. and this is the last piece for this Christmas series. Thanks to all of you for sticking me through December. and a massive thanks to my favorite person @monzabee for encouraging me and for giving me this beautiful idea to end the series 🫶
a very angsty Christmas l masterlist
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You looked absolutely gorgeous, wearing a dress Max had bought you this year during one of your holidays. One of the many gifts he did to you this year, because if there were one thing that could describe your boyfriend it would be his generiosity. That man could buy you the world if you wanted it. 
And that was maybe what was making him the saddest tonight.
He could see you wearing it and neither could he offer you his gift. 
Because you were not spending Christmas’ eve together. But in each other’s family.
“You know this look is a great excuse to skip the diner at my dad’s?” Max asked which made you laughed. He was still sit on your bed, his shirt barely closed and his hair absolutely not styled. He was the closest to his place, compared to you who had to drive for almost two hours. 
He watched you as you walked to your phone, that you had put on your wardrobe to show your whole look. “You’re such a flirt, Maxie.” you kept laughing, specially when he started making his poutty face that you absolutely love. You always found it funny how most people saw him as this arrogant guy when he was such a sweetheart. 
“Ain’t I allowed to flirt with my girl?” 
“You are. It’s a shame you won’t enjoy the result of this flirt tonight.” 
This hasn’t been an easy decision for either of you. It’s was only your first christmas together since you started dating on january. And you really wish you could have spend the evening together. But you learn one thing through this past year: never go against Jos Verstappen’s plan. 
From the first race you attended, you got the feeling Jos didn’t really appreciate you. You tried to talk about it with Max without making a whole drama out of it but he didn’t really react. Or say anything, actually.
Not that Max didn’t care. It was even far from it. He just didn’t know what to do. He never talked about his personnal life with his dad and it wouldn’t be a first now. Specially not with these type of question. Max always assumed that his father only care about his racing career. It couldn’t be that bad if he wasn’t interested in his son’s couple. Right?
“I have to go” you told Max, who was lost on his thoughts. He enjoyed for the last few seconds to sight of you before you had to hung up. “Call me if you need, alright?” 
“Even if I don’t need it.” he laughed before letting you go.
Every time he had to say goodbye to you, on the phone or because you couldn’t follow him for the next race, Max felt a little hole in his heart. He never thought one day he’ll met someone that could complete him like you did. 
That’s all he thought about until he arrived at his dad’s place. All the thing he wanted to do with you before the new season starts, where he would take you during the holiday, which races you could be there and what places he wanted to show you during these weekend. More than just happiness for your couple, Max realised how important you were for his anxiety. Before he met you, most of the time he had to drive to see his father, he was anticipated all the bad things that could happen. The critics, the disapproval, the yelling if they really did disagree on something. And the worst part was that, in the end, he was just living the nightmare before it happened.
And maybe it was the fact he didn’t think about all these things before arriving, but Max felt good when he arrived.
“Uncle Maxie!” And being around his nephew was definitely a good help.
For many years, Max never consider having children. The anxiety he developped because of his own childhood was a perfect argument to avoid trying. How could he give a child what he needs if he doesn’t know himself what a kid should have? He knew what he shouldn’t do, that’s all.
But these past weeks, from seeing his nephews and calling them, he realized that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.
And maybe, you weren’t for nothing in this change of mind.
“You’re shinny, uncle Maxie.” 
“Shinny?” he laughed, still playing with the little cars that represent all the Formula one drivers.
“Yep. You’re happy.” 
Max didn’t know what to answer to that. But then he felt two hands on his shoulders and a kiss from Victoria on his hair. “He’s right.” He turned around to look at her. He guessed that the look she had was just another proof that indeed, he was lookier happier. “It’s for the toast, come.”
It was some kind of tradition. Everyone had to say what they were grateful for at the end of this year. Kids, health, career… each other always revolved around these subjects. Max was not going to break the circle. Not today.
“Well I’m grateful for the amazing year I spend. Winning the championship again was more than I could expect at the beginning of the season. So yeah I’m grateful for the team, for the work we did to win the races and create such amazing memories all together.” 
Max stopped for a few seconds, thinking about what he could be grateful for. There was one thing, obviously.
If he met his father’s eyes, he wouldn’t have continued. But he didn’t. He looked at Victoria and her massive smile. 
“And I’m grateful for my girlfriend. I couldn’t have go through this crazy year without her. She’s my rock, she’s my best friend, she’s without a doubt my soulmate and I’m glad I could finally found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
Max heard all the lovely and loudly sound from his family. And before he could notice her, Victoria was already in his arms, telling him how proud she was that he finally found the happiness he deserved.
Again, he could have focus on the good thing, all the congratulations and excitement about this new family member that they all couldn’t wait to meet. But this time, Max did saw Jos look on him. One that he sadly knew by heart: disappointment. 
At first, Max decided to ignore the situation and spend most of the evening playing with his nephews, pretending to be a car himself to drive them around the house. But he couldn’t escape the heavy atmosphere forever.
Max saw that Jos was sitting by himself in the living room, with a whisky in his hand. He hesitated, did he really wanted to break all the good vibes for a talk for his dad? And then again, he was too nice to avoid him. No matter if he knew he would end this conversation with some broken feelings, Max couldn’t escape it. Because if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that he never wanted to become like his father. A man that would rather ignore the people he love for the sake of disappointment. Silence was never the solution.
“So, how do we feel about new season?” Max asked, sitting next to him. If there was one subject they couldn’t really argue about was his career. Or at least, even if there was some disagreement, it wouldn’t end up badly.
“You have to leave her.” It was simple. Five words. Said with a hard tone. Like an order. “You’re already losing your man over that…stupid girl. You can’t let yourself fail for a woman, Max.”
Maybe he should have gone with the swerve, in the end. “What do you mean? I’ve been with her for a year and I still won.” He could have, maybe, understand if the season was a pure fail. But it wasn’t. The car was amazing and he won almost every races. There was not single doubt that not only you weren’t a burden but you were a motivation for him. It didn’t make sense. But still, Max knew where all of this came from. Because he knew his father.
“A woman is always a burden in a career.” 
“This is why you got married thrice?” It left his mouth without Max had time to notice it. Truth is, he got tired as he grow older of the need to think about his words. What could he say what he mean to his dad? Why should he still be afraid? “Trust me, you terrible at giving relationship advices.” 
“You should watch your mouth.” Jos replied, taking a stew towards his son. For many years, Max used to step back to avoid the confrontation. Not anymore.
Instead, he took at step towards too. “You should watch yours. I won that fucking championiship, again. And you can’t even congratulate me? All you think about is the woman that want to spend her life with me? Not you, me.”
He noticed the change, again, in Jos look. It was getting darker and darker, like his anger was taking over himself and he was close to not be able to contain himself. Usually, Max was scared of the moment he would explode. There was just one change in his mind. You.
Max could accept any criticism about his career or life choices, he didn’t care. It was his life. Sometimes he might be wrong and he could deal with his dad saying that he warned him. He was still young and could deal with some mistakes.
But there was one thing he could never let Jos critcize or give his opinion on it: you.
“I won’t let you ruin your career for some stupid woman.” Jos got the time to grab his wrist. Max hated feeling like a child, all over again. Looking for his dad approval. 
Expect that this time, he didn’t want it. “Fine. It’s my career. I don’t need your opinion.” he managed to free himself and was already leaving the room. He couldn’t continue this without letting it become some shit show. No matter the situation, his family didn’t deserve it. Specially not on Christmas eve. 
“If you don’t leave her, then i’m not supporting you anymore.” 
Max stopped in the middle of the room. He heard the sound of a glass falling in the kitchen sink. He heard the sudden silence in the children’s playroom. This was the results of year of fighting for Jos seeing him as an equal, as a real driver and not a child who wants to grow older and be consider an adult. This was the results of feeling like his dad loved him.
Max was hurt. But he couldn’t fight anymore. “Fine.” he didn’t turn around, didn’t want to look at his father. It wasn’t the idea of seeing him. It was the idea of Jos seeing how bad he broke him, again. “I’ll do better without you.” 
The silence was still everywhere when Max walked to his sister to kiss her and said goodbye to his nephew. It was for the better, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to fight if they asked him to stay. But Victoria knew his brother, and what he deserves was to be in a place where he felt loved. 
And there was one where he knew he would never be ignored and rejected.
When you opened the door, you imagined different scenarios. But never one where you would see Max on your doorstep. “Baby?” you asked with confusion, almost like you were sure he was real.
“I’m sorry, I should have called, I know i wasn’t invited but…” he didn’t need to continue. Because you recognized the look in his eyes. One you sadly saw before. When he argued with his dad on the circuit and you couldn’t do anything than holding him in your arms. Telling me it would get better. That he wasn’t alone.
That was the only truth Max needed. He was far from being alone.
So you offered your hand to him. “Come in baby.” you noticed the little hesitation in his look, on that sadden you. It wasn’t that Max didn’t want to come in. It was a pur fear of opening his heart to you and losing you after. It didn’t last long, because he knew deep down that you were here to stay. But you were scared that this was a kind of thought that would never leave his mind.
You gave him a small and simple kiss on the lips, a kind of silent promise that you were supporting him. It wasn’t much, but it was more than Max even asked for. He was so not used of being understood and loved, this simple attention was enough to light up his heart again.
“Sweetie, who’s th… Oh Max! What a lovely surprise!” 
You were interrupted by your dad who almost push you away to take Max in his arms. You weren’t surprised. First, because your dad was a very lovely and tactile person who couldn’t resist this type of greeting. Second, because he appreciated Max so much, he was probably the one praying every day for a wedding. Third, because he had been asking you all night why you didn’t bring him. 
But Max, on the contrary, was more than surprised by that. Was he really that happy to see him? “Come in, you’re getting cold. Did you eat? We have…” you didn’t even hear the rest of the sentence that your dad had already pulled Max to the living room. Your boyfriend just had the time to turn around and give you a curious look. To which you replied with a smile. It felt right to see him being appreciated and treated like he should.
All your family spend the night talking to him, asking questions and making him feel like he was home. That was the truth, actually: this place was also a home for him. It was yours. And your family already considered him as a part of it. There was no reason for Max to not be a full member. 
It wasn’t until you got to bed, in your bedroom, that he let his mind speak. You were laying on his chest while he was looking at the ceiling and caressing your hair. It was relaxing for both of you to stay in silence after the crazy night you had. 
“I’ve felt much more at home here in a few hours than in all my life with my dad.” Max said slowly, in a whisper.
You turned your head just enough to look at him while he was still focused on his thoughts. You were making a whole speech in your head to make him feel better. You had no idea how he felt about this. This must be such a strange situation to feel more loved by your family-in-law than your own. 
But then he put a kiss on your hair and started to smile. “Thank you.” he whispered, like he was scared to be heard by anyone else. “For finding me and for loving me.”
You could feel your heart melt at this confession. “Thank you for opening your heart to me.” you replied. 
And you stayed like that for a good minute before you made a debrief of the whole evening here. When you both fell asleep, you realised you had the greatest gift you could ever dream of. Happiness in the arms of your loved one.
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turcott3 · 6 months
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west side
lando norris x fem! reader
warnings?: cursing, alcohol, smut, p in v, creampie, and ofc as per usual!!!!! fluff!!!!!
positions fics masterlist
~i’m gonna make you want more, i’m gonna be your new favorite~
-
you laid on the couch with a glass of wine, chatting with lando, who you became friends with through your cousin. the two of you had grown somewhat close, however, you always felt a bit of tension when you were together, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. the two of you sat watching youtube downing drinks. you were already past the point of a buzz, you were a bit tipsy. both of you were.
“i feel like i haven’t had sex in so long.”
“lando is the middle of the season, that checks out.” you laugh.
“yeah but like, it kinda sucks.”
“you like to get your dick wet huh?” you laugh.
“yep, no shame in it.” he admits confidently.
“you wanna know something crazy?” you say picking up your glass.
“hit me.”
“a man has never made me finish.”
“really?” he gasps.
“nope, only i’ve been able to accomplish that shit myself.” you say, face slightly pink at the fact that you admitted that to him.
“wow.” he scoffs.
“i wish i knew what it felt like to cum at the hands of someone else.” you continue, digging yourself a deeper hole.
“well i can show you, if you want.” he states taking a sip. you didn’t know why, but suddenly your heart dropped.
“oh uh, i mean you dont have to-“
“maybe i want to? i’m not pity fucking you y/n. you’re gorgeous.” he replies. you couldn’t help the blush that creeped onto your face at his words. you scooted close to him boldly, taking his face into your hands, connecting your lips lazily. you could taste the alcohol on both of your breaths, becoming more intoxicated by the second. not more drunk, but more horny.
“lay down for me sweetheart.” he states as you pull away. you pull your shirt over your head, exposing yourself to him. you lay back and he crawls over you, attaching his lips to your neck as your fingers pulled at his curls.
“lando please.” you beg, tugging at the brunette’s curls lightly. he pulls away giggling.
“so anxious.” he teases, helping you pull your pants off before discarding all of his own. you scanned his dark, toned body up and down, observing the way the light hit all of his muscles perfectly. you couldn’t believe the sight in front of you. maybe the tension you couldn’t land you mind on, was sexual all along.
“i wanna do this the right way. so before you ask, no, i’m not eating you out. as much as i want to.” he smirks, leaning over you attaching your lips.
“don’t care, just want you in me.” you mumbled as you watched him rub himself hard.
“what’s that pretty girl?” he replies not hearing you.
“lan please, fuck me.” you say just a little louder and he smirks. he sits up positioning himself between your legs, running his hard cock through your folds before pushing himself into your wet pussy.
“god so wet for me huh princess?” he giggles as you attempt to gain your composure. you grip onto his shoulders as your head remained still between his hands that were on either side of you. he thrusted into you deeply, wrapping your legs around his hips. so far everything felt good. with every thrust he stretched you to a new level, his tip brushing the sensitive spot in your core.
“fuck lando.” you moan out.
“yeah you like that huh?” he grunts and all you can do is nod. your nails dug into his shoulders harshly. your moans beginning to be drowned out by the sound of his skin slapping against yours as he picked up his speed. he brought his lips to yours to quiet you down as your moans became yelps.
“shhh baby, you’re gonna wake up the neighbors.” he coos in your ear before replanting his lips onto yours. his kiss had become addicting to you, almost more so than the way his dick was pounding into you. he pulled out of you to roll over and get up on all fours, he plunged back into you easily, fucking you deeper and harder than before. you were a moaning mess, tears welling up in your eyes.
“oh my god.” you say. the familiar feeling of your orgasm was close. closer than you thought. it came out of nowhere.
“you gonna cum for me?” he smirks.
“fuck yes i think i a- oh my god.” you begin, interrupted by an orgasm ripping through your abdomen.
“good girl.” he mutters in your ear, slowing down his thrusts as you began to come down, your legs quivering slightly.
“oh my god, you made me fucking cum.” you giggle as he came to a stop, pulling out of you.
“told you.” he smirks.
“you’re fucking incredible.” you say grabbing onto his face and bringing him in for a deep kiss.
“too bad i didn’t get my turn.” he frowns jokingly.
“now hold on, that would be unfair of me. sit down.” you say and he does as he’s told. you straddle his hips shakily, sinking yourself onto him. you felt yourself get horny all over again. he placed his hands on your hips, assisting you in bouncing up and down on his thick cock. you knew he wasn’t gonna last long at the way he grunted every time you came down. you laid a kiss on his lips, lingering until you felt his cock twitch and spill his climax deep into you. you fucked him until he was dry.
“fucking hell.” he grunts leaning his head back to look at the ceiling.
“fuck this is gonna be messy.” you groan realizing the mess you’d make once you stood up.
“i mean you could just not move.” he suggests, his brain currently replaced by dick.
“very funny.” you reply slapping him lightly on the chest as you pull him out of you, the mixture of your climaxes forming a small puddle around the base of his cock. you dropped to your knees, sucking him clean of the juices, his jaw dropping at the sight.
“better?” you reply wiping your mouth.
“uh huh.” he replies, no words forming.
“uh here’s your clothes, i know you have practice tomorrow i don’t wanna keep you all night.” you reply picking his clothes up off the floor. you weren’t sure why you felt the need to tell him he could leave. you knew you cared about him but you didn’t know his feelings towards you.
shit for all you knew you liked him. after all he was the only man that knew how to make you finish. he was your new favorite.
“is it alright if i stay?” he asks, scratching the back of his head.
“oh uh- yes of course. i just wasn’t sure that you’d want to.”
“of course i do, what do you think this is? i didn’t fuck you out of pity, i told you that.” he giggles pulling his boxers back on and laying back on the couch.
“come here pretty girl.” he says opening his arms to you as you pulled your baggy tshirt over your head. you positioned yourself between his legs, laying your head on his chest as he strokes your hair.
“i’m glad you didn’t want to leave.” you mumble.
“what was that?”
“i’m glad you didn’t want to leave.” you state louder, leaning up to look at him. he replies by guiding your lips back to his, his tongue plunging into your mouth with ease.
“so what do we do now?” you reply giggling, pulling away from him.
“you busy tomorrow? i got a paddock pass.” he smiles.
“i’ll clear my schedule.” you blush, laying your head against his chest, dozing off to the sound of his slow heart beat and the feeling of his fingers running delicately through your hair.
“sweet dreams my pretty girl.” he whispers, that being the last thing you heard before you drifted off to sleep.
-
964 notes · View notes
gasstationlady · 1 year
Text
GUTS | a lando norris social media au | pt. 2
pairing: lando norris x singer!reader, ex!drew starkey x reader
drew is still hung up on y/n, but the grid’s new it couple couldn’t care less.
notes: final part of guts!! thank you so much for all the love you guys showed the first part <3 and dw i have so many more smaus in the drafts! tried to write and add a bit more but i ran out of space :/ i hope the plot makes sense! i feel like bc i know how i wanted the story to go i can't rlly spot the plot holes as easily.
disclaimer: NOT PROOFREAD. let's pretend that jennifer lawrence "kym illman" picture is olivia lmfaooo. btw the events in “GUTS” sometimes does not line up with the schedule followed in real life. again, no hate to drew and, now also, to ppl on the today show aha. (CONGRATS LANDO FOR P2 AHHH)
masterlist ⋆ previously
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, drewstarkey and 4,810,592 others
yourusername thanks for having me vmas!!!! <3
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yourbestie STUNNING
user pls not drew liking her post when he doesn’t even follow her 😭😭😭
↳ user no he’s actually so painfully desperate lmaoo
↳ user i’m glad lando and y/n are just ignoring him
↳ user girl i’m not, i want the drama AHA
user love u more than anything
user lando liking and the two of them now following each other 🤔 yup him and y/n are forrr sure together
↳ user yea after the deuxmoi post and lando’s soft launch it’s basically confirmed at this point
↳ user i wonder if she’ll be attending the next gp bc i’d actually die and then come back to life if it happens
user you look BEYONDDDDD 😍😍
user are we fr just gonna ignore drew like..
thetodayshow
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liked by landonorris and 67,298 others
thetodayshow It’s GUTS day! We loved having @/yourusername on the TODAY plaza. 🍒🎤🧡
We sat with Y/N to talk about her new album and recent scandals surrounding the topics of her work. “I just write songs; it’s not my job to interpret them for people.”
Tune in on our Youtube channel for extra clips of our interview with Y/N and her performances!
View all 342 comments
user SHE ATE THOSE PERFORMANCES. DEVOURED.
user some of those questions were a bit invasive
↳ user i was thinking the same thing, but y/n handled that rlly professionally
user omg how have her vocals gotten better 😭
user lmaoooooo i see you hiding in the likes lando
↳ user it’s so cute that he’s following her activities 🥹🥹
↳ user he’s probably here bc of what she said in the interview
↳ user wait i didn’t watch everything, what did she say??
↳ user so they asked how she felt about her exes being a popular topic on the internet, and so she said “I just write songs; it’s not my job to interpret them for people.” they also asked about drew and whether they’re going to get back together (which, may i add, felt a little rude to me) and y/n replied with “Those who I’m close with can reach me anytime. I tend to not focus on anyone else.”
↳ user thank you for summarizing!! doing god’s work fr 🫡
user y/n handled the situation perfectly
↳ user no bc the way she said not too much but enough to stand up for herself and her privacy
user AHAHAHAHA SHE RLLY SAID AINT NO WAY SHES GOING BACK TO DREW
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ynupdates
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41,086 likes
ynupdates Y/n seen arriving in Singapore!
View all 462 comments
user wait you’re lying??? actually? waaait 😭
user IS SHE GOING TO THE GP OMG PLS
user i mean i knew they were together but imagine a paddock appearance 😩😩 i don’t think we can handle it guys
user if she makes an appearance at the paddock with lando, i don’t understand why he didn’t just go as her date for the vmas too 😭😭
↳ user i doubt they wanted to hard launch at the vmas lol y/n was barely even in the audience, tbh i think she left early
↳ user y/n has said before that award shows make her rlly anxious, so yea she probably didn’t want too much attention on herself esp with all the drew drama
user did i miss something, i thought lando was still in ny? why didn’t they just travel together?
↳ user lando probs had to leave earlier bc practice started on friday, and y/n still had a few tv show performances which i’m assuming is why she arrived today instead
kymillman
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51,159 likes
kymillman F1’S NEW FAVORITE COUPLE
The first driver to arrive this morning was Mclaren driver Lando Norris. For the first time he is joined with his new girlfriend, Y/N L/N, a famous Filipino-American pop singer.
For A3 prints, hand-signed & numbered by a range of drivers/team principals head to kymillman.com
View all 343 comments
user omg it’s happening it’s happening
user HEY SIRI PLAY THAT SHOULD BE ME BY JUSTIN BIEBER
user this pic should be put in the louvre that is how monumental it is
user THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT?? FROM KYM??😭😭
user first💔hard💔launch💔is💔a💔paddock💔appearance💔
user the hand holding 🥹🥹
user don’t know if i’m more jealous of lando or y/n
user damn god really out here choosing favorites
user they’re already becoming my comfort couple omg i can’t i love them so much
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landonorris
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 1,135,226 others
landonorris Singapore 🥈
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user so proud of you lando!!
user AHHHH y/n cameo
user god idk if i'm ever going to get used to seeing y/n with lando
user SHE LOOKS SO GOOD
user yay carlando podium !!! 🥹
— — —
8 months later
landonorris
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liked by yourusername, yourbestie and 4,475,987 others
landonorris Happy one year, love ❤️
View all 24,395 comments
yourusername there's nothing i love more than those chips
↳ landonorris 😐
user they're the reason i believe in love
user damn i think this is about to be lando's most liked post lmaoo
user the fact that he calls her love 😭😭
user luckiest man alive i stg
user how does she always look so good
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 6,788,335 others
yourusername cause i love to love, to love, to love you
View all 35,719 comments
landonorris that guy's pretty handsome
↳ yourusername very :)
yourbestie LOVE seeing you happy
user omggg i'm crying i can't believe its already been a year
user might sleep on the freeway today
user let the light in is such a cute song to dedicate to someone
user LOL not the third pic
user i love them so much 🥹
user if you ever break up, love isn't real
2K notes · View notes
starkwlkr · 1 year
Note
Hi. Love your fics!!! Could you do a Charles + Ruby one where Y/N is a singer and they go to one of her concerts or a big performance like her Super Bowl halftime show or something? Thank you!❤️
mommy’s biggest fans | charles leclerc
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y/n is in her harry styles fifteen nights at msg era 🫶🏼 so for this imagine we are doing her final night at msg or the kia forum or whichever arena you’d like
also taylor is going to be the faceclaim this time because why not 🙃 also kelly mention but only because p is the cutest kid 🥲
“We are getting ready for my wife’s concert tonight,” Charles spoke to the camera. He decided that Y/n’s last concert would be a great place to make a vlog. He looked at his phone. “It is four thirty and the kids are not ready. Ruby is watching Bluey.”
“And Bingo! Don’t forget Bingo!” Ruby said as she munched on her fruit snacks while seated on the bed.
“Right, Bingo too. All of the family is coming and so are our friends. Maman and Théo are having a nap, but soon we’ll have to go to the arena to see my wife perform, isn’t that exciting, Ruby?” Charles asked the girl.
“She’s going to sing my favorite song, she told me.”
“What’s your favorite song?” Charles asked.
“All of them, duh!”
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“How are you feeling?” The camera was pointed at Y/n, who was getting her makeup done for her show. Charles and the kids had arrived so they spent their time in Y/n’s dressing room until the show began. Y/n’s dressing room changed over the years. First, it was filled with makeup and dresses and lots of food for before and after the show. Now, it had a stroller, toys and diaper bags.
“I am so happy. My family and friends are here. I’m so glad all of the nights have been sold out.” Y/n smiled.
“And do you have any surprises for tonight?”
“I have some. . .”
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Ruby was escorted to her seat along with the Leclerc family and their friends. As the show began, the lights changed which caused Ruby to scream as loud as she could. She had been to many of her mother’s shows before, but she always had the same reaction.
Y/n started singing and so did Ruby and Mathéo. They knew all of her songs even the unreleased ones. Towards the middle of the show, a man apart of Y/n’s security team whispered something into Charles’ ear then walked with him to the side stage. Ruby was the only one who noticed as her family and friends danced and sang along.
“So this is the part of the show where I usually have some big surprise. And I do have one, but I just want to take the time to thank all of you for being here, for singing these songs, dancing, making friendship bracelets, dressing up. I love you all and I hope you love this next duet.” Y/n said. She smiled as the crowd erupted into cheers.
She walked further down the stage to her piano. The fans immediately thought she would be the one to play the piano, but they were mistaken since Charles had made his way to the piano with the biggest smile on his face.
As Charles sat on the piano bench, Y/n spoke again to the crowd. “Ladies, gentlemen, friends. I am very happy to introduce you to the man that makes me the happiest woman on earth, my husband, my muse, Mr. Charles Leclerc!” Y/n clapped as the crowd cheered for Charles, who got shy by the love he was receiving. “and also the father of my two kids, just had to add that.” She chuckled.
“Hello.” Charles spoke into the microphone which caused more cheers.
“They love you,” Y/n teased as she looked back to Charles. “So Charles and I talked and we had a hard time trying to pick which song to play together. We didn’t know if we wanted to do a cover or one of my songs and finally we decided why not play a new song.”
As Charles played a bit with the keys, Y/n looked back once again to him just to make sure he was alright. She then nodded at him so they could start.
Moon, a hole of light
Through the big top tent up high
Here before and after me
After the duet, Charles whispered an ‘I love you’ to his wife, which she returned. As the show went on, Y/n would often walk to the section that her family was in and blew them a kiss.
Y/n knew that most drivers on the F1 grid were going to attended, one of them being Sebastian with his wife and kids. She remembered Charles mentioning that it was Sebastian and Hanna’s wedding anniversary so she knew that she just had to sing a love song to them.
“This next song is dedicated to two special people who are celebrating their anniversary today. Seb, Hanna, congratulations and you know I will always love you and your family.” Y/n smiled at the Vettel family who were next to hers.
We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January
And this is our place, we make the rules
f1wagsupdates has added to their story // lilymhe has added to their story
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After the show ended, Y/n couldn’t believe she had just played fifteen nights straight. She loved performing, but what she loved the most was her family and her family needed her more than ever. She was finally coming home to her babies and Charles.
When she got backstage, she immediately started asking for her family. A stage manager had told her they were on their way backstage. When she spotted the kids, she ran up to them and hugged them.
“Maman! You sang my favorite song! And then papa played the piano with you! I waved at you but I don’t know if you saw me. I was with uncle Thur and Théo was with uncle Enzo. We sang so loud, could you hear us?” Ruby asked her mother.
“I did. You both sang so beautifully.” Y/n told her babies. They walked together to her dressing room where the rest of her family and friends were waiting.
“Ma fille! You did amazing as always! And that duet with Charles! You two know how to make a grown woman cry.” Pascale gave a hug to her daughter in law.
“Thank you for being here.” Y/n wiped away a couple of tears.
“You know I’ll always be there for you no matter what.”
After greeting and thanking everyone for coming, she finally got some alone time with Charles. He had surprised her with a giant bouquet of flowers and a cake to celebrate the end of tour. Charles sat on the sofa in her dressing room as Y/n was taking off her makeup in front of the vanity.
“When do you think you’ll be back on tour? I know you just finished.” Charles asked.
“I’m not sure. I don’t want to retire from the music industry. I want to be home with the kids, be able to help them with homework, make cakes for their birthdays, I would give anything just to be able to walk them to school.” Y/n explained. She began to feel emotional so she stood up and paced around the room in her white robe.
“I know, and you’re finally going to be able to do that, Mon amour. The kids are going to have their maman home.”
“I love you, I love you so so much.” Y/n said.
“I love you more.”
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liked by kellypiquet, charlotte2304 and 2,377,790 others
y/nleclerc i will miss all these special moments we made during tour. thank you to everyone who came, everyone who helped. THANK YOU! thank you for singing, dancing, trading friendship bracelets and most of all, thank you for making me feel loved! I’m going to go away for some time so in the mean time, take care of each other and I will see you soon ❤️
love, y/n.
carmenmmundt you are incredible ✨
francisca.cgomes I CRIED DURING CORNELIA STREET
pierregasly can confirm
kellypiquet P and I had the best time! Thank you for inviting us!
susie_wolff amazing as always!
carla.brocker THE music industry 🫶🏼
charles_leclerc i love you forever and always
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liked by arthur_leclerc, joris__trouche and 1,366,890 others
charles_leclerc congratulations on everything, mon amour. the kids and i are always proud of you. y/nleclerc
ferraridepressionclub i wish i didn’t know how to read 😭
wolff_toto_ sleeping on the highway tonight
roscoesacutalmom i was there and the way y/n’s eye lit up everytime she saw Charles or their kids 😭
y/nscardigan the speech she gave after the concert 🥲
leclercstype what did she say? the livestream i was watching was lagging 😭
y/nscardigan basically she thanked the fans and she also thanked her family for being so supportive and then she apologized to her kids for being away for so long but she said ‘now maman is coming home’ 😭 which made me cry even more
y/nleclerc I’m not even mad you picked these. Come back to bed, the kids and I miss you.
charles_leclerc on my way 😘
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klipkillakai · 4 months
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thinking about reader getting caught :) 18+ mdni
you’ve waited patiently all week, you’ve held in your urges and you were good. you were a good girl always, but sometimes even you have your faults..
the room is silent, you are silent. you eye the drawer next to you and you bite your lips in thought, should you? you want to.. and a little voice on your left is begging you too, but you also hear his—
“don’t touch yourself without my permission” he says, but this time you simply can’t ask, he’s out, doing something for work and has instructed you not to call him u less it’s an emergency, sometimes you hate how bossy rafe is, but the peace you get from it outweighs those stray thoughts..
another tick of the clock finally breaks through your control, you open the drawer and pull out your pretty pink sparkly dildo, you belly flutters in anticipation, you feel so empty :( you haven’t had dick in a day or two.. poor baby, rafe is always so busy and hasn’t fucked you properly, your aching.. it just feels so sore..
you grab your phone and open the texts between you and rafe, you scroll through and quickly find a video of him tugging at his thick cock, his grunts and groans fill your ears and your thighs squeeze together, you lean back against your pillow and slip your hand under your shorts, immediately being met with your slick and throbbing clit, you let out a sigh..
you tummy sends a ping of pleasure through you, you continue to watch and slowly circle your clit with your fingers, you spread your legs wider and they twitch every-time your fingers circle against the most sensitive point of your clit, you slide down your folds and press your finger tips against your sore hole and you shiver, you nipples perk up and gain sensitivity, you quickly lift your shirt up to set them free and your body heats up at the added sensuality
you finally let yourself slip two fingers inside, curling yours just like rafe does, he’s taught you well. you slowly push them inside, in and out..in and out, you mewl, “fuck” you whisper, your desperation begins to shine through and you quicken your fingers, pleasure! it flows through you, this. is. it. this is what you’ve wanted all day, god it feels so good, god your such a slut you think to yourself…
wait..
that didn’t sound like yourself.. that sounded like..
your eyes snap open, your fingers pause and you gasp, “baby?” you say breathlessly.. embarrassment and shame shoots through you, you see him in the door way, leaning against the white frame, arms crossed and an arrogant smile plastered on his face..
“oh don’t stop because of me, i was enjoying the show”
|a/n|
NEEED HIM NEEDD HIM S’BADDDDD LIKE I NEEED DICK I MEAN RAFE I MEAN DICK I MEAN-
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sunlightmurdock · 3 days
Text
Ashes, Ashes | One | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
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masterlist | prologue | next chapter
Synopsis: In which Maverick didn’t make it home after the Uranium mission. He’s missing, presumed dead. There are things that have to be done — someone has to take care of the house, the bills.
So, Maverick’s daughter is back in Fightertown for the first time since she was in elementary school. There’s a gaping hole in both of their lives now, and somehow, the world’s supposed to just keep on turning without him.
Warnings: mitchell!reader, no physical descriptors other than the implication that Bradley is taller, no use of YN, age gap (23/33), smut, angst, hurt / comfort, mentions of character death, mourning, military inaccuracies. This entire fic and my blog is an 18+ space, minors do not interact. Do not repost.
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Crossing the threshold into Maverick’s home doesn’t come naturally to either one of you. This place is something that you had both left behind. Outgrown. It’s solely his. It’s not your home and it has never been, until now. Now, you’re stuck here until things are figured out.
On that fourteen hour drive down to San Diego, you had a lot of time to think. How long is a person supposed to wait for a body to turn up before they go ahead and throw the funeral without it?
Three paces into the hallway, brown wood floors and white walls, you’re met with a smiling family picture. Only, you’re not in it. 
Because, it’s not a picture of Pete’s family. Pete doesn’t have a family. Pete Mitchell has a daughter from a one night stand with a married woman.
This picture is of a real family. Hung on the wall opposite the front door is a picture of Nick and Carole Bradshaw holding their infant son. He’s bald and gummy. They’re grinning and showing him off like a prize trophy — so proud of him even though all he did in those days was drool and pee himself. 
These days, their infant son is up to more important things. Their infant son grew to an upsettingly grand height and is carrying two of your bags in one hand behind you today.
“C’mon, Mitchell — these are heavy.” Bradley huffs softly from behind you, reminding you that you’re standing stationary and blocking his path. 
The nickname stings you. Your name isn’t Mitchell because your biological father had wanted it to be. It’s Mitchell solely because your mother’s husband knew you weren’t his and would rather die before letting you take his name.
You shrug your duffel bag closer to your body and turn left. Bradley huffs under the weight of your luggage from behind you, watching you walk your cute butt in completely the wrong direction. “Wait, where are you going?”
Not struggling at all under the weight of your single duffel bag, you turn slowly to face him and frown slightly. “My room.” 
You don’t remember Bradley. Not in your own memories, anyway. You know he was around, you’ve seen him in pictures but the image in your head doesn’t match. Not quite right. Like puzzle pieces bent and forced together.
He’s taller than he looked at his high school graduation, which sits pictured and framed above Mav’s mantle. Older, but that’s to be expected. Up close, he looks more like his mother than his father. A slight bump in his nose and scars, nicely healed, but jagged and raised nonetheless dusted his cheek and his throat. 
Even with all those differences, there’s a familiarity to him that makes this all feel a little bit less suffocating.
Bradley’s brows draw together. He gives a small nod in the direction of the spare room. “That’s… I usually stayed in that room.”
“Oh.” You hum. With Bradley being ten years your senior, the room was his long before it was yours. With him growing up so close by, it was probably his much more frequently than it was yours. It’s not like you kept anything here anyway. It’s just a guest room that you would occupy every now and again.
There’s a brief quiet between you. 
“I just figured you could take the big room. ‘Til you get settled. I’ll go home once your car is fixed, if that’s what you want.” Bradley adds on. That sad little look on your face is killing him. 
The big room. The loft room upstairs. You’re pretty sure that you’ve never even been upstairs in this house.
“You’re staying too?” 
Oh. Yeah. He hadn’t addressed that point yet. Truthfully, he hadn’t even been planning to stay. He hasn’t even packed an overnight bag. But, from the second that you stepped out of the car and looked up at the house with that look on your face, he hadn’t even considered leaving you here alone.
“Just ‘til we get your car fixed,” He offers with a small shrug. “I’ll be here to run you around until then.”
Like he’s doing this for your sake. Natasha has her own life to get back to and Bradley can’t stand the thought of going back to his apartment alone. 
“Okay,” You agree, turning to peer down the hall towards the spare room. It’s nothing special — it really never felt like yours. “Alright, I’ll take Pete’s room.”
Pete. You call Maverick ‘Pete’ now. 
Bradley just nods, shifting the weight of your bags and nodding for you to head for the stairs. All the floors in this house are tan oak. The entryway is now herringbone. With the help of a friend, Pete had done the entire thing himself. 
Of course, as you walk silently across it, neither one of you would know that. Neither one of you was speaking to him last May, which was why he had needed a project in the first place.
Natasha’s outside on the phone. Bradley’s footsteps thud on the wood of the stairs behind you, following you up. You stop at the top, leaving just enough room for Bradley to stand there behind you.
The door to Maverick’s room is open. His bed is made. There’s a book thrown on top of it, the spine cracked and used, the pages yellow from years out in the sun.
“No way is he still trying to fucking finish War and Peace.” Bradley steps around you with your bags in his hands and heads straight for the book. Pete started this book before Bradley finished elementary school. Bradley twists and looks back at you. “He always gets bored and stops reading, then forgets his page and starts again.”
Another slow nod. One foot in front of the other, your shoes along the tan oak floors. Your fingers trail the white walls. Maverick wouldn’t have minded. This place was always messy before. It’s not now. 
This house is vacant and quiet, but it’s far from empty. It’s filled to the brim, practically pulling apart at the seams with everything that Maverick was and planned to be. He was finishing War and Peace — he made it to chapter 253 this time; further than he had ever made it before. 
Your throat is thick with the knowledge that all you knew Maverick to be, is now all that he’ll ever be. An absent father, a fantastic pilot, a lousy cook. A thousand more things that you’ll never know.
Four days of knowing, a fourteen hour drive down here, and it’s a book that stings like a cold slap to the face, reminding you of why exactly it is that you’re here.
Fire burns behind your eyes, blistering and stinging as Bradley sets your bags on the floor with a soft thud.
He turns with his attention completely on the book, his fingers extending towards the peeling cover of the paperback. His fingers curl around its weathered pages and he lifts it tenderly, examining the front at first.
It’s too early to start this process bawling your eyes out, and you refuse to let Russian Literature be your downfall, again. That thick feeling sits in your throat like a stack of weights as you sit down on the end of Maverick’s bed. The mattress is soft, taking your weight without a squeak of complaint. Maybe he finally listened to you and got a bed that wasn’t so harsh on his back.
It’s been almost two years since you even set foot in this house last. If you had known that Maverick was going to be gone this soon… you sit and think to yourself about if you would have maybe visited more. Probably not.
“I’ll change the sheets and stuff, then I’ll get out of your hair for a bit.”
Lifting your head, you blink at him. He has already started to pull back the comforter and strip the bottom sheet from the bed, awkwardly forcing you onto your feet again. 
Mobile once more, you turn slowly to take in your surroundings. This is Maverick’s room. It’s his house, you were prepared for that much — but this is his room. The last thing you want is to be alone in it all night.
“Oh. Sure,” You nod, setting into motion to help take the sheets off. You watch him instead of what you’re doing. 
He’s so methodical about it, like none of this phases him at all. But then, you’ve not seen how he has been for the past few days. “I was thinking of just ordering food tonight, since I’m kinda tired — and Pete never had groceries. Would you want… to maybe join?”
“Sure.” Bradley nods, tugging the pillows out of the cases. He glances up to you with a strictly polite, neutral smile. Quiet settles between the two of you until the bed is just a bare mattress and uncovered pillows. 
There’s a moment of total stillness between the two of you. Your gaze flickers up, meeting his, and the realization settles between the two of you. Maverick’s favourite cologne was a French thing that some woman in the eighties had liked. Citrus in the shade of cypress wood. The scent fills the room like he’s standing between the two of you.
Bradley glances down at the white sheets in his hands. The snowy white peaks of those mountains, Maverick’s aircraft spiralling into them, engulfed in flames. In a sick way, Bradley hopes that he didn’t manage to eject. At least then, it would have been instant. Maverick wouldn’t have felt anything.
You watch his adam’s apple bob in his throat from the other side of the bed. The last you had heard, Mav and Bradley weren’t on speaking terms. You wonder if this is as weird for him as it is for you.
“I’ll put these in the washer. You can… unpack, or whatever.” He decides finally, already taking one step backwards, headed for the door. You stand there, blinking at him. Even with those steeped, broad shoulders, he makes it through the doorframe unscathed before he turns to check where he’s going.
He probably knows this house inside and out, just like he knew your dad. Once. 
When it comes to wracking your brain and trying to remember Bradley Bradshaw, you can’t ever come up with anything. Maybe a glimpse, here and there. A blue t-shirt with green stripes. His school backpack accidentally left in the backseat of Maverick’s convertible beside your shoddily installed car seat. 
Truthfully, your experience with Bradley Bradshaw is limited. He’s just as real to you as any of the other guys in the stories you grew up hearing about. Your very own Peter Pan is downstairs right now, trying to figure out Maverick’s ancient washing machine, just so that he doesn’t have to stand up here and stare across at you.
He can’t hide from you forever, though. Evening comes, and so does hunger. 
He stares down at the pizza between the two of you as he chews through a bite, brows drawn together slightly. He hates thin crust pizza — it’s the worst kind of pizza. But, when you had suggested it, he had agreed with a tight-lipped smile.
Natasha has gone home. It’s just the two of you. Sitting in this unchanged, all too familiar kitchen. You’re barely unpacked. You set up a couple of things in Maverick’s bathroom, but it doesn’t feel right to be in the big room upstairs. That wasn’t ever your space to claim.
You chew absentmindedly at the bite you had taken. The TV in the living room is off. The record player is coated in a layer of thin dust already. It’s dead quiet. The kitchen light is dim above your heads.
There’s a chip in the corner of the table on Bradley’s side. It’s there because Bradley was running through this kitchen when he was four years old and had tripped and knocked his front tooth out right here. His thumb trails the tiny mark, wondering how his teeth had ever been that small.
Wondering why you aren’t angry with him, too.
Maverick had picked him up that day, turned him around and held Bradley while he cried, stemming the blood and quickly introducing the concept of the tooth fairy. He had done all that he could, and Bradley still found a way to resent him for what had happened to his own father.
Bradley hasn’t ever done a thing for you. Except maybe pay for this pizza. And here you are, calm as can be. 
The sauce base feels tangy and coppery, and the cheese makes him want to puke. He sets the slice down on his plate and wipes his hands on the paper towel beside him.
Finally, he lifts his head and looks at you. Your hair is up now, tucked out of your way after an afternoon of manual labour upstairs. You’re wearing a stretched out old t-shirt. Bradley assumes you got it from a boyfriend.
Really, he doesn’t think you look that much like your old man. He would really have to search for the resemblance. But, briefly, when you offer him a polite smile across the table, he knows that you’re Mav’s kid.
“I’m sorry.” Bradley blurts out. You both look across at each other, equally surprised that he has spoken.
“…For what?” You ask quietly, lips tugging into a small frown.
“I’m sorry that I’m here and he’s not.” He’s just got to say it. He knows you probably wouldn’t bring it up on your own, but there’s a big elephant in this room. Bradley knows what it’s like to sit in your spot, and not know how to talk about it.
It’s his fault that Maverick didn’t make it home.
You stop chewing. That last bite sits in your mouth, doughy and dry all of a sudden. You stare across at him, awkwardly making yourself swallow down the last of your bite of pizza and picking up the paper towel to wipe at your mouth.
“We weren’t that close.” You tell him, like that’s supposed to make him feel better. It doesn’t. It’s like a blow to the chest. You’ll never get the opportunity to fix things, because of him.
But, he knows what it’s like to be told how to grieve. He just dips his head and nods awkwardly. “Right.” 
“I got a call from an admiral the other day,” You pick up the slice of pizza and pick at its toppings. There’s no one here now to tell you not to play with your food. Mav never really cared anyway. Bradley watches you, unhungry. “Invited me down to Miramar. He said he was a friend of Mav’s and that he could talk me through… this whole thing. How it works.” You explain with a shrug.
Bradley rubs a hand over the neatly trimmed hair above his lip. It feels like he has swallowed a golf ball, sitting here like it’s normal to be discussing the measures.
He knows how it works. It won’t be as simple as it was with his own father. At least Maverick had afforded him something to bury. For you, there’s nothing.
“I’ll have to be there around eleven.” 
“Sure,” Bradley nods, scratching at the back of his neck. His legs tingle with stiffness. Clearing his throat, he shifts in the little wooden chair and stretches, knocking his foot into yours under the table. “Oh. Sorry. I’m sorry.”
Your teeth press into the inside of your cheek. Maverick hadn’t ever described Bradley as this nervous.
“It’s fine.” You hum, pushing back in your chair and standing up from the table. “Well, I’ve been up since like… four, so I might just hit the hay.”
“Sure.” Bradley breathes out, hands braced on his thighs, eyes focussed on that tiny chip in the corner of the table. “Yeah. Goodnight.”
The downstairs bedroom seemed bigger when he was a kid. The twin-sized bunks on the carrier feel bigger than the wooden-framed bed that Maverick put in here. Bradley’s shoulder is practically hanging off the side, and the old frame creaks with each movement he makes.
It’s not like he would be sleeping much anyway. When he closes his eyes, the only thing he can see is the fireball Maverick’s plane had turned into as it fell.
Bradley’s hunched over the coffee pot by the time that you wake up. He hears you coming down the stairs and straightens up like he wasn’t three seconds from throwing the stupid thing at the wall, clearing his throat and turning around.
It occurs to him that he should have put a shirt on. This isn’t his place. It’s yours, now, he guesses — either way, he hadn’t considered making you uncomfortable. He folds his arms over his naked torso as you stroll into the kitchen, hair mussed and rubbing at your eyes.
You’re wearing big socks and the same big t-shirt you had worn to eat the pizza last night. He can’t tell if you’re wearing shorts or not.
“Morning,” He offers up, making you lift your gaze from busily tapping at your phone. Your gaze lands squarely on his navel — more so, how low his shorts sit on his hips and the way a soft trail of brown hair ventures from there to his bellybutton. 
Blinking, you find his face.
“Coffee machine’s broken, we can stop somewhere on the way to base if you like.” He leans down a little bit, like an awkward teenager shrinking away from a family picture. You lock your gaze on his, trying not to glance back down at his muscles. 
“Oh. That’s not broken — if you hit it hard enough, it’ll work.” You head right for him, fuzzy socks padding across the floor so softly that it really does startle him when you grab the copy of War and Peace that now sits on the kitchen counter, and slam the book right into the side of the coffee machine.
He whips around as the machine whirs to life. You set the book back down gently, and look up at him. He sets his jaw, brows knitted together, searching your face.
Maverick never taught Bradley anything like that. In fact — Bradley always, always was taught the opposite. You never take the easy way out; if something’s worth fixing, then you fix it right.
Then you, you on the other hand, beat the thing with the heaviest book you can find? He just doesn’t get it.
“Well. Thanks.” He guesses, turning his bemused expression back to the brewing coffee. 
He hadn’t been expecting you to do that. Doesn’t take a genius to figure that out, given the way he’s still glaring at the machine. That coffee pot is older than you are, and Mav never taught him that trick?
“So this guy, the one who called me,” You skim your fingers along the cool granite countertop, just to have something to do, “He was the guy calling the shots up there?”
Bradley blinks. He doesn’t know how much you know about the way all of this works. He knew everything there is to know long before he ever enlisted, but that was because he wanted to know.
“Um,” Bradley grabs his mug and takes a step back for you to get yourself one.  “He was our mission command so, kind of. He gives orders — but, y’know, everything happens fast, it’s… it’s hard to call the shots from back on the boat.” 
“Did he like Mav much?” You ask, head tucked inside the fridge door as you scan for anything to make your coffee a little less black. Nothing. A couple of beers and a block of good German cheese. You swing it shut with a resigned sigh, wondering if you’ll be here long enough to need groceries.
The thought flashes across your mind — what’ll happen to this place when you leave it behind?
“Uh... No, not really.” After a routine training presentation at the very beginning of their attachment, Admiral Simpson had once become so agitated by Maverick that he snapped his own reading glasses in half. Mav got a good laugh out of it, at least.
“Great.” Agitation creeps into your tone as you curl your fingers around a plain white coffee mug. All of his kitchenware is plain white. 
“What?” Bradley tilts his head, trying to catch a glimpse at the look on your face, stuck between whether you’re sad or pissed off.
It’s an easy answer, rolling off of your tongue with a shrug of your shoulders and a deflated sigh. “People usually put us in the same boat — if they don’t like him, they don’t like me.”
That’s something that he thinks he can understand. There’s not an instant dislike, but there’s a pity that he finds in the eyes of people who once knew his father. 
He screws his mouth up, shaking his head and reaching for you without thought. His palm claps against your shoulder, platonic and soothing, but the first time he has touched you nonetheless. “I’ll be there. He won’t say a thing.”
Glancing upward, while his palm lingers on your shoulder, your eyes flit across his features. He doesn’t know quite what you’re searching for, or whether you find it. His fingers squeeze softly against your skin before the touch is gone all together.
You drink your coffees in parallel, both subtly miserable in your silence but comfortable in it anyway. It’s difficult to prepare for a meeting like this — you don’t have a clue of what to expect. 
Bradley wears black jeans and boots with a plain white t-shirt, which convinces you not to wear the more formal dress you had thought you’d have to wear. You slip into his passenger seat in a skirt and Mary Janes.
He drives a loud, blue vintage Bronco. It sparkles inside and out, and makes your dusty old car look even worse. 
Bradley settles behind the wheel to the sound of chilled seventies music, the radio turned low. He drives with three fingers curled around the bottom of the wheel and the other hand resting absently on the stick shift.
Even though he seems calm enough behind the wheel, you watch him chew at the inside of his cheek for the duration of the drive. Gears tick away inside his head. His knee only stops bouncing nervously when it’s time to press his foot against the pedal.
He’s not as good at pretending as he thinks he is; you silently appreciate that he tries, either way.
Bradley, truthfully, spends the entire drive thinking about the last time he was face to face with Admiral Simpson. ‘Son, I’m doing this for you.’ He had sworn, face sullen, uttering the exact same words Pete Mitchell once had when delivering the words that had torn Bradley from him the first time.
Only, Admiral Simpson wasn’t pulling Bradley’s papers — he was just putting him on a month long bereavement leave. His protests had fallen on deaf ears once again, as they had fifteen years ago. He’s now a week into that leave, but it feels like longer.
It turns out that when you cut sleep from the equation, everything feels a lot longer. In his own apartment, his routine has been getting up at 2am after hours of tossing and turning, going for a run all the way down to the docks, coming back and showering, then waiting for the sun to rise.
Last night, he’d been awake in that creaky old twin bed, struck by the realisation that if he spent all night tossing and turning — one, he might actually break the old bed frame, and two, the squeaking of it would definitely keep you up. 
All it had taken was the focus of trying to sit still for so long to finally knock him out. It was the best that he’d slept since the mission.
He kind of hopes that it’ll take him a while to figure out something to do with your car; at least that way he’ll be able to sleep at night. 
“You ready?” His voice startles you from your daydream, the engine cutting out with a jingle of the keys as he stretches forwards in his seat to shove them into his pocket. “We’re headed just over there.”
“Yeah, let’s get this over with.” You’re stepping down and swinging the heavy door shut before you’re taking your next breath, leaving him to catch up to you. 
His long strides have him at your side before long, reaching ahead of you to pull open the glass door to the post headquarters. 
This process has already been easier with him at your side. He’d coolly handed over his service ID and greeted the guard at the gate by name, and he stops you from turning sharply down the wrong hallway with a soft bump of his shoulder against yours.
He catches your forearm as you try to blow right past the front desk, his grip loose but firm. 
“Rooster.” The woman behind the desk stands up sharply, looking sharp in her service khakis, her entire face creased with a deep worry. She’s older, maybe around Mav’s age. “I heard, I’m so sorry.”
Rooster loosens his hold on your forearm, his lips flattening into a line. He stands up straight, his interaction with the woman nothing if not totally polite. His thumb trails across the bend of your wrist as he nods his head towards you.
“Thank you,” He says softly, seemingly unaware of the way you’ve stiffened in the presence of this woman. “We’re, uh… we’re just here to see Cyclone, Lynn.”
Her warm, brown eyes whip towards you, widening. Recognition floods her features as she pieces together who you must be. 
Her boots hit the ground, your lips parting slightly as you realise that she’s headed right for you. Bradley feels your arm tug in his grip and turns his head, taking note of the way you’re trying to shrink behind him.
Lynn is a hugger by nature, and she was a good friend of Mav’s for a long time. She means well, but Bradley isn’t going to let her touch you when he can see how unnerved it makes you.
“We’re a little late. I’ll catch you at the O-Bar this weekend?” His fingers uncurl from your forearm and his palm falls flat between your shoulder blades, giving you a gentle nudge and silent permission to avoid her hug.
The woman stops and there’s another polite, departing exchange between the two of them while you continue down the hall.
Bradley catches up to you as you rap your knuckles against the doorframe, fingers trembling when they come to settle back against your thighs.
“Miss Mitchell.” A chair scrapes along the tiled floor, Cyclone’s signature rumbling voice carrying out into the hallway. His boots tap across the ground, his face creased with sincerity and his hand outstretched when he notices Bradley standing behind you. “Bradley Bradshaw.”
You check back over your shoulder, glancing briefly at the man behind you, who has assumed his best bodyguard impression. 
Standing tall, his uniform crisp and his greying black hair combed neatly, Admiral Beau Simpson slips his palm into yours and shakes your hand curtly. The sunlight catches on his shining name badge, his face heavy with lines and sharp angles.
Letting your hand go, he then reaches to your right to shake Bradley’s. Bradley’s chest bumps your back as he leans into the handshake.
You step away from him, angling yourself closer to the doorframe. “He just gave me a ride here. Is it okay if he comes in?” You answer.
“Of course,” Cyclone is far more polite to you than he has ever been to Bradley. “Anything you need. Please, take a seat.”
It feels a little bit wrong standing before his boss in jeans, and sitting before him. Everything about this feels a little bit wrong. Bradley rests his chin against his fist.
You sit in the chair beside him, shoving your trembling hands under your thighs, straightening up and trying to look as brave as you can. 
It shouldn’t be this stranger sitting beside you in this meeting — your mother should have come with you.
“Miss Mitchell,” The admiral takes his seat on the other side of his desk once again. “I want to first express my deepest condolences. Your father was a good man, and a… extremely skilled pilot.”
Bradley almost scoffs. Even now, Cyclone can’t manage to compliment him.
“We are forever grateful for his service, and the sacrifices he made on behalf of our country. I understand that this is an extremely difficult time, and I’d just like to say that I’m going to personally make sure that this process is as easy as it can possibly be.”
You blink at him. Jet engines rumble on outside of the window. People bustle on outside of the closed office door.
Cyclone glances towards Bradley. 
“When a man is lost in action, our resolve is to initiate a search and rescue effort as soon as possible,” The admiral explains, leaving out the part where that search and rescue effort had been delayed by seventy-two hours after Mav disappeared. “We’ve been working tirelessly, and our efforts to locate your father are ongoing.”
Your brows knit together.
“But— he’s dead.” You frown, rendering Cyclone suddenly quiet. “He’s got to be. It’s been a week. No food, no water, sub-zero temperature. What’s the point in looking?”
Bradley grits his teeth. He looks across at you, the muscle in his jaw ticking. There’s nothing in your expression, no fear or sadness. Your father deserved more than that.
“The point is to bring him home.” He bites from your side, staring straight ahead at Cyclone.
You shoot him a look. When it’s clear that you aren’t going to say anything else, Cyclone clears his throat to continue. 
“Miss Mitchell, we do have to prepare ourselves for the other outcome. If recovery efforts are unsuccessful, in two weeks time, he will be listed as formally ‘Missing in Action’. If that’s the case, we will honor him with a memorial service and all of his service records and personal effects 
are delivered to you.”
You drag your teeth across your bottom lip, swallowing hard and giving a small nod of your head.
“Okay. Two weeks?”
“This is going to be a longer process,” Cyclone warns you. He’d heard that you had come down specially for this, and he doesn’t want to mislead you about the time frame. “The recovery mission, if unsuccessful, will be suspended in two weeks’ time. After that, we’d like you to be local for the investigation.”
“Investigation?”
“Of ourselves. To ensure that the Navy had performed its due diligence, that kind of thing… I’d expect us to be here for a good few months.” He explains.
After that, it’s like Bradley can see a switch flip for you. 
You’re biting at the inside of your cheek so hard that you must be tasting copper, picking at the seam of your jeans and breathing like you’re trying not to cry.
He’s still confused when he’s all but chasing you across the parking lot, listening to you try to control your breathing.
“Hey, hey, hey,” He tries, approaching you cautiously as you crowd yourself against the passenger side of his car. “It’s alright. We’ll get through it, it’s just a couple of months.”
“I— fuck. I don’t want to be here. I-I— I’m going to have to find a job, and I’ll have to call my mom, and— and my friends, and—“
“Hey,” Bradley mumbles, resisting the instinct to throw his arms around you. His brows draw together as he reaches out and squeezes your bicep, bending his knees so he can catch your eye. “It’s alright. I’ll take care of it.”
You know that he’s just trying to be nice, but really, you’re sick of nice. It’s all that Maverick ever was and it left you with no idea of who he really is. “Of what? There’s so much that I have to—“
He nods, closing his mouth, swallowing dryly. Thinking of what he can, feasibly, take off of your plate for you. The idea sparks in him.
“You need a job. I can get you a job. Um, your friends, we can call them and bring them down for a weekend?” He squeezes again at your bicep, nodding his way through his plans, trying to will the tears in your eyes not to spill over.
You sniff, turning your gaze towards the ground. The lump in your throat burns and bobs as you try to swallow it away. 
Mav really is never coming back.
“I don’t want to go back to his house.” It comes out as a whimper, and really just reminds Bradley that you’re in the same position that he was when he was just a little younger than you. It’s a scared kid type of feeling, being all alone in the world. Being in an empty house had made it even worse.
He licks his lips and glances towards the skies, watching the sun pass behind a cloud. 
“You could stay at my place, for a night or two.” 
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