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#Also when they were young I made the same joke that he would be a lil Polly pocket house toy ya can shove in yer pocket
i2ycat · 3 days
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— the ‘us’ theory
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pairing sunoo x fem!reader synopsis after years of no contact, a sudden rekindling in your relationship with sunoo makes sparks soar higher than they’ve ever gone. it’s hard not to see just how much you missed being around your old best friend again genre slight angst, fluff, friends to lovers, college au word count 4.3k (was only supposed to be arnd 600, idk what happened LOL) warnings wrote this on 1% brain cells so please excuse if it seems like the plot is underdeveloped and pacing is weird, i know nothing ab mortal kombat, semi-proofread main masterlist
reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!
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You’ve known Sunoo since forever. From the moment you took your first baby step to the moment you got absolutely hammered by another girl in your grade, Sunoo had been right by your side, from kindergarten all the way to primary school.
It was weird not to see your brooding self beside the beaming boy, seeing as you guys never separated from each other for even a second. It made your parents think the both of you had separation anxiety, always throwing tantrums whenever the other wasn’t around.
But that was only until primary school.
By the time secondary school rolled around, you naturally started to drift apart. Being in the year above him, he stuck to his own group of friends, while you had yours. You had easily accepted the course that your relationship with Sunoo was headed off to, wanting to fit in with the rest of your ‘ew juniors’-minded clique so badly, because who hung out with juniors anyways?
It didn’t help that, not soon after, your father was stationed to a different department of the company on the other side of the world. You felt sad leaving everything you knew behind, all the familiar places, but you were also 13 and ready to be anywhere but the place you had been confined to. It felt exhilarating to finally leave everything behind — not that you had much to begin with. It’s always been just your mother, your father, and you.
Sunoo was out of the conversation by the time you turned 16. He became just someone you’d remember in passing; your parents bringing him up every now and then, but you never dwelled on the thought of him for too long.
By the time you were 19, you could barely remember what he even looked like, given that you'd only seen up until his pre-puberty phase: toothy grins, chubby cheeks, and all.
So imagine your shock when a taller, more mature shell of a man presents himself in front of you, claiming to be the Kim Sunoo you’ve already forgotten all about.
“Don’t you remember me? I’m Kim Sunoo!”
You met him by complete chance.
The last time you heard of Sunoo was when your mom broke the news on a random Sunday night that the Kim family would be permanently moving to Japan, and that was three years ago.
“Cmon, I’ve known you for, like, 13 years.” He clicks his tongue.
“Yeah, I guessed. I’m just shocked to see you here.”
“What? Is seeing a young man shopping for groceries so hard to believe?” He jokes, taking a pack of ramen noodles from the shelf and placing it carefully into his cart.
“It’s not that.” You chuckle. “I thought you moved to Japan?”
“Well, I can’t really be leeching off my parents forever.”
He’s got more wit to him than you remember.
“Right,” You quickly reply, unconsciously walking the rest of the noodles and pasta aisle at the same pace that he is.
“Wow, even after all these years, you’re still the same old Y/n I used to know.” He smiles at you, the apples of his cheeks tinting a light pink under the blindingly white LED lights overhead. It suddenly brought you back to times of playing together in the playground after school, the summer rays rendering the both of you sweaty messes while your mothers talked about adult gossip somewhere in the distance. The simpler times, when fitting into social circles barely even mattered yet.
“Am I supposed to be offended?” As you arrive closer to the snack aisle, you start to grab at items not scribbled on your sad excuse of a grocery list. You should really stop doing that; you mentally chide yourself.
“Maybe. Depends on how you take it.” He shrugs. “Doritos?” You shake your head.
Silence starts to permeate the air between the both of you, save for some random Nirvana tune playing faintly in the background. It wasn’t awkward per se, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either; rather, it sat right in the middle.
You’ve known Sunoo for 13 whole years of your younger adolescent days, but right now, it feels like you’ve just met him for the first time. Technically you are, after a few years that is, but maybe it was just you and your ineptitude for social interactions. Chae was right, you really should socialize with people more.
A beat or two passes by, “Are you free tomorrow by any chance?” Sunoo turns to you, bright eyes boring into yours.
“Why?”
“I just moved here like a week ago, and I have absolutely no friends.” He pouts, “Mind giving an old friend company on his own birthday?”
“It’s your birthday?” You stop in your tracks.
“Tomorrow, yeah.”
“Okay. Just send me the address.” You take out your phone to hand him, “You’re not just about to lure and kill me right?”
“Now why would I do that?” He lifts his eyebrows at you as he keys in his phone number, naming himself ‘no.1 childhood best friend’ in the process.
“You can never be too sure nowadays.”
“Yeah, as if I would kill my only friend in this entire city.” He retorts, fingers brushing yours ever-so-slightly as he hands you back your phone.
Seeing the bare-bones state that Sunoo’s box apartment was in made you feel for him. You’d already spent your early teens adjusting to the chaos that New York was, and you’ve acclimated to it by now, with the help of your parents, of course, but Sunoo, on the other hand? He came completely alone, with a singular suitcase in tow. It ignited a sense of protectiveness towards him. The same way it was when you were younger.
Sunoo was always one of the more smaller and younger children in the kindergarten, but that only made him more loved by the teachers and other caretakers. Memories resurfaced of how everyone would coo whenever Sunoo showed his signature smile, silently wishing they had a kid as endearing as Sunoo. They’d bring extra just for him, and Sunoo, being the sweet kid he was, basked in all of it blissfully.
The rest of the older kids didn’t like how Sunoo hogged all the adult’s attention, so they would constantly pick at him during play time, behind the knowledge of the teachers. Since you were a year older and much taller than Sunoo then, you always felt the instinctive need to step in and protect him from all of it, even getting sucker punched in the face for him one time. You chuckle at the distinct memory of Sunoo crying in the sidelines whilst you laid on the mat, a comically large bandage plastered on your cheek.
“What’s so funny?” Sunoo sticks his head out from the cupboard, eyeing your figure on the couch.
“I’m laughing at the fact that you at least have a couch.” You pat the space next to you.
“Hey, you can’t judge. I just moved here, and I don’t know where anything is anymore.” He says this as he pours room-temperature orange juice into plastic cups. “Happy birthday to me.” He sighs, handing you one.
“This is actually really sad.” You take a single sip out of the clear cup before setting it down on the arm of Sunoo’s sofa that was more like a loveseat if anything. “And I’m not just talking about the orange juice.”
“At least I’m not alone!”
“Why’d you move here anyway? I’m sure there’s better places than big ole overpriced New York.” You bring up a leg to get comfortable, and Sunoo does the same, his knee lightly grazing yours in the process.
“You wouldn’t wanna hear it.” He sighs.
“No, tell me!”
“It’s stupid.”
“I won’t judge. Pinky promise.” You bring your pinky rings towards his, locking them.
“I actually moved here for you.” He says it so softly that you thought you had misheard.
“Sorry, I think I misheard.”
“Nah, I think you heard correctly.” He bends down to grab a forkful of noodles, the one he bought yesterday, and moans gleefully at the bundles of flavour exploding in his mouth, “Woah. I think this might be my new favourite ramen.”
“Wait, you’re not being serious, are you?” Sunoo shakes his head at you, his cheeks blowing up as noodles enter his mouth, strand by strand. “Are you stupid?” You completely drop the smile you had been sporting just a minute ago, beyond baffled by Sunoo’s lack of critical thinking.
“Gosh, Sunoo! What would you have done if I hadn’t run into you last night? What if I already moved to a different state? A different country even?!”
“My mom is still in contact with yours, so I’m pretty sure I would’ve ended up at your front door anyway." He nonchalantly answers, shrugging his shoulders the way he always does.
You’ve completely forgotten how Sunoo was always the free spirit in your dynamic, doing anything and everything he wanted without ever thinking about the after. He always downplayed the severity of the consequences, only thinking about the moment and living in it blissfully.
Just a few days prior to your drift apart, Sunoo had dragged you out of your 6th grade classroom just before recess ended and towards the outdoor basketball court. A little mat had been planted on the grass, with what you could recognise as Sunoo’s lunch box set neatly on top.
He had asked you to skip class with him, a kind of celebration on the last day of school. Thanks to him, you were absolutely horrified to come home that day, while him, on the other hand, was not the slightest bit concerned.
“Why? Just why? We haven’t talked for, what, 6 years? And suddenly you move 13 hours away from home to be in the same city that I am?” You were fuming, and for a reason you weren’t too sure about yourself.
Maybe it was the knowledge that he had been thinking about you even after your drift apart, while you were not. Maybe it was the guilt of being the one to instigate the drift in the first place, but he still made his way towards you.
“I’m not too sure either.” He places the chopsticks on the makeshift coffee table. “But at least you’re here, and I’m not alone on my birthday.” He offers you a cheeky grin, one that reaches his eyes, and it almost instantly gives you whiplash.
“You’re driving me crazy here, Sunoo.”
“You said you wouldn’t judge and… it’s still my birthday, ya’know.” He pouts, cocking his head to the side in an attempt to soothe your bubbling anger with his biggest weapon — his face. “Can you stop being your practical self for just a second?” His tone was light, and his eyes were pleading.
He probably still remembered your weakness for pretty faces, and was taking advantage of that at the most convenient of times.
Damn Sunoo and damn pretty privilege.
After Sunoo’s semi-successful birthday party—his words, not yours—he’s been sticking to you like glue. He practically lives in your apartment with how much time he spends there. Even when you’re out for classes or errands, he'll take it upon himself to make himself feel at home. You practically spent every second of every day with him, just like it used to be when you were younger.
Your mother was overly ecstatic to find out that you had rekindled your friendship with Sunoo — almost so ecstatic in fact that it alarmed you just a tad bit, scared that she might try to set you up with her best friend’s only son.
She had even suggested that the both of you live together to save costs, she says. You weren’t entirely sold on that fact, seeing as you still wanted your semblance of privacy and freedom in your own home, but with the rising rent prices these days, it wasn’t really a choice now, was it?
“My mother says we should move in together.” You say this over a plate of scrambled eggs, one that Sunoo had so graciously offered to cook.
“I’m sorry?” Sunoo chokes on his cup of black tea.
“I mean, our dynamic is pretty good. You finish things that I don’t. I say it’s a pretty good match.”
Over the course of the last few months that you’ve been on-off living with Sunoo, you learned that he has a habit of picking up things that you’ve left aside to be forgotten. One instance of this was when you found your incomplete knitting project in Sunoo’s more nimble hands, working away while on his spot on your couch.
He explained that seeing things unfinished was a big pet peeve of his, and it usually works in your favour anyway.
“Yeah, but what about my apartment?”
“You say that as if you don’t basically already live here.” You pick up a piece of egg with your fork to bring it to your mouth.
“I guess, yeah, but..." His words trail off. “Never mind.”
“But what, Sun?”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head, taking a big gulp of his tea before setting the cup back down onto your wooden table, the one Sunoo had picked alongside some other furniture pieces that now scattered your flat.
“You better give up that act now because you know how stubborn I can get.” You peg the fork at him in a faux effort to assert intimidation. Not that you could be any more intimidating with your furrowed eyebrows and grim expression.
“It’s just...”
“Just?”
Sunoo ultimately sighs, picking up his plate to bring to the sink and turning his back towards you. “I would love to live together, really." He starts off. “But what if you bring other guys over? I don’t think I could handle that.”
“That’s it? You’re flattering me by even thinking I can pull guys.” You laugh as you make your way towards Sunoo with an empty plate in your hands. “Sun, there’s nothing to worry about, but I’ll make sure to let you know beforehand if I ever do.”
“That’s not what I was implying.” Sunoo keeps his voice low and whisper-like, almost like he doesn’t want you to hear, but you do anyway.
“Okay, then what do you mean?”
“I’m saying that I think I like you.” He takes a deep breath, finding it hard to formulate words from his thoughts. “I... I just... When we were 13, when we started drifting apart, I felt so lost and confused. I didn’t want to be like those movie cliches, losing my best friend because of high school or whatever.” He doesn’t look up from the dishes in front of him; instead, he focuses on mindlessly scrubbing the mug.
“I followed you here because, even after six long years, you were still my number one. I missed your presence. I always wondered when you would contact me again, but that never happened. I guess I was also too scared to talk to you first, so that’s that.” He continues. “I don’t want to burden you with my feelings any more than they already are, and if we officially, actually lived together, I don’t think my heart could handle all that.”
To say you were speechless was an understatement. You stared at him long enough to see dots, and yet you couldn’t think of anything to say.
Sunoo liked you. The little boy from kindergarten that you promised to protect liked you. Your best friend up until you were 13 liked you?
“Sun...” You start off but can never seem to find a proper end to your sentence.
“You don’t have to answer me right now. Or, as a matter of fact, you don’t even have to accept it. I just thought you should know since you proposed we live together.” He washes the foam away, setting the clean dishes on the drying rack. “I’ll take my leave now.” He smiles at you, and by the time the door closes behind him, you’re still standing frozen.
You don’t know what to do with this information. Yeah, Sunoo was cute, and you had a soft spot for him, but that doesn’t mean you like him. He grew up well, but that doesn’t mean you no longer saw him as the boy you needed to protect from the world. It was all a clash of thoughts, really.
A week had gone by since you texted Sunoo back, saying that you needed space to think. But you weren’t really using the time to think at all; you were actually doing quite well at doing the exact opposite.
“Chae, come on! That’s cheating!” You yell, aggressively pressing away at the console for your Omni-Man to dodge Kung Lao’s wrath.
“No, you just suck.” Chae sticks her tongue out at you. And after a few moments of tense silence, “Aaaand, K.O!” She cheers in your face while you pan at the bold K.O. letterings on the screen in admission of defeat.
“I’ll beat you next time.”
“Oh baby, there won’t be a next time until you sort out whatever it is you’re worrying about first.” She takes the console from your hands and sets it back in its original place under the divider of her TV set. “Now, talk to me.” She says this as she takes a seat beside you.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Yeah, sure, as if you're coming here at 1 a.m. on a Wednesday night, even when you have classes tomorrow, is because of nothing.”
“I just couldn’t sleep. That’s all.”
“I’m going to go bald from all the stress you’re giving me.” She tugs harshly at her shoulder-length hair. “See this?!”
Your laugh echoes in Chaewon’s humble apartment, which overlooks the entirety of New York with the perfect view — one that her life as a social media influencer is able to afford. At times like these, you felt like you were her sugar baby, leeching off her big-time success like the broke college student you are.
“You’re being overly dramatic.”
"Yeah, and sometimes I wish you were more like me. Give me the damn drama!” She drapes herself all over you, head resting on your bare legs.
“Okay, fine!”
“Good.” She finally grins, taking a bag of popcorn from the table and tossing it into her mouth one by one, occasionally offering one to you.
“You remember Sunoo?”
“The one you cried about when you first met me?”
“I wasn’t crying!”
“Yeah, sure you weren’t.” She grimaces at you.
“Okay, but that was when I was 14, so it doesn’t count.”
“Whatever, whatever. Just continue!” Chaewon switches her position to comfortably sit face-to-face with you, her eyes wide and full of anticipation.
“A few months ago, I met him at the supermarket, the one you tell me to never go to.”
“What?! And you’re only telling me this now?!” Her voice was piercing, and it made your ears almost bleed onto her velvet-carpeted floor. Judging from her reaction, she was probably more concerned about the fact that you went to the only supermarket in the city she told you not to ever step foot into, rather than not having told her about your meeting with Sunoo there.
“Just let me finish, yeah?” Chaewon quips out a small apology before you continue, “And after that, we started hanging out here and there, ya'know, the whole old childhood friends shebang. It was great, honestly. He’s great company, and as you said, I was socialising with other people!”
“But?”
“How’d you know there’s a ‘but’?”
“There is always a ‘but’, my dear Y/n.”
You clear your throat. “He confessed to me just a week ago, after I had proposed to live together, ya'know, to save on costs.”
“You, what now?”
“Not everyone is as rich as you are, Chae; we grass-rooted people need to save money somehow.”
“You know that’s not what I meant!”
“Ugh, it’s stupid, I know! But my mother suggested it, and I was like, ‘Oh, that’s a good idea!’” At this point, the bag of popcorn lays haphazardly on the floor, forgotten as you contemplate all your decisions with Chaewon clinging onto your side, koala style.
“Do you like him back?”
“I haven’t really thought about it before then.” You honestly say, “He has always just been ‘the younger boy who needs protecting’ to me.”
“He’s his own grown person now, Y/n.” She reminds you.
“I know. I just think he’s cute, is all.”
“How about this? You give him a chance to try and swoon you over; if it doesn’t work out, then you guys can pretend as if nothing ever happened!” She claps her hands together, as if she had just won a Nobel Prize for solving global warming. “You’re killing two birds with one stone!”
“I don’t think that’s how the saying is supposed to work.”
"Oh, who gives a fuck? YOLO.”
Chaewon’s advice to just yolo the fuck out of everything sticks to you more than you’d like to admit. It echoes in your mind when you’re taking the subway all the way to Sunoo’s apartment, echoes even louder as you stand in front of his door, and echoes almost deafeningly as you knock twice on it.
In about half a heartbeat, Sunoo opens his door with an urgency you could barely register in your haze of emotions. You felt bad after having practically ghosted him for a week straight after his confession, and even worse now that you could tell he was losing sleep over it. His hair was tousled into a mess that made it seem as if he had just gotten out of bed, even if it was already 3 p.m.
“Hey.” You greet, your lips pursed into a tight smile.
“Hey.” He greets her back.
“Can I come in? Or, is it a bad time? I’m not really too sure why I came in the first place.”
“Yeah, yeah. Come in.” He steps aside to make space for you to enter his home.
The last time you’ve been here was the night after you first met him — the day of his birthday. It’s less barren than you remembered, with pops of colour in random corners that somehow represented his sporadic personality perfectly.
“I see you finally did some decorating.”
“I mean, it’s already been more than a few months since I’ve moved here; it’d be weird if I didn’t.” His voice is groggy and still laced with sleep, but you don’t comment on it, instead sucking in a deep breath.
“I wanted to, um, get back to you.” You play with your fingers, picking at the skin. “And, uh, give you an answer. Well, it’s not really an answer, but you get what I mean.”
“Yeah.”
The both of you still stood just beyond his doorway; the faint playing of the TV in the background didn’t help to ease your racing heart. In your two years of being a young adult, you hadn’t found the opportunity to really sit down and find love, given that school had always been your top priority. So when you find yourself in such situations—not that you ever do—you're rendered a blubbering mess.
You’ve practiced this many times before with Chaewon, but it feels even more nerve-wracking now that the man in all his drowsy glory is standing right in front of you.
“We can try.” You start off. “I mean it as in, you can try courting me or whatever, and if it doesn’t work out, we can pretend as if nothing ever happened.” His lack of reply gives you time to really take a good look at Sunoo, now that the weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You’ve said what you wanted to say.
At an arm's-length distance, Sunoo is the textbook definition of attractive. He’s a head taller than you, has broad shoulders, and has a pretty face. His lips were full, his nose was tall, and his eyes were a golden brown colour. What was not to like about him? You just had to accept that he was no longer the Kim Sunoo from kindergarten. He was no longer the same young Sunoo who constantly needed your help.
“Really? You’d let me court you?” His face is bright with hope, and you nod to it wordlessly. “As in, you’d let me take you out on dates and stuff?”
You can’t help the chuckle that lets out, especially endeared by his enthusiasm. “Yes, Sun.”
BONUS!
It has been exactly a year since Sunoo had courted and officially asked you out. It wasn’t hard to fall for him because you already had an inkling that you had unresolved feelings for him anyway. The moving in part went as smoothly as it could, save for the slight mishap with Sunoo’s landlord, but with the help of your mother, everything was resolved soon after.
Sunoo lays peacefully on the sofa, soaking in the sunshine that filters through the blinds. He was practically in heaven right now.
“Kim Sunoo!” Your voice reverberates throughout the entirety of your shared apartment.
“Uh-oh, not the government name.” Sunoo looks up from his phone to see you standing in the hallway, hand tucked under your arms, with an expression that reminded him slightly of the French bulldog he’d seen on his morning walk. “Yes, baby?”
“Don’t ‘baby’ me! You let Luna sleep on the bed after she had her walk?!”
“Oh.”
“Oh!” You mimic him.
“I’m sorry, baby. She looked so sad sleeping on the floor by herself, so I just invited her to the bed.”
“Yeah, now her paw prints are all over the white sheets! Couldn’t you have at least cleaned her before you decided to do that?” As if Luna had heard her parents arguing from inside the room, she waddles out, footsteps padding down on the wooden floor, making it her mission to soothe her parents with just her existence alone.
Luna barks, grabbing both of your attention. You immediately lean down to pick Luna up, cooing at her before glaring at Sunoo, “You better wash the sheets.”
Sunoo stares at the both of you, dumbfounded. He thought he saw Luna smirking at him, so he blinked once and then twice, only for you and your baby to disappear as you walked towards the bathroom, your voice echoing as you continued to baby-talk to Luna.
Even with your overbearing practicality and new spoiled baby to take care of, he’d never regret asking his mom about you that one fateful night.
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© i2ycat 2024 idk why the first half got me thinking i was gonna write a murder mystery fic HELPP. i swear it’s just romance 😞 also this is straight dogwater, i’m so sorry idk what i was writing…
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nebbyy · 2 days
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Random question. Do you think Baldwin would like puppies or kittens better
King Baldwin - Cats or dogs?
A/N: Mmmmh hard one, took me almost half a day to think about it😭😭 Loved the idea though, I think that this question and the reasoning behind its answer tell a lot about a person.
Couldn't find the name of the painting this time but the painter is by Henriette Ronner-Knip!!
Warning: puppies, but mostly kitties. Jokes aside I took the liberty of adding some historical inaccurate facts about cats' presence in medieval castles just to make the story more fit to my taste (not like historical accuracy is really the point of a fanfic but you get my point).
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I'm still really torn but I'd say that it depends on which time of his life that question is asked
If it's during his childhood and first youth, he'd say dogs with no hesitation. They're great companions and so full of life, he'd love to bring a few with him during his hunting trips. He would see his own sprout of energy mirrored in his pawed companions! I see him as owning at least two of them, maybe even more (having almost a pack of dogs was pretty much the norm in noble families)
Dogs are also perceived better by Christian society, as there were quite a few theologists who believed that cats where somehow tied to unholiness or even the devil himself
But as time goes by and his condition worsens, he can't bring himself to stand for so long, let alone play with the dogs or take them out while he rides his horse
He feels bad, though, at the sound of their whines as his servants shoo them out of his bedroom, while he lays motionlessly on his huge bed (in which he usually let them lay while he rested, much to his servants' dismay)
And it is right as he's left laying there, alone and with an aching heart at the loss of his dear friends, that he for the first time notices the gentle meow of his physician's cat. He never really acknowledged his existence, for he always seemed to make it his mission to be as invisible to the people in the room as possible
The cat looked him with mil interest: of course, he knew him, but Baldwin couldn't say the same. He had been silently studying the young king, as his master tended to his everlasting wounds, or as he distracted himself form his duties with a game of chess. All while Baldwin didn't even know that the cat was in the room in the first place
Their exchanged stare didn't last long, because soon the cat jumped swiftly on the bed, waggling his tail like an enchanted snake as he made a few steps on top of the covers
He inspects the space, undisturbed by Baldwin who can't bring himself to make even the slightest movement because of how exhausted his sickness makes him
Finally, the cat seems to find a spot to his liking, right on the spot between Baldwin's side and arm, which is splayed on the side of the bed
The cat makes a few circles before snuggling close to his clothed side, resting his head on his own tail and quietly purring himself to sleep, soon followed by the king himself
That was their first official encounter, one that changed Baldwin's answer at the question "cats or dogs"
He also came to find that apparently there were far more cats in palace
In his late years, he found in those cats a silent and delicate company, it created a space in which he could let go of everything and just bask into the presence of those little balls of fur
And they are so agile and elegant in their movements, he enjoys watching them move around his room, jumping from a surface to the other like it's nothing; he feels like he can move and live through them
And he misses them oh so badly when they leave his chamber to go hunt for food or to simply explore the palace, but as they happily walk back in his room and curl up to rest all over his bed and desk, he almost feels like they're telling him all they've seen during the day simply through their eyes
And that is how Baldwin IV was born a dog person, only to die surrounding his death bed with cats
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candycandy00 · 23 hours
Text
Roses in the Sky - An Original Alien x Reader Story Part 7
In a future where humanity huddles in decaying domed cities controlled by alien invaders, you and your best friend Anna work as make-shift nurses in a tiny clinic run by the young doctor Terrian. The city is ruled by the aliens' violent, half-breed offspring who serve as brutal overseers. You and Anna have always tried to avoid these overseers at all cost, but your life is changed when one of those same terrifying offspring is brought into the clinic, injured and unconscious.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
This is an original Alien (well half alien) x Fem Reader story! I hope everyone who enjoys my fanfiction will give this a shot! Any feedback whatsoever would be loved! I’ve already written this story so it’s not going to delay my fanfics. Just thought I might post chapters of this between fanfics if anyone is interested.
Slow burn, as this is a novel-length story, but there will be smut in later chapters! Also: violence, blood, rape attempts, death of side characters, etc.
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Terrian was standing in a chair changing a light bulb when you reached the first upstairs bedroom. He was wearing jeans and a plaid button-up shirt that clung to his body. His feet were bare, and it was the first time you had ever seen him without his hair pulled back. With his glasses off, lying folded on the bed, and his hair falling across his shoulders, he almost looked like something from the cover of a romance novel. You were surprised that he could be so handsome.
When he noticed you, he jumped down from the chair and grinned, instantly shattering the previous image as he was missing a few front teeth, a result of the attack on the clinic, and suddenly looked very ridiculous. He pulled on his glasses and reached for a package on the bedside table. He reached it to you with a wide smile.
You opened it and reached your hand in, pulling out the pieces one at a time and laying them across the bed. Among them was a short black skirt with white ruffles underneath and a small black top with white lace trim. There were black stockings, white gloves, and a black choker-style necklace.
"Go ahead, try it on!" Terrian said brightly.
You gave him a dirty look. "It's disgusting."
"It's adorable! Didn't you see how cute Anna looked?"
"You're such a pervert,” you said, rolling your eyes at him. 
"Oh, come on. Give an old man something pretty to look at while he bides his time."
You frowned. "You're twenty-nine."
Terrian laughed and exited the room, shutting the door behind him. You locked it, then changed into the costume. It really wasn't as bad as you and Anna made it seem. In fact it actually was cute. But complaining endlessly about the uniforms he picked out was just another way to joke around. Another way to keep your minds from thinking about the world around you.
You walked outside, where Terrian and Anna were waiting in the hall. Terrian practically squealed with delight when you emerged, hugging you tightly.
"So what do we have to do?" you asked, shoving Terrian away.
He handed you and Anna each a sheet of paper. "That's your list of chores. Do them together or split up, it's up to you. Just finish it by the end of the day!"
You groaned as you looked over the list. It was huge and full of lengthy tasks. The two of you decided to do the work together, and as you scrubbed down the bathroom walls, you told Anna about Vartan.
Anna dropped the rag she was holding. "So he's staying at your house? Sleeping on your couch?!"
"Yeah."
"And you're okay with that?"
You stopped working. "I don't have much choice, do I? You said it yourself, we owe him big time. He came to me for help. I couldn't just make him leave."
"That's true. But be careful, he's still dangerous."
"He, uh, promised not to do anything to me,” you said. 
Anna's eyes widened. "Seriously?"
"Yeah," you replied, "and he explained why half-breeds are such hormonal monsters. Turns out they're not allowed to mate with each other, and they were raised to believe that all humans want is sex."
"Wow. That does explain a lot."
You picked up Anna's rag and reached it to her, then picked your own up and returned to scrubbing the wall. "Anyway, I guess he'll be staying with me for a while."
Anna was still watching you. "Are you falling in love with him?"
You faced her. "Of course not! He's a half-breed!"
"But he's different. Haven't you noticed? He acts almost human."
"Yeah, maybe," you answered, focusing on the wall again. You had noticed, but you were trying not to think too much about it. He could turn on you at any moment, and you’d only be hurt if you’d started to think of him as human. 
The day carried on and the two of you worked hard, cleaning and scrubbing and dusting. In the afternoon Terrian called you to the kitchen where he gave you and Anna lunch. You explained the situation with Vartan, and all he had told you, to Terrian.
"You don't seem very surprised," you said when Terrian had little reaction to your story.
He laughed nervously. "Oh, it's very surprising. I just didn't know what to say."
You and Anna looked at each other suspiciously, but then shrugged and returned to your work. You made your way through the upstairs bedrooms, and at the end of the hall came to a set of stairs leading to the third story of Terrian's house. Anna looked over the sheet of paper. "The third floor isn't on the list. I don't think we have to clean it."
"Maybe he just forgot to write it down," you said.
"Or maybe he doesn't want us up there."
You looked at Anna. "Why not? You think he has secrets?"
Both you and Anna stared at each other for a moment before grinning. "Okay, we have to go up there now!" Anna said, starting up the stairs. You glanced back down the hall to make sure Terrian wasn't around, then followed Anna.
The third floor was dark and dusty, and all the doors were shut. They looked as if they'd been closed off for years. You felt a tiny bit guilty for exploring an area he hadn't told you to enter, but then again, he hadn't specifically told you not to go up there either. Suddenly Anna nudged you.
"Look, there's light coming from under that door."
The very last door on the right side of the hall was closed, but indeed there was light visible beneath it. The two of you crept up to the door quietly and pressed your ears against it. You listened for a moment, hearing nothing.
Before another second passed, a feminine voice from the other side of the door said, "Terrian?"
You jumped back, looking at Anna in shock. She wore a similar expression. You nodded to her, and Anna slowly twisted the doorknob. She then flung the door open and both of you peered inside. You gasped, your hands over your mouth.
In a bed in the center of the room laid an incredibly beautiful half-breed. Her hair was auburn, hanging long in soft waves that dangled from the sides of the bed. One eye was aqua blue and the other was so dark brown it seemed black. She was dressed in a pink frilly night gown, something Terrian had obviously chosen. But the horrifying part was that from the knees down, she had no legs. There was an iv hooked up to her right wrist, and she looked frighteningly weak.
Her eyes grew large when she saw you and Anna. She reached a hand toward you, and the two of you shrieked as you dashed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind you. As you ran back to the second floor, you faintly heard a small voice calling for you to wait.
You and Anna stood on the second floor, panting. "Who was that?!" you asked, still unable to get over the shock.
"It was a half-breed, but she looked so weak! Do you think Terrian is holding her prisoner here?"
You shook your head. "No, he's not like that! He always makes excuses for half-breeds. He wouldn't hurt a flea!"
Anna had flopped down into a sitting position on the stairs leading to the first floor. "We think that, but what if we're wrong? What if she's the half-breed who killed his father or something? What if he captured her and he's performing experiments on her to learn about half-breeds and ultimately take revenge?"
Your hands were on the sides of your head, clutching your hair. "And what if, now that we've seen her, he'll kill us to make sure we never tell?!"
Terrian stepped into view at the bottom of the stairs and looked up at them. "What are you girls talking about?"
Anna jumped up and eyed him nervously. "Nothing," she said, "we're not talking about anything."
"Oh? But I thought I heard-"
You took a deep breath. "Anna, we should tell him. She'll tell him anyway if we don't."
Terrian's eyes widened. "She?"
"We saw her," Anna said, looking down.
"Her?" Terrian asked, sweat beads forming on his brow.
"The half-breed," you answered. "The one you keep on the third floor."
Terrian paled and gripped the railing on the stairs. "Oh... God... you really saw her?"
"I'm sorry!" Anna said. "We shouldn't have gone to the third floor without asking you! We promise we won't tell anyone!"
"Yeah, we'll never breathe a word of it to another soul!" you cried.
Terrian suddenly seemed to regain his composure, and he began walking up the stairs, his eyes downcast. "Well, it's too late now. You've seen her."
You and Anna looked at each other in horror, then watched as he approached. You flinched when he reached you, but he simply walked on by, toward the stairs leading to the third floor. He turned to look at you over his shoulder. "Come on up, we'll explain everything."
"We?" you asked.
"Nariah and I.”
You glanced at Anna again before the two of you slowly, cautiously followed him back up the stairs. You ended up back in the room you had found the half-breed in, and she looked up brightly when you entered the room. "Oh, Terrian, so you know they found me," she said.
He nodded, smiling to her. "It's alright. They won't tell anyone about us."
He looked back to you. "This is Nariah," he said, gesturing toward the half-breed. "And Nariah, these are my nurses. Well, maids now."
Nariah smiled. "I'm glad to finally meet you. Terrian has told me so much about you two."
You were stunned. Anna was speechless. 
You struggled to find words, finally asking, “Terrian, what is she doing here?"
He sat down on the edge of the bed and took Nariah's hand. The casualness of it all made you feel dizzy. "I found her in an alley two years ago," he began. "A group of half-breeds had torn off her legs and left her there to die. My first instinct was to walk away and pretend I hadn't seen her. One less half-breed to worry about, right? Back then, I was still bitter. But something told me to help her. I secretly brought her to my home and bandaged her wounds. She was unconscious for three days, but when she awoke, she explained her situation."
Nariah took over from there. "I got into an argument with several of my kind, and they called me a traitor. They intended for me to die in the alley, and I feared that if they ever found me alive, they'd immediately kill me. That's why, when Terrian offered to let me stay here with him, I accepted."
"Nariah isn't like other half-breeds," Terrian told you, "Well, she was at first, but over the past two years she's become so much more human than Pagoda. I hardly think of her as a half-breed anymore. To me, she's just a lady who needs caring for."
Nariah smiled up at him, and to you they resembled a couple who had been married for years. 
Anna's hands were shaking. "That's why you always defend their behavior," she said accusingly. "That's why you feel more comfortable around them. You've been living with one all this time."
"Anna," Terrian started, but Nariah placed a hand on his arm to stop him.
"Terrian has told me much about you, Anna. He told me you're a strong, courageous girl who has survived many horrors. I don't know the details, but I know you were hurt by my kind. I'm sorry for what you've been through. But Terrian has been hurt by those like me as well. At first, he didn't trust me. I didn't trust him. He only tended to me when it was necessary to keep me alive. But the more we talked, the more we came to understand each other. He has taught me much about humans, and I understand now how wrong I was in the past. Please forgive me. Please forgive Terrian for keeping such a secret."
Anna stared at her, her frown melting slowly away. "No, I'm sorry. It's none of my business anyway."
She turned and left the room. You glanced back at Terrian and Nariah, who looked worried. "I'll talk to her," you told them, heading for the door, "And it was nice to meet you, Nariah."
You made your way through the hallway and down the stairs to the second floor. Sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall was Anna, her face buried in her knees and her body shaking with sobs.
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kafkasmuses · 4 months
Text
lace garters
words : 3,903
tags : 18+!!! mdni! escorts , sex work , reader ! sex worker , vaginal sex , finger fucking , finger sucking , porn with feelings , brothels , oral sex , save a horse ride a whattt
p.s : this is also posted on my ao3!! ( divider by siren4u & gif by drewstarkrs )
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billy was a virgin, surprisingly, he didn’t have time for a girlfriend, and the quick fucks from the escorts never enticed him much. many offered, when he would stop quick at towns for a simple beer or to take care of things— he would typically get stopped by the escorts dressed in their gorgeous silks, tight corsets, and sleeves that fall off their shoulders so easily it has your fingers itching with desire to fix it. it would make even the most sane man turn mad, and somehow billy never allowed himself to fall for it. 
not until now, an escort stops him before he walks in a bar, “how old are you, dear?” 
“19, ‘bout to turn 20,” his voice is smooth and sweet, southern drawl sweeping out with ease. 
the girl hums out, tipping out of the way to allow his eyes to another girl standing far behind her, you, “you’re too young for me, dear, you should talk to her. she can show you a good time.”
typically billy would say no, offer a few coins for their efforts and simply walk into the bar like nobody had offered. but something was different when his eyes fell on you, you weren’t like the other escorts, quick to talk to the men and get some money for the events that take within the confines of the motel walls. you were rather looking off in the distance, your position more reserved rather than comfortable. it had him wanting to know more. 
to be fair, billy was bored these days, all he did was travel and go from town to town, never leaving a mark on those behind. other than his wanted posters, which by the way, had an awful drawing on it. how the hell was he ever supposed to get a girlfriend with drawings like that made about him? each step is slow, calculated, as he moves over to you. he notices that mid way, your attention seems forced away from him. 
are you afraid of him? he tips his head in your peripheral, easily looming over you, “darling.” 
your eyes snap to him almost immediately, widening as if you didn’t think it would truly be him, yet you mumble out a, “honey.” 
“lady over there told me to talk to you,” his head tips up, blue eyes piercing into you, even through the deepest of the night. 
“i don’t want trouble,” you finally turn to him, the smell of musk and gunsmoke filling your nose as he bites through the toothpick in his mouth, “i hear you’re wanted.” 
“wanted, but not trouble,” he corrects, smirk tugging at his right lip, “you don’t gotta tell anyone.” 
“wasn’t plannin’ on it,” your voice is so sweet, it nearly has him doubling over. you’re teasing him, clearly, but billy has never backed down to a challenge once in his life, he can bet on that. 
his eyebrow twitches upright slightly, “how much for thirty minutes, beautiful?” 
“you can satisfy me in thirty minutes?” you tease, smile widening at your own joke. 
his head cocks to the side, and he can’t help the way he licks his lips, cockiness coursing through his veins, “i probably could in ten.” 
you can’t help the way your flesh feels like rubber over molten, cheeks flaring to a new maroon that you hadn’t expected. your eyes dare to match his, the lust unsheathed in the teal of his eyes, “thirty will be just a few coins.” 
his hand moves to your jaw, tipping your head up further to look at him with ease, now you have no choice of looking away, “you don’t think i can in ten?” 
“i doubt it,” your skin is hot underneath his touch, despite your bold demeanor. 
“we’ll see.” 
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
the motel carried the same smell as it always did, the mix of mustiness, smoke from cigars, and whiskey. billy’s gut churned as you led him to the room that you always rented, surely, he was cocky at first— then he began to worry if he would even be good enough. he was a virgin, after all, and he’s sure you’d been with mostly experienced men. he doesn’t say anything once the door opens, seemingly every worry dissipates as you look back at him with a different look, your lashes flutter over your eyes with ease, the look is more seductive, siren like. 
if you were a siren, consider him the sailors in those tales, lost in the tides and addicted to the song that oozed out your vocals.
he allows you to guide him to the bed, sitting him down on the thin, firm mattress with your hands lingering on his shoulders, “what would you like me to do?” 
“i’d like for you,” he trails off, eyes tracing down your body, “to get on your knees.”
your hands leave his shoulders as you ever so slowly kneel down, every movement is well thought out, calculated, your body flowing in the most seductive ways. despite your lowered body, your eyes still remained up at him, the sudden doe look in your eyes making his legs spread ever so slightly. his hand is gentle when it touches your cheek again, pinky lining underneath your jawline as his thumb threatens against your lips. 
it’s dangerous, the way you look at him, like your gun is being drawn to him with your finger teasing the trigger. 
“and?” you add, his thumb teasing your now open lips. he tried not to flinch when your mouth encased his thumb, the warmth wetness of your mouth enveloping the skin. he finds himself unable to speak, unable to wonder whatever he wants— he wants to be stuck in this moment forever, it was greater than any other treasure he had come across. you were so good at your job, it made him want to know the lengths of your skills. 
“suck me off,” he finally speaks, gentle to remove his thumb from your mouth. 
it was a statement that you were used to, the firm tone, the expectation to get to it immediately— yet you are somehow surprised when it comes from him, it’s less firm, not like a demand but rather an offer, and there wasn’t a feeling of being rushed. for a man who seemingly had no time for women, he surely had a way to talk to them, to be gentler with them, unlike the other men. it was always cowboys who had the better ways of treating women, respectful with every word, or touch. his eyes are heavy on you, the curtains of your eyelashes blinking up to him, your lips tinted a sweet rouge due to a patted on lipstick, and he finds himself pushing his thumb across your lips, smudging the burgundy ever so slightly. 
your hands smooth over the fabric of his pants, fingertips teasing the leather of his belt which accompanied his gun holster as you palmed him through his slacks. the touch of the leather was rich, sturdy and every loop was clean cut, rather than loose and falling apart like many belts you had undone before. you hear him groan as your hand gently pushes against his clothed cock, his back stiffening ever so slightly as a chill runs up it. 
he tilts his head to the side ever so slightly as you undo his belt, your fingertips threateningly close to his gun holster as you pull the leather from the metal to loosen it. a chuckle vibrates from his chest, voice lower than usual, “careful, princess.” 
he lifts his hips as you tug down his pants, boxers following soon after to slip down to his ankles with ease. a hiss escapes him as soon as his hard dick is released to the cold air, with the opposing blow of your warm air on his tip. he was already so hard, as if he had been aching for a day like this. his hand moves to wrap around his base, hips scooting closer ever so slightly. 
“open,” his voice is husky, yet velvety, like the thorn of a rose to the petals. 
you’re quick to allow your jaw to fall slack, tongue smoothing out past the burgundy that coats your lips, as if you expected his next command. he taps his tip against your tongue, biting back the groan that thunders inside his every limb at the feeling of the warm, wet muscle. he allows you to take the lead, your tongue following the underside of his dick, memorizing each vein. when you reach his tip, you press a few sloppy kisses to it that has his breathing roughen, allowing you to open your mouth once more and take his length inside. 
he sucks in a deep breath, a hoarse groan escaping past his lips when he exhales, allowing his teeth clench on the thin wooden toothpick that still remained in his mouth. his head tips back when you hollow your cheeks only mere seconds into sucking him off, his hat slipping off his head and falling onto the plush of the bedsheets. 
his breath becomes ragged with the more you bob your head, allowing the tip to reach the back of your mouth, to the throat. his free hand moves to pass through your hairline, gripping at the beginning of your hair, even through your updo, loosening the tightening of the strands. the muscle in his arms flex underneath his short-sleeved button up, veins popping out every time you reach the base. 
“good girl,” he breathes out, the whimper that vibrates around his cock making his release come quicker than expected, hand bunching up your hair as he has to move you back, off his dick to stop his orgasm. he heaves, noticing the way strips of saliva connect your mouth to his dick. he moves his hand from your hair down to your lips, watching the way your mouth instinctively opens then closes around his fingers, sucking them in with pure ease. 
he allows you to wet them with your saliva until he pulls them out and mumbles a soft, “come.” 
he helps you up onto his lap, the metal of his gun is a cooling sensation on his heated skin as he moves back, reaching under to toss his gun elsewhere. he had his guard down now, despite the large bounties on his head, he was too focused on you, and giving you the pleasure that you deserved. as you straddle him, his fingers dared to touch the bottom of your dress, threatening to raise, “may i?” 
your eyes are tantalizing when they meet his, like the threatens of the deepest lust lie within them, and billy is willing to dive in, “you may.” 
his hair is messy now, like he never took off that damn hat, and when he did— he didn’t bother to fix the hair underneath.
every movement is careful, meant to be more meaningful than a quick fuck, he raises your skirt until his eyes catch on to a white lace garter that’s propped around your upper thigh. so sweet, the purposeful placement of it all, it’s like a prize for whoever gets to raise your skirt. as you sit on his lap, your arms rest on his shoulders, a hand threatening the skin on the back of his neck as his hands move back around your waist, through the silk of the corset to the strings that hold it together on the back. his eyes are stuck onto you as his fingers begin to tug at the tie of the strings, they were in a harsh knot, but billy always knew his way around things. 
kissing clients was typically a line many of the women wouldn’t dare to cross, sometimes not even you, but the way his eyes kept tipping down to your lips had you threateningly close to the now faded line. as the laces of your corset loosen, your head tips down to where your lips barely brush him, you can smell the mint already before even getting a chance. your lips move to close around the toothpick that he kept in his mouth, moving to spit it out and he was quick to chase your lips. as soon as you had spit out the toothpick, his lips finally pressed against yours, allowing your freshly manicured hands to curl through his brunette hair. 
the fresh smell of your rose and jasmine was quick to his nose as he inhaled you up close, tongue teasing against your lower lip ever so carefully. there was a certain thirst that billy found himself feeling as he moves to spread your mouth open with his own, allowing your tongues to both clash, the mix of spit and remnants of mint and a cigarette becoming prominent to the taste. he wanted to drink every word from your lips, to suck in your siren song like his life depended on it. 
when your hips bucked up against him, needy to feel a form of friction, it had encouraged him to finally free you from the confines of your corset. your lips part when he breaks the kiss, his lips trailing kisses down to your jaw, throughout until he meets your neck, the softness of his kisses making it feel as though doves were flying through the confines of your body. when his lips begin to move to suck on the delicate skin, you hiss, “dear, dear, you can’t leave marks.” 
“your rules or brothel rules?” he murmurs against your skin, moving to toss away your corset onto the floor. 
“brothel rules,” you hush out, and you feel his lips curl onto your neck. 
“then ‘m gonna leave as many marks as i want,” he falls back into your skin, lips taking in the skin between his teeth as he moved to mark you as his own. the desire to have a prostitute as your own was a dangerous game, but billy had been a part of many dangerous games before, and now he was pulling all his money in with the unluckiest of cards— yet he still finds himself with the pride of feeling he will win. his lips pause at one of the pulse points on your neck, noticing how your heat beat quickens, and flutters, was this typical? 
he wasn’t sure, but he finds himself praying it’s a good thing. he chuckles as your hands are desperate to unbutton his shirt, pushing each wooden button through the loops with ease, you had done this a million times before, this is the only time your heart is thumping in your chest when you do, though. he moves his hand down to take a hold of one of your wrists, “easy, girl, easy.” 
“you said ten minutes,” you remind him, smile dripping on your lips. 
“mm, i want longer than that,” he helps you unbutton the last few before taking off his shirt, noticing how your eyes trail down his figure. 
“just sayin’ that because you can’t make me cum,” you break into a soft laugh against him, and he can’t help the way a small smile curves his lips as he takes off the dress that you were wearing. your body is alike to the statues you could only dream of seeing in those beautiful stories about gods and women who ruled. women who were worshipped, even as billy knew you for mere minutes, he found himself wanting to kneel at your altar, to worship the ground you walk on. to make you cum would mean more than he imagined at first, he wanted to be that man, to pleasure you in ways others haven’t. 
his fingers slip underneath the hem of your panties, immediately exposed to the wetness underneath as it coats his fingers, “can’t make you cum yet you’re so wet for me, hm?” 
you bite your lip, allowing your hips to sway against his fingers as pleasure envelopes your every thought almost immediately. though billy wasn’t quite sure about what exactly to do, he had heard the other cowboys speak of this, and he hoped it delivered as much pleasure as they said when he dips a finger inside of you. you’re loose around him, wet, yet sucking him in so easily. he’s quick to add another, finding his rhythm almost immediately and getting cocky with it. he dares to let his thumb tease the edges of your clit, as if he didn’t know it was there and he was merely looking for somewhere to place it. 
he notices the way your nails dig in to his scalp, biting your tongue so hard that crimson may bleed from it with ease. 
billy had kissed many women, been on the brink of sex, and yet none have reacted the ways in which you do. they were quick to show how they react, every emotion not blanketed behind a curtain of embarrassment but now, despite it being your job to over exaggerate the pleasure, you found yourself shy to make noise. he moves to allow another finger to push inside of you, the pink velvet of your insides encasing his fingers with ease. he hears you gasp when his fingers threaten to curl, and he allows himself another smile. his thumb moves to your clit again, and that’s when your grip becomes lethal, biting your lip no longer becoming a guard for your moans. 
“please,” you mumble out, whimpering. 
“please what, princess?” you’re putty in his hands, and he’s kneading you with ease. 
“i.. i need you,” you moan out, to be saying this to a wanted man, one who has killed, and committed theft, as well as escaped from prison— it was something you swore to never do. yet you were having sex with him and his touch felt so gentle it was as if it never happened, how could a man so dangerous be so kind? you feel a vein pulse from his neck as he finally pulls his fingers out, his eyes following yours as he moves his hand up to his mouth, allowing his fingers to move in between his lips and the taste of you to savor his tastebuds.
your pupils dilate at the sight of him tasting you, skin warming before you can even realize that you’re moving to take his fingers out, replacing them with your tongue as your mouth presses against his again. his hand falls on your waist, other hand guiding his dick to your cunt as he deepens the kiss to feel you moan against his mouth. your tongues fight for dominance, each movement a hunger of it’s own but yours falls submissive as soon as his dick slides into you with ease. your velvet is tighter around him than he expected, and he feels the vibrations of your whines against his tongue, mumbling a small, “you’re so big—“ against his lips. 
once you reach his base, you pull away from his lips, a mere string of saliva connecting you both like a lifeline. 
now you have the lead to take, your lips connecting with his neck to leave marks on him, you wonder how the other cowboys will react as your hips start swaying on his dick, riding him with ease. will they laugh at him for all the prominent hickeys? there’s no way he could hide it, you’ve heard billy had girlfriends all around in many different towns and parts of the state, what if he went back to them and they saw all the marks? it would trace back to you, you’re sure of it, but something about that fills you with a sense of pride rather than fear. you’ve always adored the outlaws, even though you were raised to be a good christian woman, a good girl. the outlaws were always the sweet talkers, as you were told from the other girls at the brothel. you were told stories about how well they treated the women, their touch being better than most the regulars, their words so dirty you’d only dream of being told it until you had finally heard it. 
now you found yourself in love with the idea of trouble, as you wrap yourself in the silks of his touch and the pleasure he gave you. his head tilts back to allow you more access to the free canvas of his neck, his hand raises, then immediately smacks onto the flesh of your ass. the slap tore a cry from your throat, into the skin that coats his neck, and a plain redness forms around the mark of his hand, branding you. 
somehow, this was more intimate than your previous affairs, even despite the roughness of the sex. it felt like a wild play of ballet, an opera you would only dream of seeing, the gracefulness of each movement and the sweetness that drips like honey off each sound, even the sounds of skin slapping as you ride him. you taste the bitterness of his cologne as you reach the sides of his neck, sucking the pale skin with a need to create marks that last. he’s fascinated by your every movement, if this truly was a ballet, he would find himself in the crowd, watching the dancer move with such purity even during such a lewd act. 
you felt yourself curl as your orgasm builds again, and it seems he is too in the way his hips begin to rock. every movement feels like being coated in molasses, trying to swim through it, the orgasms scorching through your inner thighs to your core until it wracks your body, hitting you harder than it had any other time. you don’t know what it was about him, but you were quick to flutter around him, and that had him pulling out, stroking himself for mere seconds until white stripes fall in messy streaks across your skin. 
he pulls you closer when your lips move so your head tilts onto his shoulder, both of your guys’ chests heaving as if you had just been working out, as if you were running towards danger and felt the warmth of it’s embrace reel you in. it was billy’s arms, his eyes closing for a mere second before they open again, “thought i couldn’t make you cum.” 
you hate the way you smile so easily at anything he says, the way you melt into his touch, the way even though you were merely a one night stand it felt like you wanted this to be an eternity, you wanted him to be a regular. 
“mm, i faked it,” you say with a smile, so clearly a lie. 
you move so he slips out of you, your cunt clamping around nothing as it missed the feeling of him inside of you. soon, you reassure yourself as you stand, convinced he will be returning. poor, poor girl, you were just another victim of the sweet talkers with pretty faces. it worsens as your legs become jelly, and he’s quick to stand, hands fastening to your waist and holding it to keep you balanced. his chuckle turns to a laugh, a deep, hearty laugh, “you sure, doll?” 
you roll your eyes, pressing a kiss to his cheek, somehow your lipstick remained and it kept the mark staining his cheek as you left your kiss there. then you moved, taking your clothes and putting them on, “goodnight, billy.” 
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flamingpudding · 3 months
Note
I love your writing so much but I'm here with a crack idea just imagine deage Dan is Klarion.
Dan was able to find out who he is outside of Danny then he was able to change his name Klarion Jackson Fenton/Nightingale he is still a little villain boy also now a mom boy.
Ghost King Danny is his mom young justice was so confused when Klarion you're the best gifts get your mom after not talking to him for a while to also begging them to pretend to be his friend . Justice League dark is panicking in the background about the electric being that just shows up.
Danny in full ghost king attire standing there with a plate of cookies ready to meet his son's new friends.
Thanks so much! I am glad you enjoy my writing!
Also thanks because I absolutely love this Idea/Prompt! Sooooo please enjoy this piece inspired by it! Also I haven't consumed a lot of DC material lately so i am basing this all on my memories. In other words.... I went with Tim's little team here.
Hope that's okay and that this won't disappoint.
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Dan, who was going by Klarion for some years now, had a massive problem. It was the huge kind of problem build on small bubbles of lies that then turned into this one giant bubble that was about to pop just because of one little question asked by his mom when his sister decided to throw him under the bus to deflect from herself and the fact that she was dating a demon. Don't get him wrong he still loves her, but man did he want to strangle Danielle right now.
"So Klarion, Ellie is right. When will I get to meet your friends you told me so much about?"
It was such an innocent question from his mom. And while his moms titles don't scare him, cause at some point in time they could have been his too, the happy dopey smile like nothing was wrong in the dimensions with little expectations directed at him was the scariest thing his mom could ever direct at him when he had asked THAT question.
So now Klarion was in need of a quick solution. When his mom had asked he had mumbled out a quick: "Next week maybe. We won't be busy with hero stuff then." He had started to form a plan. First of all, he needed to remember what all he had told his mom about his new and redeemed life on Earth 43 he had build for himself with the name Klarion Jackson Fenton-Nightingale.
Which fuck. There was a lot he had told his mom just so he wouldn't worry.
Cause now he also remembers that whenever he had gone out to cause some chaos he had made it seem to his mom like he was going out to bond with his new friend or help them with their hero duty. Well, in a way maybe his chaos causing could be seen as bonding. The ghostly kind, that is. And as for helping with the hero duty... he did give them work, something to do with their hero status. Anyway Klarion tried to remember all possible names he had dropped. Shit why did he also mention to his mom that he was working with heroes to make her proud? He should have name dropped some villains instead but nearly all of them were adults. He knew his mom would have frowned if he had only adult friends and no one around his age.
He was pacing his room in their castle. He need a plan, a good one at that. He knows he name dropped Robin, now Red Robin, Superboy and Impulse on a whim once. Superboy more so cause his mom had been interested in the Alien Heros of the Earth of the dimension he was partially living on now. He had mentioned Robin for the joke of knowing that there is a Dinner in an other Dimension with the same name. And because his Grandfather didn't like the Flash-clan which meant his mom didn't like them too much because of their messing with timelines either, he had mentioned being friends with Impulse on pure spite because of a punishment one day and to see their reactions. So he had to get these three on board anyway, and because for the heck of it he would get Wonder Girl involved too. It was never bad to have a girl in a friends group.
Klarion stopped his pacing. Turning towards his demonic ghost cat companion, kind of what Cujo was to his mom now. "Teekl, I think I have a plan. I will convince these Idiots, that shouldn't be a huge problem. Most of them are normale little flesh sacks." Teekl and him stared for some time at each other and after a moment Klarion huffed turning away with crossed arms. "It's a good plan don't be so sceptical, they are heroes right? They will not refuse my request!"
Well maybe Klarion should have planned this a bit better.
The next day Red Robin blinked at the witch boy up from the ground in the living room of what looked like to be an normal apartment. He had just been in Gotham, working on a case and now he was here? Looking to the left he also noticed that Superboy (the older), Impulse and Wonder Girl were also with him. They all looked stunned he observed and partially disoriented. Additionally they hadn't heard from Klarion since the last time they had foiled his plans on raging chaos upon the earth, that had been weeks ago.
"Kla-"
"I have summoned you heroes here. For the moment it is fruitless to try to leave because of the magic barrier." Okay rude to be cut of but that explained why he suddenly wasn't where he remembered to be last anymore. It was now Superboy who opened his mouth first but before he could even make a sound Klarion decided to speak over them again. "I have presents."
Four young heroes collectively blinked, confused, stunned and weirded out. As the which boy before them waved over to wards a table filled with boxes and packages. "I come in peace today, to proof that I brought these are presents, filled with various goods from different dimensions that should be to the liking of you all. Technologie, accessories, snacks, weapons, as well as clothing styles."
Red Robin shared a glance with his friends, a silent communication but before he once again could say anything Impulse was already by the table going through the stuff. They could here his 'oh's and 'ah's, which inevitably made them curious and they wandered over too. Klarion was not acting hostile at all yet but Red Robin did not trust that so he kept the which boy in clear view the entire time.
"Rob! You gotta see this! That actual futuristic Tech!"
"Look at these snacks."
"These accessories don't look to bad..."
His eye twitched when he noticed Klarion was sporting a smug look. Red Robin had to ask now, because this was not normal for the other. "Okay usually you would have started some big shot chaos plan by now. I don't buy this peace offering act and your way to formal talking. So what is going on?"
The other three, thankfully in Red Robins opinion, finally looked away from the tempting gifts and also turned their attention fully on Klarion. Who's smug smile falter as he let out a sigh and stared at them with what they could only describe as a frustrated look.
"My mom is planning to visit me."
"And?" Impulse asked between munching on three different bags of chips that where on the table.
"And he believes I am friends with you idiots."
They stared slack jawed. Impulse was pinching himself like he couldn't believe what they had just heard. Did one of their Villains, just informed them that their mom believes they were friends? Red Robin was starting to think he might be in a sleep deprived Hallucination.
"Why would she?" Wonder Girl questioned next to which Klarion glared at her with fire in his eyes.
"First of, my mom uses the pronouns he/Him. Be rude to my mom and I will find a way to make your life a permanent hell on earth." Wonder Girl blinked lifting her hands as in a sign of peace. "Second, my mom is under the believe that i work with heroes not against them. I do not have the heart to disappoint him after everything that happened in the past. So I embellished the truth a little."
"A little?" Superboy retorted sarcastically, to which they caught a light blush dusting the which boy's cheeks.
"Look my sister threw me under the bus and my mom wants to meet my friends now! So I need you idiots to play nice with me for when he visits!"
"And we will do that because?" Red Robin crossed his arms, watching their villain sceptically still not really buying this entire act. This was to strange of an behaviour change. Something was up, and he was going to get behind it.
Klarion on the other hand was starting to panic internally. His plan was not as he had hoped. The presents he had specifically gotten from other dimensions with what he believed was their interests did not work to make them simply accept his request. This was the last time he would listen to old man Vlad on how to bribe humans, he wasted his entire week on getting all that stuff. His mom was going to show up soon enough he need to have them act as his friends by then so he could remove the magic barrier. Or else his mom would notices he faked everything.
They left him no choice. He would have to throw his pride away for the sole reason to not disappoint his mom.
All four Young Justice Heroes blinked as Klarion suddenly threw himself on the ground before them into a pleading position.
"Please! I beg you, just for the time my mom is here. Please act like my friends!"
"I didn't think Klarion was a mama's boy...." Impulse whispered to the rest of them in pure disbelief as they stared stunned at the kneeling witch boy.
Cut to the heroes that noticed their teens were missing.....
"Where is he?" Batman growled at the Constantine who was sighing tiredly.
"Look mate, the way you and the other Spandex wearing friends explained it, made it sound like they got summoned by a being of the Infinit Realms." The blond man sighed lighting another cigarette eying the four heroes, Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman and Flash. Zatanna was behind him pouring over a book about the realms and trying to find a tracking spell to trace it back and to where they could have been summoned.
"Don't you have something like a tracker on your boy?" Batman only growled something under his breath to which the Brite couldn't help to arch and eyebrow. Constantine was going to say something sarcasting as Deadman suddenly appeared a panicked look on him. "The Ghost King has chosen to come to our dimension."
"Say bloody what now?" All attention that had been on the heroes and their problem of missing teenage heroes turned now to Deadman and the news he brought with him. "The ghost, shades and spirits talked, for the king has decided to visit our Dimension. They are in an uproar, no one knows of why our King is on his way."
"Bloody fucking hell!" Constantine cursed. "We are fucking screwed! Isn't that guy a fucking tyrannical eldrich war maniac?!"
Deadman nodded solemnly and Constantine uttered another hearty and colourful 'fuck'. While the heroes present exchanged worried glances, not only were their kids missing but now a, by the sounds of it, highly dangerous being decided to appear in their dimension? Batman couldn't help but think that there had to be a connection to the missing teens and this.
Meanwhile in the Infinite Realms the Ghost King Castle...
Danny smoothed out his fur trimmed cape and adjusted his crown so it was floating nicely and evenly on his head. Today was the day he would get to meet his sons friends. He needed to make a good first impression. That was why he had chosen to take on his Ghost King form for this. With the wave of his hand he made an ice mirror appear before him, checking how he was looking once again. Once satisfied he nodded to himself looking over towards Fright Knight who was holding the plate of cookies he had baked himself. It was the fifth batch, and the only one that didn't turn out burned. He had needed Jazz help for this one to turn out well. It was only proper if he brought some cookies for the kids. Also he would have loved to bring his families fudge but... the last time he had tried making them had turned into a disaster.
"Thanks Frighty. Do you think Klarion's friends will like these? Wait don't answer! If they don't like them I will just get something else to thank them for taking care of my boy." Danny rambled on as he glanced at the plate of cookies in his hands. Why was he so nervous? He was just going to get to meet his little boy's friends. Sure his boy had dropped some stories about them and his adventures with them here and there. But hearing stories and meeting the kids were two different things.
Shaking his head Danny put on his best smile as he summoned a portal to Klarions apartment in the 43th Dimension of Earth. It was time to visit his boy in the place he had made his second home and thank the people that looked after his kid.
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babygirl-riley · 7 months
Note
i need jealous / possessive / protective ghost plssss :)
Only Mine
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Simon watches as a new recruit takes interest in you. Even though you both are married (secretly of course) He still needs to let you know who you belong to.
A/N: omg we LOVE possessive jealous Simon. 🤭 Might write one that doesn’t have smut but listennnn it’s a good.
“Are you really here to cast me off? Or maybe just to turn me on.”
Warnings: jealous!simon, husband!simon, wife!reader, smut, rough sex, semi-public sex, just a little choking, basically a quickie, fluff, squint for the angst, swearing
simon x reader guide
simon x reader smut list
God the way your body started to ache in such a numbing good way, as you gripped the bars of Simon’s bed. You didn’t really expect your day to turn out like this. Simon, your secret husband, dragged you to his room without any explanation. Demanding your pants down and pussy out.
Confused yet totally turned on you did what he said. Now it’s just growls and slapping of skin. You are trying to recall the day, what could have possessed the all might Lieutenant Riley to be so riled up.
The last thing you were doing was teaching a recruit how to clean his gun properly. Nice kid, young possibly just joined that’s how young he looked. He made stupid snide jokes to get you laughing but it didn’t peak your interest. You are used to having all the young recruits flirt with you and stare. Until one day they make sure not to even cross paths with you.
Little did you know Simon fucking Riley would be watching from afar. Narrowing in on any recruit who decided to play that game. Make sure he scratches their name down so he could give them heavy drills. Watching them get more and more tired until the end to come up and whisper to them. “Get near my Sargent again and this will be the easiest thing ya ever have to do.”
However there was one time you knew that he did it to one recruit. You were hounding the little asshole about how he almost killed his group during a mission. Simon was to be in the same room due to having a back up if things got out of hand. Simon not once stepped in as voices got raised.
The recruit scoffed as he was being told that he is off the next assignment. Due to not only his previous act but also how the respect was not there for you. The recruit turned to Simon. “Control your bitch.”
Before you could even say anything Simon stood up. “Drills now.” He said lowly as he walked up to him. The recruit didn’t move for a moment staring at Simon dead in the eye. Simon leaned to his face. “Ya do not get to call your Sargent that. Now go before I make ya.”
The recruit looked over at you, which you had your arms folded. “That was an order private.” You said as he stormed out.
Simon had you come and watch and give the orders out to him. Basically like whipping a wild horse to become domesticated. In which this case the private did, he was one of your favorites to have in the field. Made sure everyone listened close and trusted you with his life.
Simon later on that day made sure that you were never going to be talked to like that again. That the next muppet that does would be thrown against the wall, you did have to remind him that your marriage is hidden. Which meant to be careful when to start throwing people around. However you loved the fact that he was protective like that. Making sure you were respected. Cared for.
Even when it was outside of the base, when the team is off on leave. Only Price truly knew that you both are married. So whenever you went on leave Simon went on leave and vise versa. When one of your little leaves you and Simon went to a bar, have some drinks and go home. When Simon went to the bathroom another man came up to flirt with you.
No matter how hard you would give him the no time of day, he kept going. The man would causally try to touch your hand, even when showing him the small ring on your finger he would say, “I don’t see him here.”
You would just smile as Simon stood behind him. “Hello babe.” You would say. At first the man had a smirk ready to face whatever man he was going to face, to only frown realizing that Simon was much larger in size.
Simon glared down at him his mask only showing his eyes. The eyes of warning towards the man. “Betta get going mate. She is here with me. And me only.”
The man scoffed and rolled his eyes as he left. Simon taking his space, you rubbed his back and whispered to him of how you were his. And how he was yours. Possessive was always on Simon, you loved it. You made sure that he felt the same, you even both agreed that you both had that. Wrong look from anyone Simon would give the death glare. Smile at you. Dead to him. Even look at you wrong. Gone.
You seen everything when he got that way. Him saying something to giving them his death looks…This however. Was something you haven’t seen. Simon’s cocked dragged against your walls at such a high speed that you didn’t know what to do. Your mouth dripping with salvia as you gasped and whined as he hit the spot over and over, releasing your second orgasm. “Havin’ him near ya like that,” Simon growled as he reached for your neck, pulling you up to his chest. “You laughing at his jokes, fuck, you think I wouldn’t see that.”
It finally hit you once he said those words. “Si,” You whimpered as you felt his hand squeeze your neck. “Fuck, you know I only belong to you.” You knew that is what he needed to hear, to let him know that you belong only to him.
Simon chuckled. “Is that so,” He questioned snapping his hips harder into you, slowing his pace as he placed his lips next to your ear. “I want you to scream my name as I fuck my cum so deep in ya, that no fucking man in this base will get near you.”
You moaned as he bite your ear. “Show me and the rest of this fuckin’ base who you belong to.”
He pushed you back down pinning your chest to the bed as he slammed his cock into you once more. You screamed as you clenched around his cock feeling the knot start to form. Simon went back to his brutal pace, tears brimmed your eyes as it felt so good yet the overstimulating was becoming too much. You wanted more as he drove harder and harder. You moaned loudly as he started to grip your hips.
“Fuck Simon.” You mumbled looking behind your shoulder. He still had basically everything on, he tore your clothes off once you laid down on this bed.
“Louder.” He demanded combing through your hair. Not stopping his pace.
The noises that filled his room should be illegal. The tiny bed that squeaked, as the metal bar hitting the wall, skin to skin slapping against one another, the wet sound that came from his cock and your pussy, and the moaning god the moaning.
“Simon.” You said louder a whine coming out. Panting started to become faster. “It feels so fucking good!”
He gripped your hair. “Louder!” Simon growled.
Your orgasm was right there and you knew he was right there too, his hips stuttering as he panted. Your body shook as Simon’s fingers went underneath you to play with you clit. “Yesyesyesyesyesyss! Simon! Oh god!” You yelled as your orgasm hit you hard enough to see stars.
You could feel your cum lathering his cock as he growled lowly. “That’s it doll, let them hear you. You belong to me only. fucking. me.” He grunted as his cum filled your hole.
You collapsed against the mattress as Simon moaned as he leaned into you more. Shoving his cock further up into you. It was quiet for a moment, the sound of your breaths steaming. Simon sighed kissing your back, rubbing your sides. He noticed that he gripped your hips hard enough that he knew it would leave marks. It wasn’t his first time, you told him you loved when he would do it occasionally.
You sighed pushing yourself more into him. “You know that I only belong to you. That no one else can have me.” You whispered, moaning with content.
Simon nodded as he kissed the back of your neck. “I know, just gets me riled up to see men touching you. Especially when you laugh at their jokes.”
You chuckled slowly getting up having him take his cock out. You both hissed for a moment before you laid on your back. He hovered over you as you grabbed his cheeks. “Your jokes are the only ones that are truly funny.”
“Including the goldfish in the tanks?” He asked smirking, knowing damn well you hated that one.
You rolled your eyes. “Yes even that one.” You both stare at each for a moment. You inhaled deeply. “You should get jealous more often, it looks good on you Lieutenant.”
Simon scoffed getting up before pulling his pants and boxers on. “Shut it,” You giggled as he handed you your clothes. “Get dressed I have a private to run drills, you should watch.”
Oh, now how you were going to get him more jealous. You just loved the way your body ached for more than what you just got.
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unreliablesnake · 7 months
Text
Surprises (Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader)
Summary: Price finds out at a family gathering that his favorite niece's new boyfriend is none other than Ghost. The lieutenant thinks he's in trouble. How bad can things be?
Note: A little fluff and angst. What do you think? / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.
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Simon knew he fucked up the moment he realized you were Price's niece.
The very niece he babysat several times when you were little, the one he talked so much about whenever they were discussing family. He loved you, he was proud of you, and despite you now being an independent young woman, he still treated you as if you were an expensive and rare piece of jewelry that had to be locked away.
So yes, when he attended a family event you invited him to and met the captain there, he knew he was in trouble. You had talked about your Uncle John before, sure, even joked about the two of them possibly knowing each other, but not even in his wildest dream could he suspect the two men being the same.
And now he was sitting there across from him at the long picnic table in the garden, his blue eyes piercing through his skull. Every time you intertwined your fingers with his on top of the table or leaned over to place a soft kiss on his cheek, he could almost hear the annoyed groan leave his lips.
You suddenly rested your head on his shoulder, smiling sweetly when he looked down at you. He couldn't help himself, he just followed his instincts when he leaned down to place a kiss on the crown of your head. That move made the captain snap.
"Simon, why don't you help me bring out some nice, cold drinks?"
He gulped before nodding, his entire body suddenly going rigid from the terror he felt. "Hey, he barks, but doesn't bite. You'll be fine," you assured him as you kissed his shoulder through his shirt.
With a sigh, he stood up and followed Price into the kitchen, carefully closing the door after himself. "Look, Cap, I didn't know she was your niece. I'm sorry. But trust me, I'm serious about this relationship. I really like her," he began to explain the situation without hesitation.
But Price didn't seem interested in his excuses as he was quick to raise a hand to stop him. "I don't care, Simon. She likes you too, it's obvious and she told me before, I just don't want her to suffer if…"
If he dies on the field. That's what he wanted to say, he knew that. Nodding, he leaned against the kitchen island and folded his arms over his chest. The two of them stood there in silence for a while, trying to figure out what to do now. Simon understood why Price was so worried about this relationship, but he also had to understand that he wasn't about to give you up.
"Would you be happier if she was dating a civilian? Some loser who doesn't even know what he wants to do with his life?" he asked to break the silence.
Price drew in a sharp breath that he let out while running a hand through his hair. It was easy to tell he was dying to light a cigar, but his sister had a strict no smoking in the house rule. So he settled with the second best option and began pacing in front of him.
"You, as a person, are not the problem, Simon," he began. "You're a good man, I know that. The problem is our line of work. And the fact I'm your higher-up, and now I have to think about you not only as my right hand, but also as the boyfriend of my favorite niece. Every time I send you somewhere dangerous, I'll have to consider how she would react if something happened to you."
With a loud gulp, Simon considered his reasoning. He was right. Everything he said was understandable. "If you think it would be better if we broke up, just say it," he told him eventually.
There was no response for a while, they stood there in silence once again. But then Price shook his head and extended his hand. "Just make her happy, that's all I'm asking for," he said with a smile. "And don't tell her that we know each other. I don't want her to worry."
Hesitantly, but Simon shook his hand. He had no idea what made the captain change his mind, but he didn't have an issue with that as long as he was okay with him being with you. He then opened the fridge and began to put a selection of drinks on the counter next to it.
Once they made it back to the family, you immediately gave him a worried look, silently asking for a story he wasn't about to give you. So he lied like Price had just asked him to do, even if it hurt like hell.
"Everything's fine, he just wanted to get to know me," he told you with a smile before giving you a quick kiss. "We're good."
"Sure?" you asked with a suspicious look on your face. Simon nodded. "All right, if you say so. I'm glad he likes you," you noted with a smile on your lips.
Before he could say anything, Price raised a hand. "If I might add, you chose well, kiddo," he said with a smile before flashing a smile at the lieutenant.
"I know," you said with a triumphant smile before giving Simon a kiss.
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spicyllewyn · 7 months
Text
Kinktober 6. - Mirror sex.
Moon system x F!Reader
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Tags & warnings. Mirror sex + hair pulling. (+18)
Word count. 2.8k
Summary. Marc got tired of Steven and Jake breaking his rules.
Kinktober masterlist.
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So far, the agreement had been going relatively well. You were in a serious relationship with Marc at first, you met in a café like those silly romantic movies, with the small difference that you almost killed him by spilling your cold drink on him and tripping over him.
Neither of you could deny that things were moving very fast, but everything with him was so ridiculously easy that you weren't afraid to give him your all. You told him about the pet you lost when you were young, about the disagreements with your parents, and the occasional traumatic event in your life. He did the same.
When he told you about Steven and Jake, you joked that he was winning the trauma competition, and he could breathe easy knowing that this was not even close to being an obstacle to your relationship. He could trust you.
Things began to get a bit out of control when everything also became easy with Jake and Steven, each with their own personal charm. You never imagined being with three very different guys, but starting to experience it was a real adventure. The problem was that while you were having fun, they had endless discussions about you and the boundaries they set for each other.
Well, the boundaries that Marc set.
The main and biggest one was that marks on your body were prohibited. He understood that all four were part of the relationship equally, but he also used something he liked to call "privileges of having met you first and being the main reason why everyone is together." Or something like that, he always changed the name for it, the thing is he couldn't help but be a jealous man, he hated that Jake and Steven would forget who you belonged to first.
The first one to break the rule was Steven, unconsciously. You didn't know anyone who was a bigger fan of make-out sessions than him, and when his kisses got deeper, more desperate, he had the habit of holding onto your hips as if you were about to run away at any moment, or as if he wanted to verify that you were real and that you were in his arms, devouring his mouth as if you depended on it to live.
That, combined with the fact that he had a terrible habit of forgetting that his muscles were stronger than he thought. You tried to be as discreet as possible when his fingers left marks on your skin, but with someone as touchy as Jake, it was impossible to keep secrets about your body.
He took it as a challenge, of course. If Steven could break the rules, why couldn't he?
The next day, you could be sure that he saw you as a blank canvas because your neck, your shoulders, and even your breasts were covered in bites and hickeys. You didn't remember him being so aggressive, but maybe pleasure had blinded you.
"What is this?" Marc held your chin, turning your face slightly, just enough to get a better view of your neck.
"It was Jake." You chuckled, still distracted by your phone as you let him guide you, without noticing how his jaw clenched, but feeling his fingers tighten on your jaw.
"Darling?"
Your eyes traveled to him.
"Mhm?"
"Will you come with me to the bedroom? We need to talk."
With a furrowed brow, you obeyed because the hand that held your chin ended up in one of your hands, pulling you as if he were a child wanting to show you something very important.
"Am I in trouble?" You joked as you watched him close the door behind you.
"Sit on the bed."
"Am I...?"
His brown eyes on you were enough for you to obey once again.
"Could you explain to me what the hell is this?" His hand in your hair made you turn your gaze away from the mirror you had in front, leaving the marks in plain sight.
You immediately understood who he was talking to.
Or whom.
"Oh, come on, hermano." Jake rolled his eyes in the mirror's reflection, his arms crossed over his chest. "Steven broke it first."
"False!" The mentioned objected after. It seemed like a competition of who could make Marc lose his patience first. "I would never do something like that."
"Check her hips if you don't believe me."
Raising an eyebrow, Marc released your hair.
"Stand up, sweetheart."
If there's one thing you've learned over time in this relationship, it's that it's not worth objecting when one or all three of them are arguing, especially when you don't even know what the problem is. You stood up slowly, wearing Steven's blue sweater that you slept in, which only covered half of your thighs.
He slowly lifted the edge of the fabric, his fingers brushing your thighs and causing a slight shiver. You could swear you heard him growl when he found the damn marks that fit perfectly with the size of his hands. Some of them were covered by your panties but they were pretty visible, already turning to a purple color.
“I-I didn't even notice those were there!”
“Why can Steven do it and I can't? That’s a damn injustice if you ask me.”
“Fortunately, Jake, I'm not asking you.” He rolled his eyes while you tried to imagine what the other two boys responded to him from the headspace. "On your knees."
The cold of the floor on your skin felt good and you had to look up to meet your boyfriend's chocolate gaze. You never had a problem following his orders.
“The problem here…” His fingers ran through your hair slowly, making you close your eyes for a few seconds. “They are forgetting who you belong to. Who do they think they are to mark my girl like this, huh?” He cooed, the gaze of the other two fixed on him.
Your hands went to the hem of his pants, and when he didn't object, you understood well what he wanted. A small smile spread across your lips as you freed him from his tight black jeans, as well as his underwear.
He wasn't completely hard yet until your tongue ran along his entire length from base to tip.
“I want you to show them who was your first, my love.” Your fingers, as if you were an expert, wrapped around his cock, giving it a squeeze before beginning a slow, up-and-down pace. “Who you think about every fucking time you cum.”
You couldn't see it, but in detail you imagined the way Jake was rolling his eyes.
“It's a punishment for all 3 of you, you understand, don't you, honey?” His eyes boring into you as you kissed all around his cock wetly. “What makes you believe you should allow yourself to be treated that way?”
You parted your lips, taking the head inside before starting to suck. That always gave him chills, the way you didn't rush.
“No-oh.” His fingers tangled in your hair, those soft caresses had stopped. One push of his hand and you had half of his erection inside your mouth. He groaned.
Although you enjoyed taking your time and savoring every inch of Marc, he seemed to be in a hurry, you thought that perhaps the clumsy and aggressive way in which he was directing your head movements was part of the supposed punishment.
Were you supposed to not enjoy that?
“Push deeper.” Jake's voice caught Marc's attention, who a few seconds ago had been distracted by the messy and sloppy way you were sucking him off. He could have sworn there was a point where the only sound in the room was your saliva every time he slid over your tongue.
Marc looked at the mirror with a frown.
“Push harder.” He repeated, looking up. “Steven always fucks her mouth until she cries, if you want to prove your point push harder. Right, Steven?"
The other boy received an elbow against his ribs that forced him to look up. It seems he was enchanted by watching the way your left cheek bulged against the pressure of the head of Marc's lenght against it.
Still distracted, he nodded quickly.
It was that what resulted in you suddenly feeling him push your head harder. The brush against your throat brought tears to your eyes and you heard your boyfriend grunt. He was never so rude.
You didn't complain, though.
You tried your best to relax the muscles in your throat around him, but you were so caught off guard that a couple of gags only did the opposite, feeling you squeeze him every few seconds until he guided your head back.
Saliva ran from your lips to your chin, some drops ending up on your neck. You broke the string of saliva that joined his cock to your mouth by licking your lips.
You sniffed, looking up before giving Marc a smile.
“Oh, you like that, don't you?” His fingers wrapped around himself so he could hit your tongue with his heavy member. You kept your tongue out, happy to receive it and hear the wet slapping. “Or does Steven do it better?”
Another movement of his hips was so abrupt that you felt your nose eventually collide with his lower abdomen, having to close your eyes as your tears ran down them. Still, you didn't give up, you didn't use your well-known "signal" to ask for some mercy.
Instead you moved your tongue slowly underneath, you only managed to graze his balls with the tip of it but it was enough to get a gasp from his throat. You held on for more seconds than you thought you were capable of before it was Marc himself who pushed you away.
It took you several seconds to even out your desperate breathing, you wiped your lips on the sleeve of Steven's sweater.
"Stand up." He ordered. His chest rising and falling rapidly. Jake's smirk on the other side of the mirror screamed at him that he knew. He knew Marc would finish stupidly quickly if he kept fucking your throat like that.
You swallowed hard before standing on shaky legs, the intense heat between your legs beginning to burn through your entire body, without receiving any kind of attention the only thing you could feel was the way your insides clenched around nothing.
"Turn around." Your cheeks took on a reddish color as you remembered the two pairs of eyes that were on you on the other side of the reflection. You slowly turned your back on him, your fingers gripping the wooden cabinet that held the huge mirror. “You better not close your eyes, I want you to look at them.”
Marc's hands took care of the job, pulling the hem of the sweater up to your waist and pulling your panties down to your ankles. You didn't need instructions to spread your legs and raise your ass for him.
He positioned himself behind your body, holding his cock for help. The tip separated your lips and you flinched when it brushed your swollen clit, it was just a couple of brushes as if he wanted to collect your juices on it in order to make penetration easier.
Although with you dripping and him full of your saliva, at this point it was just his pettiness and his desire to make you beg. You lifted your hips higher.
Marc looked down, his hand positioning itself exactly over Steven's finger marks and with a single movement you felt him slide inside you. Your legs trembled as you received him this deep and rough way, an action that you recognized as more typical of Jake.
“M-Marc, fuck, Marc.” You stammered as your body tried to get used to his size. No matter how many times you had done this, it was like your body insisted on giving him that death grip that drove him crazy.
"That's it." He caught her bottom lip between his teeth in a lousy attempt to silence her gasps. “Louder, baby, remind them who's fucking you.”
Somehow you felt like Jake and Steven's eyes burned into your skin. You couldn't look in the mirror, not while you were babbling Marc's name between moans, with that look that made it obvious how cockdrunk you were with just a couple of thrusts.
When Marc hit that sweet spot that made you vibrate from head to toe, your eyes closed automatically, your head falling downward.
"No." He growled, his hand rising to place it in your hair where he tangled his fingers. The sudden tug he gave to your locks made you snap your head up and let out a loud gasp, your eyes snapping open. "Look at them."
On the other side Jake was leaning slightly so he could be at your face level, analyzing every small expression of pleasure he saw in you. Your cheeks are flushed, your pupils are dilated, and your lips are red from biting them so much.
Steven was too lost in his own thoughts to object anything, the truth is that he was enjoying this new angle he had to see his cock splitting you and making you whimper more than he would like.
“Tell them how good I'm making you feel, honey.” He cooed, his fingers giving your hair a harder tug to force you to keep your head up. “Remind them who was the first to break that tight little pussy.”
You stifled a moan, making your bottom lip bleed with a bite.
“Tell them.” He growled, his fingers squeezing your hips so hard you feared your body was going to give up at any moment.
“I-It was you, Marc.” You whimpered in pleasure as his thrusts pushed your body forward, you were already on your tiptoes so as not to end up with your entire body against the furniture.
“Repeat it, I want them to listen to you.” His entire length remained still inside you, brushing against that spot that made you lose your mind. "Louder."
Your parted lips took in deep gasps of air and you had to swallow hard to recover your voice by moistening your throat a little.
“It’s you M-Marc.” He didn't give your hair a break, he was pulling with his fingers so hard that it was starting to hurt. “Fuck, Marc! A-Ah, fuck. It’s you, it’s you, only you.”
Bold of you to assume that Jake wouldn't have that in mind the next time he had his turn with you.
“Fuck her harder.” Marc looked at the mirror when the opposing voice caught his attention. “Come on, she can take it.” A mocking smile appeared on his lips, only irritating Marc even more.
Still, he obeyed.
You could hear the slapping between your bodies every time he thrusted into you. Your legs were threatening to stop supporting your body weight as they began to shake, your entire body feeling small spasms as you got closer and closer to the end.
“Marc?” Steven's soft voice caught the attention of the other two. His pupils were dilated and there was an adorable blush on hid cheeks. "Touch her."
Marc grunted when he realized that this wasn't the punishment he'd originally thought, but who was he to say no to Steven? The hand that was holding your hip slowly slid between your legs, separating your pussy lips with his fingers and then pressing his thumb against your sensitive clit.
He immediately felt your little hole tighten around him.
“Circles.”
“I know how to touch her, Steven.” He growled in your ear, only reminding you of the pair who were probably enjoying the show. The pleasure you were experiencing was too much to rescue the few grams of shame you might have somewhere on your body.
Your nails scratched the wood of the furniture in front of you.
“Cum all over me, honey.” He managed to whisper between moans. Two more thrusts of his body snatching the air from your lungs. “I bet they’ll like it.”
And that was enough for the wave of pleasure to make your body tingle from head to toe, your walls milking Marc until he followed you immediately after, filling you with his warm, thick liquid, which he pushed deeper inside you with a couple more strokes.
For a few seconds the only thing you heard along with the ringing in your ears was Marc's heavy breathing. After a moment his fingers gripped your hips, drawing your attention.
He gave you one more thrust and you squealed, sensitive, overstimulated.
“Marc.” You complained, looking up at the mirror in front of you once more as you tried to catch your breath.
On the other side, Jake's smile greeted you, almost playful.
“Let's see which name you can shout the loudest, princesa.”
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Tag list. @ninebluehearts @shousha133 @unear7hly @onefinnedwonder-fm @automnepoet @lokisremainingsanity @uncle-eggy @just-a-nightdreamer @spktrgantenk @chinglewingledingledong @queerponcho @faretheeoscar @spideyman-peter
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rboooks · 11 months
Text
Alfred's Boy: Part 2
Bruce felt his blood pressure rise as Damian shoved another pair of swimming trucks into his cart. His youngest insisted that he needed something flattering, as his previous outfit was "functional but not attractive to the youth of today."
Damian had never cared that he wasn't up to the trends, but that was before Danny moved into the manor. Now he had to wait hours for Damian to find a satisfying outfit, knowing darn well its only because Danny mentioned he was interested in taking a dip in the inner pool.
The boy, technically being staff, felt it was essential to ask permission before taking a swim. Bruce had spent years telling Alfred he had free range over the manor, only to always have the man ask before doing anything. He hopes Danny won't develop the same habit.
He wanted the young man to feel at home with them.
His younger children- who honest to God forgot they even had a pool- had all scrambled to go swimming with Danny. Tim had practically thrown himself over the table to change from his WE suit into his swimming wear, Duke use his grappling hook to zoom up the stairs and Steph begged Cass to lend her a bikini.
Damian remained seated, despairing that his old swimming shorts had been bought by Dick the year previous. Dick had gotten him green shorts with little cats and dogs. Damian- who refused to even go near public pools- wore them to the family pool with no desire to purchase new ones since he saw no point in it.
And now he was paying the price for keeping childish wear. Personally, Bruce thought they were adorable and perfect for his fourteen-year-old son, but being two years younger than Danny gave him a terrible disadvantage, and Damian could not afford falling futher behind.
He just sat there, staring longingly at the retreating back of Alfred's assistant after telling him he had nothing to wear. Danny had told them he could join the rest another time before scurrying away to finish his cleaning of the right wing.
What else could Bruce do besides offering to take him to the nearest outlet mall and get him something nicer?
"Damian are you almost-"
"I am ready, father. Make haste to purchase our wears. Daniel must be finishing his duties, and I wish to get back." His son announced, yanking the cart out of Bruce's hand and practically running to the cashiers.
Bruce sighed.
It's not that he minded his son's crush on a boy or that it was Danny. It just felt like he shouldn't be encouraging his children to try and romance someone going through a lot.
Alfred had forbidden anyone from looking into Danny's background, and he had respected the request. There was a lot Bruce and Batman were willing to do but defying a direct order from Alfred was not one of them.
(Honesty, if Alfred ever turned evil, Bruce's contingency plan for him was simple: Die.)
Danny took his assistant butler job very seriously. Often wearing a neat and pressed suit, finishing his work in record time, well mannered and very intelligent but kept a distance from the family. Alfred also had a small wall of professionalism but he would crack a joke and be in their presence like a grandfather.
Danny only spoke when spoken to, tried to refrain from being notice and basically kept the reminder that while he liked them all he was always going to be a employee first and foremost.
Maybe it was due to his parents? Danny probably couldn't relax until he felt safe once more. Not for the first time, Bruce wondered what type of monsters the Fentons had to be to make a boy capable of discovering the Batcave without so much of a blink, flatter.
"Father!" Damian called impatiently, tapping his foot before the nervous-looking teen who what been attempting to ring him up.
The Wayne's made everyone nervous.
"Yes. Yes. Here put It on my card-" Damian snatched it out of his hand before Bruce even took it out completely from his wallet.
Suddenly his phone rings. Seeing that Damian could handle punching in the Pin, he accepted the call, not bothering to check the screen.
All his children have personalized ringtones, so only one person would cause Gun and Ships from the Hamilton musical to blare from his phone.
"Jason-"
"Bruce!" Jason yells in a wheezing voice "Tim almost drowned!"
What.
"Is he alright!?"
"He's fine!" Jason assures, voice breaking to manic cackling. "He's just really embarrassed. He forgot about the bruise on his back, so when he tried to do cannonballs with Danny, he cramped up. Danny had to help him out of the pool and then lectured him about jumping in the deep end because of peer pressure. He thinks Tim can't swim, Bruce!"
Bruce felt a headache building behind his eyes. "Jason-"
"Wait, wait, there's more! Do you know how Steph never wears bikinis because she is uncomfortable? Danny clocked that as soon as she walked in and offered her the old t-shirt he was wearing. Took it off right then and there, and do you know what Steph did!? She walked into a wall! A wall Bruce!"
"Jason-"
"Duke hasn't stopped staring at Danny. I think his brain is in a permanent blue screen. I'm actually thinking he's-"
"Jason!" Bruce cut in which finally seemed to get his second oldest attention. Don't get him wrong, he was thrilled that Jason was spending so much time around the manor but the constant updates on his children tripping over themselves for Danny was not well for his heart. "I think you need to make sure your siblings give Danny some space. The poor chum might not be comfortable-"
"I'm not helping you stop Danny from finding true love, old man"
Bruce rolled his eyes as his son hung up. He can't wait for school to start up again. Danny will be homeschooled by his own request and Alfred's agreement but at least most of his kids will not be around him as often.
His phone started playing Sk8er Boy and he considered not answering. He really did but honestly his son probably needed him.
With a sigh he presses the accept call button "Tim-"
"He thinks I can't swim Bruce! He banned me from the pool!" Tim sobs and Bruce sees Damian perk up, happy Danny had put distance between one of his suitors ans himself.
Was it too late to ask Alfred if he was sure his contact Clockwork had no where else to foster Danny?
Being Batman on the night all his rouges broke out was easier then this.
( Part 1) (part 3)
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dcxdpdabbles · 8 months
Note
Cave Boy Danny calls Batman’s costume uncool and the bats lose their minds over it. Also Alfred would totally spoil him in nostalgia. (Maybe by making the batfam let Danny out of the cage…?)
Danny tries his best not to stare at his perceived counterpart or any of the children, convinced he's their dad as a kid. He's not doing an excellent job of it, though, seeing as his eyes flickered around the room against his will.
It's almost as if the more he tries not to stare, the more he glances. It's so weird that Bruce looks precisely what he imagines Dan Phantom would have looked like if he had a human side. Knowing that Bruce and Dan look alike does not settle his nerves.
It makes him feel even more weary of the older man.
He was curious to know if they were the same person because he had made up the name Bruce on the spot since it was the most boring name Danny could think of. Yet, the DNA results showed they were the same person, not due to cloning. He knew what clones' DNA looked like from personal experience.
Especially since Bruce- why did it have to be such a boring, stupid name? Why couldn't he still be named Danny? His own clone kept his name for Pete's sake!- was sending out major Fruitloop vibes.
Not only was he rich with a secret lab underneath his house and dressed in a weird bat costume, but oh no, Bruce ate pizza with a fork and a knife.
Danny's eyes flicker over to the man just as he cuts another piece of his pepperoni pizza without a single movement wasted. He doesn't even look like he's doing it as a joke- no, the man is regal, dabbing his mouth with a napkin every third bite.
What a freak. Danny thinks, folding his pizza slice in half so he can stuff most of it in his mouth in one giant bite. Two of the teenagers gasped as though they just witnessed a natural disaster.
"Philistine." Damian- his counterpart's youngest- hisses. He's glaring at Danny, obviously trying to insult him, but Danny has dealt with bullies all his life. The kid is far too polite in his insults. Damian wouldn't last a day in public schools' playgrounds, that's for sure.
Danny looks him dead in the eye, still chewing, eyes wide and earnest, and responds with a cheerful "Gesundheit."
Damian's face clouds over in disgust. "Do you even know what that means?"
"Philistine is an uncultured person who is hostile or indifferent to the arts." Danny recites without missing a beat. He gives the other boy a pitying frown. "If you don't know the definitions of words, maybe you shouldn't use them. Might get you in trouble one day"
Damian throws a knife at him with a cry of outrage. Danny is not ready for said knife, but his ghost reflections have him moving to the right just in time for the blade to miss his head and impale itself on the back chair of his seat.
It does, however, nick his neck a little. Danny lets out what he hopes is an appropriate scream in response to the pain. He doesn't want them to know about his real name, much less his powers, but it's hard to have proper reaction times when he could already feel his healing ability numb the pain seconds after it happens.
It felt like a small prick of a sticker while walking barefooted in the grass- quick and sharp but over quickly.
Danny blinks at the table for a solid three seconds, before tilting his head as far back as it could go in his seat and letting out an even monotone cry of "aahhhhhhhhhh!"
He wishes he was better under pressure because it felt like he was attempting to impersonate a toad.
"Young Master Bruce!" Alfred- the butler that raised Bruce in their world? So his counter-parts foster dad?- cries out in alarm. He springs up from his seat, rounding the table to be at his side in seats. "My dear boy, are you alright? Does it hurt? Shall I bring the medical kit?"
Danny stops his monotone cry to blink up at the man. "I'm okay. I'm just dramatic."
Alfred's face spams before it settles in a nostalgic, fond expression. "Oh, the memories."
"Leaping Lizards, Batman," Tim whispers, gripping his fork so hard it's bending. He has a manic glint in his eye, with a smile so wide it's splitting his face in two. "Is this what Bruce was like at our age?"
"Yes, Master Bruce did have a very similar personality to our guest".
"I thought Ollie was kidding when he said Bruce was the weirdest kid in school," Dick speaks up, his face reflecting massive glee. "Does this mean it's also true he would tell people he would date them if they could beat him in a fight?"
"Yes. Alfred told me that was the only way I would be allowed to date before eighteen," Bruce speaks up, a hint of a blush appearing on his cheekbones. "I was in a lot of fights."
Alfred laughs, looking far too grandfatherly when he nods. "I would get a call from Gotham Acadamy almost every other day because Master Bruce had fought off would-be suitors. It's why no one bats an eye at his play-boy persona."
"You know what," Jason speaks up, looking thoughtful. "This explains everything about your love life, to be honest."
"Oh, so when you beat up annoying guys hitting on you, it's okay, but when I do it, it's unfair since I have training," Steph complains, making air quotes on the word training.
Bruce frowns at her. "When I was a teenager, I didn't have any of my Bat training, just what Alfred taught me."
"Alfred, the ex-British Secret Service, bulter." She counters.
"Alfred, the ex-medic in the Royal Air Force, bulter," Duke cuts in.
"Alfred, the ex-SAS Commander, Bulter," Dick tasks on with a smile
"Alfred, the ex-Spy Master for the Royal Crown, bulter," Cass cheerfully says.
"Ancients, those poor teenagers," Danny whispers, staring at Alfred in newfound respect and fear. "Did they even have a chance?"
"No, those riff-raff did not" Alfred smiles turning to the older version of Danny. "I do believe Master Bruce once threw Mr.Queen into a dumpster and left him there overnight?"
"I did. Oliver wouldn't accept no as an answer, so I put him in time-out." Bruce responds with a shrug. "If he hadn't been such a crybaby about the black eye, maybe I would have taken him up on his offer to see a movie."
Danny can't believe this. He points an accusing finger at Bruce with an unhinged look of confusion. "You had everyone falling over themselves in a world where bi-sexuality is common, mind you, and you choose to wear the lame-ass weird bat costume by choice? You chose to be uncool when you could have been in the It-Crowd!?"
The Wayne kids choked on their spit as Bruce gaped at him.
"Brucie, you are a riot!" Jason gasps, causing Danny to frown.
"Brucie?"
"Yeah, since there are two of you, I thought calling the smaller one Brucie would make it easier to tell you apart." Jason sighs wiping a tear out of his eye. Next to him, Dick is still howling with laughter.
Danny needs to keep calm and tell them he would not respond to the name Brucie. Instead, he panics and says, "I actually go by Brucie back home. I'm so surprised you know the nickname!"
He needs to get the fuck out of here.
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coco-loco-nut · 21 days
Text
Book Club - Part Two
Pairing: Grid x Reader
Summary: the club gets new members
Requests are open!!! Masterlist
——————————
“That was a great book suggestion, thanks Nando,” Valtteri says at the end of your discussion. You hear the door open and close then feel the couch dip beside you.
“Checo, finally joining us?” Lewis asks, an amused smile on his face.
“I am old,” the Mexican says, you look to the older guys to take over.
“Mate, what happened?” Daniel asks. sipping a coffee. He joined when the rest of the grid found out, at the same time as Lewis.
“I saw Yuki and Lando doing a weird dance,” Checo looks a little traumatized. You rest a comforting hand on his shoulder and hand him a Spanish version of Lewis’ choice for the week, The Book Thief.
“This official opens the Paddock tea portion of our morning,” you say to the group.
“Oh! Which one?” Valtteri asks Checo who gives a rough description of it. Naturally, Valtteri and Daniel attempt to do it, retraumatizing Cecho and traumatizing everyone else.
“I would like to bleach my memory of that. Anyone else?” Kevin asks, you all second it.
“Anyway, how is your relationship with Lance going?” Nico asks, changing the subject.
“I caught them making out like teenagers yesterday,” Fernando grins devilishly, excited to gossip.
“Fernando! You can’t say that in front of my Husband!” you are thoroughly embarrassed still at Fernando catching you.
“Eglė said you can have Nico,” Kevin laughs. Nico’s wife, Eglė is fond of the young girl, often designing outfits for her. The pair is endeared by your childhood crush on Nico.
“Finally,” you smile, the group laughing at the joke. “Lance and I are doing very well, I think he is thinking about proposing,” you say a little scandalously.
“No way!” Daniel gasps. A knock on the door pauses the conversation.
“I heard there is an old drivers club happening?” Sebastian Vettel’s voice fills the room as he enters, flanked by two others. You quickly recognize Kimi and Nico Rosberg, an odd grouping that you brush off.
“Fernando, why is there a girl half your age here?” Kimi asks, not recognizing you out of your usual race attire. You are a little star struck, having looked up to Kimi as a young driver.
“I knew you got around, but damn Fernando,” Nico Rosberg says, you can’t help but to both blush and laugh.
“Guys, that’s literally Y/n Y/l/n, the driver,” Seb says, shaking his head.
“Oh, my bad, sorry Y/n,” Nico R says but all you can do is laugh.
“No, no, that’s okay, I needed a good laugh,” you wave the comment off as the older guys sit down.
“Any gossip on the retired part of the grid?” Valtteri asks, putting away the book on his lap.
“Gossip? What kind of club is this?” Kimi asks, a little confused.
“A book club,” your group responds in almost perfect unison.
“Oh! Have you read The Great Gatsby? I love that book,” Sebastian asks.
“We did! I also love the book,” you eagerly tell Seb. You check out a little when Nico R talks about Indycar and the other former F1 drivers that ended up there.
“He did what?” Lewis asks, bringing you back into the present, where they were talking about a retired driver.
“Alright, I need a new coffee,” you grunt a little as you stretch out of your sitting position. You feel a presence behind you as you use Haas’ shitty coffee machine. Your silently pray it isn’t your trainer here to kill you for having two cups.
“You ok?” Kimi asks, worried they made the girl uncomfortable.
“Yeah, just not used to being in the same room as my childhood idols,” you admit.
“And crushes? I was definitely your favorite,” Kimi uncharacteristically teases. You shyly nod and take a sip of the hot coffee.
“Do you have a mentor? I will teach you the Iceman ways,” Kimi says, he watches the race and sees your potential, plus he respects that you are voluntarily hanging with the older racers, learning from them. He shares some tips as they walk back to the room.
“Kimi, quit hogging our girl,” Daniel says, clearly having some sort of gossip update to share.
“It’s not my fault none of you offered to mentor her already,” Kimi grumbles, sitting beside Seb.
“Ugh, I have media. I’ll see you all later,” you groan, heading back to your motorhome to change.
“You’ve rubbed off on her already,” Lewis tells Kimi, laughing.
“Y/n, there have been rumors about a paddock book club that you started, can you comment?” a reporter asks as you sit on a couch beside George and Logan.
“No comment,” you say with a little smile, not wanting to answer anything not racing related.
“There is, I wasn’t invited. It’s her and a lot of the older drivers,” George says, and Logan tags in.
“She’s gets tired of us and decided that the older Paddock members were more enjoyable. I don’t blame her, that’s a lot of wisdom being shared,” Logan says, grinning at you.
“You are pretty new to F1, joining late last season. Has anyone offered to mentor you?” another reporter follows up the first question.
“Yes, just today actually. Thanks Kimi,” you say. “My driving is good enough anyway, I could beat George blindfolded. In fact, that’s why you aren’t allowed to join,” you roast George who seems to be holding back a laugh. Logan, however, doesn’t care and laughs for you.
“I don’t want to join anymore. Guys, if you are watching, take back what you have created. You all have rubbed off on her too much,” George lied a little, he’s still gonna try to join.
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Text
My baby, my baby…
Summary: Leon is a man pushing 40 and you’re a girl in her early 20s. You confessed your feelings but things went south.
Warning: age gap. literally any older version of Leon. reader is young. female reader. haha guess what? it’s sad again.
a/n: I love mitski <3 still mad I didn’t go to her concert. Guys I love writing, I feel like I’m god waiting for shit to happen. TEEHEE.🤭 also, should I make a part two with smut?
(pt.1) (pt.2)
“You're my baby, say it to me” - Mitski, I Bet On Losing Dogs
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You hated him. Well not really. You just hated the way he made you feel when you two were in the same room. Your heart beat faster and you felt your face grow hot. You had butterflies in your stomach every time he did something. And you felt stupid because he’s a man twice your age.
You did what you always think is best, avoid him. To which you failed miserably. You both worked on the same team on the DSO, of course you were bound to be next to him. It was as if the universe was mocking you. You couldn’t help but feel guilty. This man, poor innocent man, probably doesn’t know that he has someone so much younger after him. He must be worried about missions and not dying, while you were here crushing over him.
It didn’t help the way he would talk to you, distant but polite. He didn’t hate you, he just thought you were too young to experience such a miserable life the DSO puts on its agents. He wants you to live life. To be a normal girl in her early 20s. He wanted you to have the life he wished he had. He wished you would live your 21st year way differently than when he was 21.
But those thoughts remained unspoken. Neither of you actually spoke about anything besides work and missions. You tried to find excuses to talk to him but he would just stare at you in silence as you talked. He wasn’t mad, he just stood there. (Like this lol🧍‍♂️)
Professional and polite conversations turned into jokes. One time, during a meeting, you were sitting next to Leon and the poor man looked like he didn’t get an ounce of sleep. Chris was talking about some mission in Antarctica and Leon couldn’t help but grumble a stupid joke about all the penguin shit roaming around. It was such a stupid joke but you laughed. When Leon heard you laugh, he turned his head your direction and stared at you with a raised brow. He smirked to himself and laughed a little bit. It was funny to both of you.
From that moment, he became more warm towards you. When he saw you, he would nod at him. And you being you, a delusional lover, gushed about how much he is in love with you.
You managed to break the ice exterior he had because he would look at you with soft eyes every time you got near him.
-
But things changed when you confessed your feelings to him. The softness in his eyes disappeared and he looked at you with the same distant look he had. “I’m too old for you, y/n…” He spoke with a quiet but firm tone. The two of you were currently alone in some room inside the DSO building. You thought this was the perfect time to let your feelings out.
He took a step towards you and stood in front of you, “You should focus on someone your age, sweetheart,” He mumbled as he brought his hand to your face and brushed some strands of hair behind your ear. He then ran his hand down your cheek with a gentle touch. You couldn’t help but lean into it. His thumb gently grazes against your bottom lip as he ran his fingers around your side of your face.
You were upset, you wanted him despite the age gap. “Please… I only want you,” you whispered and leaned into the palm of his hand.
Leon stared at you and then sighed as he brought his hand down your chin to lift it up more. He wanted to see those beautiful eyes of yours, even if they began to show how sad you were. “It’s wrong for me to have you,” he whispered gently as he examines your face.
You felt your eyes become full of emotion, “It’s not fair…” your voice came out strained and barely audible, it was a miracle Leon still understood you.
"I know." Leon sighed, unable to keep himself from looking you with a soft look. You were his soft spot after all, "Trust me; nothing would please me more than to be with you..."
“Then let me have this one chance…please?” You begged with pleading eyes. "I shouldn't," he breathed, eyes traveling down to your lips before returning to scan your face, "It wouldn't be right for me to take advantage of you..."
“I want you to take advantage of me, to use me… I just want to be yours,” you whispered as your eyes shifted down to his lips and then back to his eyes.
"You're sure about this?" His breathing quickened as his eyelids drew heavy, his gaze locked onto the soft curve of your lips. You nodded, “I wouldn’t be asking you if I wasn’t sure,” you whispered as your hand intertwined with his.
He squeezed your hand, and with a slight shrug of his shoulders, he leaned down until your faces were just mere inches apart.
He breathed slowly, eyes scanning your gaze, "Promise me one thing..."
You stared at his eyes and nodded, “yeah?”
"Promise me..." He breathed out slowly, allowing himself to lean in closer to you until his breathing was near whisper. "...That you will not regret this.”
“I won’t,” you whispered as you closed your eyes and felt Leon's lips finally make contact with yours, kissing for the very first time. It was a gentle, tender caress that made your cheeks flush with color, his broad hands gently resting on your hips while the tips of his fingers grazed the skin of your waist. You brought your hands to his broad shoulders and rested them there. You felt your knees grow weak from the gentleness of the kiss. His lips felt so soft against yours, he tasted the flavor of your chapstick and he couldn’t help but love it even more.
He sighed against your lips as the gentleness of the kiss began to build into something more passionate. His lips pressed against yours firmly, a hand cupping your chin to keep your face closer. His lips parted slowly, urging your lips to part as well. When you felt his lips part and his tongue press on your bottom lip, you gasped and he dived his tongue right into your mouth. His tongue finally danced against your tongue, inviting a response back from you. Your grip on his shoulders increased ever so slightly as you moaned in the kiss, sending the vibrations to his tongue as both your tongues danced passionately.
He moaned softly in response, his hands sliding around to your back once more holding you as close to him as he could. His tongue continued to swirl around your mouth, gently sucking at your bottom lip. His hold on you was strong and firm, a silent command to stay pressed against him. His hold on you only grew stronger as he kept you pressed up against his body. A hand ran through your hair, keeping your head held in place. His tongue and lips continued the dance of teasing and pleasing, your own lips responding in kind. The passion built within his embrace, his breath growing labored and his heart beating rapidly against his chest. It felt so surreal.
You moved your hands down to his chest and gently pulled back to catch your breath. You panted as you tried to breathe and remain focused. Your brain felt mushy from how good the kiss was. You finally got the chance to taste his lips.
His lips parted from yours, and he breathed out slowly, his breathing rapid and throat parched. His hand slid to your lower back as he kept you pressed close to him. He brushed a few stray strands of hair from your face, then gently tucked it back behind your ear. "Are you ok?" He whispered, voice still strained, but his body relaxing slightly.
You nodded and breathed out a small “yes,”
Leon let his grip on you loosen slightly, allowing a small distance to form between the two of you. He brushed the side of your face, and his hand moved to grasp yours.
"Good," He whispered slowly, his gaze falling to your lips, "So very good..." he sighed and let his hand slid back down your back before letting go, "Forgive me if I got a little carried away..." He took in a deep breath, his voice now returning to a normal tone, "I've wanted to do that for a very long time..."
You eyes nestled bulged out of their sockets after he said that, “You did?” You asked softly in disbelief.
He nodded slowly, his gaze flicking between yours, “Yes. Ever since the moment we first met, I was attracted to you, even though I knew it was wrong. I wanted you, wanted to hold you close, kiss you, and make you mine…” his eyes growing distant, "I've wanted you..." He took a deep breath, then gently caressed your chin with a hand, his lips gently grazing your forehead.
You closed your eyes and felt the softness of his lips plant a kiss on your forehead. A gesture so gentle and soft it could bring anyone to their knees.
He breathed out slowly, closing his eyes for a second before opening them to peek at you through his lids. He raised a brow and sighed, adjusting the hold on your chin to gently tip your head up.
"But as I said, I'm too old for you," he brushed his fingers across your jawline, "And I fear that our relationship would be met with judgment and ridicule..." he looked at you with saddened eyes. He wished he could kiss you anytime, to be with you in public and not have to worry about the judgment. In his eyes, you were the most beautiful woman to ever step foot on earth. It was sad, really. How much love he had for you but he hid it for your sake. He loves you so much he didn’t want you to get hurt.
You furrowed your brows together and looked at him with those sad eyes of yours. But his heart ached the most with the strain of your voice, “I don’t care what anyone says…”
"But you should," he replied softly, "You're still young... You should find someone closer to your age,” he caressed your cheek once again as he looked into your eyes "What about your family?" He sighed, "What if your parents disagree with us? They'd say that I'm taking advantage of you and manipulating you because you're young..."
“Leon, please, I’m an adult. I can make my own choices…” you whispered with a sad tone, “I don’t care if you’re 20 years older than me. I want you… dare I say I love you…”
Leon fell silent as your words sank into him. He froze in place, for a few moments, he was speechless, his facial expressions shifting through multiple emotions.
"Love me?" He whispered, leaning down towards you, "Y/n… you don’t love me. You love the idea of me you have in your head.” He whispered softly as he caressed your cheek once again. His voice so soft and tender and full of sadness.
Your throat was caught up into a knot. Did you screw things over already? Or were they already screwed up before this began?
You bit your bottom lip to contain the threatening tears that were about to spill. He saw this and gently brought his thumb over to the corner of your eyes and wiped them for you.
“I love you…” you nodded and felt your eyes get glossy, “I love you, Leon…” you whispered, “This feeling I have… it’s controlling me. I can’t breathe when I’m not with you. I need you…”
“Don’t cry, angel,” he whispered as he kissed your forehead again and gave you a sad smile. “How do you know this is not just infatuation?”
You stared into his blue eyes deeply, “Because I’ve never felt this way towards anyone before..”
His eyes were locked onto yours, a million thoughts running through his head. As much as he wanted to be with you, this was never meant to happen. You’re way too young. You needed someone else, someone better than him. He sighed and looked out the window. What was once a sunny day became a rainy one. He looked back down at you.
"Go home, y/n…" he whispered.
He let go of your face and took a step back. You watched him go with sad eyes, you wanted to chase after him so badly but you felt frozen in place. It was bittersweet. You got the kiss you wanted but at the cost of him leaving you.
You sniffled and cried silently as you walked out of the building and to the bus stop. You put on your headphones and began to listen to some music while you watched the raindrops race down the window.
Leon watched you from the second floor window. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart. He knew you’d cry but he couldn’t let you get too attached to someone like him. He was broken, never meant to be fixed again. While you were everything. In another universe, maybe the two of you could’ve been together.
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a-small-safe-place · 5 months
Text
Then, Nothing.
Yandere Cullen family
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A/N: Renesmee is a platonic yandere. The rest of the Cullens are romantic yanderes for you, but it is mostly centered on Bella and Edward right now.
You met Renesmee in a park. You were babysitting a child for a family, and she happened to approach you. This child looked too grown to be the age she said but also looked too young to be anything older, and something about her was off-putting in an uncanny valley way. However, something compelled you to engage with her. She said she did not want to play with any of the other children. Renesmee said they were too ingenuous. That seemed like too big of a word for such a little girl. She talked your ear off, though. She said she does not "talk" much at home, and that it is easier just to be not verbal. That worried you; was this child being abused and forced to stay silent at home? Who even were her parents?
As if on cue, a very beautiful man and woman approached. They looked too young to be the girl’s parents, but also too similar to her to not be her parents. They were also more inhuman in appearance than Renesemee. The mom, Bella, was more welcoming than Renesmee’s father, Edward, who chose to remain standoffish.
Bella smiled and told you, “Renesmee doesn’t usually talk to people besides her family; you must be special.” Her tone sounded as if she had been flirting with you. You chose to ignore it. Maybe just because she was so inhumanly beautiful made it seem like she was flirting. “I don’t know about how special I am, but your daughter is certainly unique; she seems so bright for her age.”
Edward finally spoke up, but in a flat and uninterested tone, “she is; we are very proud.” An awkward silence settled over the area. Thankfully, the child you had been babysitting came up ready to go home.
You began to see them more and more around town. It seemed as if Renesmee could sniff you out in a second if she happened to be in the same area as you. You were relieved that you did not live in the area and lived in a part of town that was in a much lower tax bracket. If you did live in the area, it would not be surprising if Bella, Renesemee, or even Edward showed up at your doorstep. Edward was the most normal out of the three. Bella’s behavior was nice, but something about it felt awkward with a sinister undertone. If she looked different, it would seem more sincere, but something about all three of them made you want to run away as fast as you could despite their beauty. A driver for the family that you babysat for had seen them when picking up you and the child and joked that Bella and Edward were probably related given that they looked similar. He loved to gossip and asked you a million questions about them. You shuddered at the idea. That could explain why their daughter was so peculiar, but wouldn’t incest result in more physical deformities and not just strange behavior from a child? Even if they were related, they did not seem to be that close, definitely not siblings. Everything about them seemed the same but also different.
You tried your best not to think too much about it, but it got to the point where you would see at least one of them anytime you were out on that side of town. You were fine trying to avoid them; each time your excuse was along the lines of “oh they need this kiddo back home!” or some other similar response. That is until you ended up getting fired. The mom refused to say why, and she reacted in disgust when she saw you. Before this, both of the parents enjoyed having you as their sitter. It was a harsh dismissal. You decided to stop by the grocery store before going home. You needed something, anything, to make you feel better about your loss of work, and with the influence your last family had in the community, it was clear you would not be babysitting for a while. Or so you thought.
“Hello,” Edward’s voice sounded from behind you. He did not seem happy to be there. “Sorry,” You mumbled, scooting out of the way, assuming you were in front of something he needed. “I have a job for you,” He said cryptically. You turned around to face him feeling confused. Edward continued to talk. “It will pay well. I know you take care of children, and I wanted to take Bella somewhere on a date, and we do not have a sitter for Renesmee, and she has warmed up to you.”
“You want me to babysit?” You asked somewhat dumbly causing him to smile a bit and chuckle. “Yes, she has warmed up to you, and Bella thinks you are trustworthy. The only catch is that you have to care for her at our home. You may not leave when you are watching her, even if you have an emergency.” You weren't a fan of that stipulation, but you figured they would allow you to call them to come back in a dire situation.
“Okay, fine. When do I need to be there, and is this going to be a regular thing?” You asked. He seemed a little irritated that you're asking these questions. “Tonight. You will start now. It will be a regular job. You can follow me out to our house.”
You arrived at his and Bella’s home. It looked like it was designed by the best architect. Renesmee greeted you outside. “You're here! We are going to have so much fun! Come one! Come meet my family.” As she is dragging you in, Edward is driving away. He did not even mention when they will be back or how much you were getting paid exactly. He was probably making sure you would not take the money and leave. There are people inside. Four people, two guys, and two girls sit on the couch and sofa. You hear a few people in the kitchen. “These are my aunts and uncles! That's Uncle Emmett and Aunt Rosalie; they are married, and then Aunt Alice and Uncle Jasper; they are married too. My Grandma Esme and Grandpa Carlisle are in the kitchen. Grandma wanted to make dinner for you… I mean us.” Two of them smile at you, the two dark-haired ones. The two blondes look mad and somewhat disgusted. This is weird. You have never babysat with people around. Why could the family not watch Renesmee? She seemed to like them just as much as you. Renesmee pulls you into the kitchen. Her grip is surprising for a little girl. A blonde man and a woman with caramel-colored hair are cooking. They look far too young to be a grandma and grandpa. Something about all of these people seems so familiar. As if you have seen them before. Not just on the rich side of town but on the poor side of town too, in your neighborhood. They both introduce themselves and clearly know your name as they greet you. “Are you hungry?” Esme asks, handing you a plate of food. It smells divine, but this has to be a trap. Most families prefer you not to eat a bunch on the job.
Renesmee grabs a plate and begins to eat. “It's so good! Grandma worked hard on it! You have to try it!” It is impossible to say no to her for some reason. You take a plate and take a few bites. It tastes wrong. There are hints of good flavor, but it is heavily covered up by the taste of medicine. The gravity of the situation hits you. “I need to excuse myself; I need a bathroom break.” The shakiness in your voice is clear. You pretend to go to the restroom, but book it to the door when you're out of sight. You see your keys are missing; even your phone has disappeared from your pocket. You step outside only to see your car missing. Suddenly you're grabbed from behind. This person is very strong but knows how to hold someone down without injuring them. You're stuck with a needle. Your life does not flash before your eyes, but each time you've seen these freaks in public flashes in your mind as your vision spins. A wave of calm lays over you. It is unwelcome because it feels unnatural, but it is too comforting for you to care as your vision goes in and out. You see some flashes of memories that do not belong to you. They are from a lower angle, so it has to be from Renesmee's mind. It is Carlisle assuring her that you are going to be safe because they all love you as much as she does.
Then, nothing. You're out like a light.
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theemporium · 5 months
Note
🧸 Lando's baby being a music lover just like their mum!!! (i love music everything, playing, singing, making GIMME EVERYTHING) also ilysm cece, you're such an angel
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
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It became clear at a young age that little Margot Norris adored music.
It never mattered the song or the artist or the genre of music, any form of it seemed to calm her down in a way that seemed like a miracle when it came to babies. Lando had made countless jokes that it was because of all the different genres you would listen to when you were pregnant. He joked that she had spent most of her time inside you being surrounded by music that only followed her into her own life. 
He joked but it wasn’t really a joke. 
Margot Norris was a carbon copy of you with her love for music. She seemed to take after her mother in the way she craved it, the way she desired it, the way she gravitated towards it. And it made Lando’s heart clench so tight in his chest, he thought it was going to explode. 
“Daddy likes music too,” he spoke to the baby in his lap as he set up the control board in front of him. “Daddy used to be a DJ, you know? People loved it, honey. They went crazy for my music.”
Margot babbled like she understood what he said. 
Lando grinned widely. “Yeah, exactly. You get it, smarty pants. And look, Daddy still has all his old equipment he can teach you.” 
Whilst he knew Margot was still far too young to show any understanding in the words or instructions he was giving her as a six month old, it still warmed his heart to watch her reach for the same buttons he just pressed like it was a game. It made him feel like her music obsession was a little bit of him too.
“What are you doing?”
It almost made you laugh the way both of their heads snapped up at the sound of your voice. 
“I’m making my girl a DJ prodigy,” Lando said proudly as he glanced down at the baby in his lap, her head tilting back to look at him. “Isn’t that right, honey? M’gonna make you the next Steve Aoki.”
You snorted. “What if she wants to do classical music?”
“I bet that can be DJ-ed too,” Lando said with a shrug of his shoulders before he leaned down to press chaste kisses on Margot’s chubby cheeks. “You are gonna be the best DJ this world has ever seen.” 
“So you’ve already given up on making her a racer?” You teased as you wandered deeper into the room, taking a seat by Lando beside all of his DJ equipment surrounding him on the floor.
“Of course not,” Lando scoffed. “She just needs a hobby until she’s old enough to go in a kart.”
You shook your head, though you were smiling. “A DJ prodigy and a racing prodigy,” you mused as you let out a low whistle. “We’ve made a daughter with many talents.”
Lando puffed his chest. “She gets it from me.” 
You rolled your eyes. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, baby.” 
“I thought a good wife was meant to further her husband’s delusion.”
“Not this time, babe.”
.
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etfrin · 4 months
Text
❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter four | coriolanus snow
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「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | Coryo being Coryo, elitism, panic attack (nothing too graphic), mentions of death, mentions of blood (just a tiny bit), male masterbation near the end of the chapter | lmk if i forgot anything
「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 they meet up in the library, Coryo has a panic attack, and low-key has issues 💀 but hey, he fucks his fist in the end of the chapter also let's his paranoia win lmao
「ᴀ/ɴ:」 reposting this!! Hope y'all like it!
beta read by @nowitsmissing
series masterlist | navigation | previous chapter
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You didn't disappoint.
He couldn't help the heavyweight leaving his chest, his shoulders relaxing and his face in a smile (which he quickly hides) as he sees you. You were sitting on a chair, a stack of books in front of you, parchments all over the table, cookies in a box and you were writing something with your pen.
Was it instinct? Was it the bond? He will never know but you look up and meet his gaze. Your eyes narrowed at him, for being late he reasoned but he noticed that you relaxed as well, your body nearly sagging into the chair.
“You're late,” you greet him as he sits across from you. He shrugged, his eyes looking at the cookie and he ignored the clench of his stomach. He had cabbage soup again for dinner, the tasteless veggie didn't do anything to satisfy his hunger. It served as a reminder instead of why he needed to win the Plinth Prize.
He replied, “Death does that.” He tried to keep his voice sad yet composed. How sad could one be when you lose a family who is poison with perfect teeth.
“Should have stayed at home to mourn then.”
“I plan to do that at the funeral.”
Your eyes meet his briefly when you hear his answer, he notices that your eyes are red. Like it would be when you're crying. He couldn't wrap his mind around why you would be crying. Arachne was never a friend to you, a district girl, if anything you were the one who received most of her scorn. And yet you were with tears in your eyes, instead of him, a Capitol boy, someone with the same blood as hers.
What does that say about him?
“I plan to do the same too… She's family after all.”
Not yours. He wanted to reply but didn't. He gave you a nod and went back to his work. Ignoring the way your hand subtly (not so much) wiped the tear away from your cheek, and the growl of his stomach when he smelled the chocolate chip cookies sitting right in front of him.
Hours bleed and both of you were still working with minimal talking. He wanted to ask what you were so diligently reading and jolting down. His mind is plaguing him with the fact that you have better ideas than him. You seemed well prepared enough with all of the books that were left open around you.
You make a soft humming noise, “Your father was a co-founder of the Hunger Games.” You chuckled, though Coriolanus didn't know what was funny. “And here you're writing a proposal on how to improve the Games. Like father, like son.”
You give him a small smile. And then it turns into a frown when you notice that the cookies remain untouched. “I made these for us, ya know. I promise that they don't have cyanide in them. You can try but no promises if it's good or not. As the cook I am biased but I would love your opinion.”
His lips quirked up at your joke. You always had an uncanny sense of humor and you were never hesitant to showcase. He was glad to finally have permission to taste those mouth-watering cookies. “Thank you,” he manages to reply cordially as he takes a cookie for himself to munch on.
Your eyes were innocently wide as you watched him eat the cookie. You had stopped your writing, the quill resting on the side of your proposal. He realized that you were waiting for his comment, waiting for his approval. And he squirmed in his seat as he realized that you were hanging onto his words for something as simple as a cookie.
“It’s delicious,” he said, his tongue licking his lips to get the remaining cookie crumbs. He smiled a smile that wasn't calculated like every one of his interactions with his peers were. He smiled a smile reserved for a soulmate he couldn't have.
He sees your grin when you hear his opinion. Your face brightens up and you give your attention back to your work with vigor. It made Coriolanus realize your confidence was a facade, just like his perfection was. There was a certain joy in knowing that for Coryo.
And the bonus point is the fact that you asked for his opinion on nearly everything since childhood, even after getting closer with Sejanus, it's his approval you sought.
It was such a heady feeling that always fed to his ego and calmed his mind down from jealousy. Even if your proposal was better than his, in the end, it didn't matter if he simply lied to your face about it.
Soon, he was over with his proposal. The cookies were now finished and his body filled with the rare satisfaction of not having an empty stomach. He looks at you and sees that you are revising your written proposal now.
He bites his tongue to distract his mind from the fact of how pretty you looked like this. Your lips parted, your eyes focused (will it be focused on him like that if he ever kissed you, or will your eyes glaze over with pleasure?). He hated how he felt at that moment, like a teenage boy with a crush.
He decided to distract himself with something better. Your proposal. “I check yours. You check mine?” He suggested, quirking his eyebrow for an extra measure to convince you.
You frown for a moment and he has to fist his hand to make sure he doesn't come forward and smooth the wrinkles away. “Sure,” you reluctantly agree, a hint of hesitation clear in your eyes.
“What?” He smirks, leaning forward a bit (close, close, but too far). “Afraid I will steal your ideas?” He asked his tone just a tiny bit condescending.
You looked down. Backing away from his challenging gaze, taking the fun out of it. “More like you'll laugh at my face,” you muttered.
Now it was his time to frown.
“That was one time.”
“One time too many,” you replied.
And then you add, “Give me yours first, and then if I like it I will give you mine.”
He grits his teeth, already knowing that your district stubbornness won't have you backing away. “Fine,” he said and he held the assignment in front of you. Yours for the taking.
Your fingers brush his as you take over the papers. The touch sends an electric jolt down his spine as he retrieves his hand back quickly. His breaths are shallow and cheeks burning, eyes diverted away from yours as the soulmate bond flares up.
It happens rarely, often in the comfort of his home that he feels his need for you. Like an addict. His need to be close to you, his need to hold, kiss, and love you.
It's a phenomenon restricted to those who try to reject their partners despite knowing who they are. And what better example was for that than Coriolanus Snow.
He could feel the blood rush. A high that was crashing, and he was the urge to just fuck it. Fuck you, claim you against the shelves, kiss you. Something, anything that would calm his baser instincts. But it didn't work like that.
He wasn't a District animal, he was a Capitol boy and he won't be losing control in this manner.
But he was so close to it and the worst part of it all? You weren't even doing anything except reading his paper, your shoulders relaxed as you leaned back in your chair. Your tongue peeking out to lick your dry lips, as you flick over the next page.
One of your hands on the table and your fingers tapping an unknown tune on the wood of the table. It was overwhelming. He felt his senses going haywire and he needed to be away, alone from you.
He stood up, ignoring the sound of a chair scratching the expensive floor. “I'll be back,” he said, his mind anxious but his face had no expression whatsoever. You didn't even look at him, just nodded, and that somehow frustrated him.
‘Look at me,’ he wanted to yell, ‘Look at the state I am in because of you.’
But he didn't, so he rushed to the bathroom. Closing the stall with the lock, and pulling down the lid so he could sit on it. He takes in deep breath, pulling his sleeves up as he begins to feel his legs shake, tapping the tiles with a tic, tic noise. He begins to pay attention to the noise more than his chaos of the mind, letting everything simply fade away as his breathing gets to normal. It takes a while, his shirt now sweaty clinging to his skin, and his curls now messed with his hands constantly running through it. But he was feeling better now, despite his throat being parched.
After washing his face several times in the sink, he gets himself outside of the bathroom. He frowns when he notices the time. He was there for nearly twenty minutes. Embarrassing, how was he going to explain that? Fuck.
Turns out he didn't have to because you were gone. He feels bewildered as he reads the note you left on the table.
‘Had to go! Will submit your proposal along with mine by tonight!’
He grits his jaw, he hadn't permitted you to do such a thing. Even though a part of him did feel grateful that he wouldn't have to walk the extra mile to submit his work. He still felt angry though, and it wasn't admittingly your fault.
But you were the cause of it. And with the current circumstances, it's not like he could punish you for it. He wanted to, there's no denying that.
When he reaches home, his anger boils, waiting to be spilled around those around him. Grandma'am was asleep, he ignored Tigris when she had sweetly asked if you were present. He locked his bedroom door, it was a miracle he hadn't slammed it shut.
He was mad. He was frustrated, so much so that he couldn't explain. He lets out a growl, his hands in a fist, as if he wasn't sure that the wall would break had he punched it. He would have.
You weren't a drug (you were). He wasn't an addict (he was).
So why did he crave you so much? Why just a few moments alone with you has him in ruin?
‘District, district,’ he repeats in his mind, ‘You’ll never be Capitol. No matter how many proposals you write to damn your people. No matter how much money you have, or how many years you have lived in the Capitol.’
Even when he was lying on his bed, his breath was labored, his skin too hot. He couldn't stop replying to the time he had spent with you today. It was impossible not to.
You were so you.
Perfect. Flawed. Beautiful. Horrible. Everything and nothing. You made him feel like he had fire in his heart but he was a Snow. It was so jarring.
He was simply a teenage boy, and you made everything so complicated just by existing. You made him hot, burning, and fuck, he hated how he felt right now. That the anger melted away but the fire didn't. That the blood rushed from his head to his cock. He couldn't help it.
It's your fault that you made him succumb to this state. It's in you that he had one of his hands under his blanket, his eyes shut, his teeth digging into the flesh of his lower lip. He muffled a whine, as he gripped his hard cock.
The pain he felt as he bit his lips couldn't compare to the relief that came as he slowly began to stroke his cock. He strokes it slowly, savoring the sin he was indulging himself in. When he felt blood in his mouth from how hard he had bit himself, he used his free hand to muffle his soft groans instead.
He felt so boyish as he continues to fuck into his fist now, his hips rolling upwards as he continues. His pre-cum coating his length and acting as the lube. His thumb rubs against his sensitive, leaking cockhead. It makes him groan so loud that for a moment he feels like Tigris has heard.
He stops for a moment, his breathing heavy as he waits to hear footsteps. He doesn't hear one and sighs in relief. He begins to stroke his dick again, this time the pace quick and rough. His other hand wandered down his body to cup his balls, his face buried into his flimsy pillow, his teeth biting onto it. His saliva dampens the pillow, creating a wet stain that he would later feel embarrassed about.
He whines into the pillow, wanting to cum. He was so close, he just needed… needed…
You.
“Fuck! Fuck!” He groans and then moans your name as the mere thought of you has him cumming. His eyes roll back and he gasps, his blanket ruined. His cheeks burn as he realizes the cycle he's in but he couldn't care less when his bones are jelly and his mind is filled with euphoria.
When he did come back to his senses, he didn't let his shame overwhelm him. Instead, he changed his sheets, the stained ones in the laundry basket (it was his turn to wash tomorrow). He sat in front of his desk, ignoring how early light seemed to be sweeping into the room from the window. He takes out some parchment, quill, and ink.
He begins to write.
Just in case, you steal his work.
No point in trusting someone from the district, right?
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NEXT PART
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daisydaisybilly · 6 months
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How about a request where Anthony is head over heels for the reader because of her motherly nature. First, he sees how she would play with Daphne’s son, and he just feels how great it’s like to be taken care of (like the reader would take care of him when he’s sick and help him with all the family duties) since all this time he took care of his siblings. The Bridgertons (and Simon) sees how in love Anthony is with the reader and they help with the proposal plan.
falling for ya | a.b
pairing: anthony bridgerton x gn!reader
warnings: none just fluff
word count: 1.2k
a/n: this has took me an embarrassing amount of time to get to but here it is! Anthony being an idiot in love
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The season was over and you had been invited to the Bridgerton country home, Aubrey Hall. At this time in the year it was just the family and close friends. Eloise had invited her close friend, Penelope Featherington. Your invite had come from Benedict, you had met him at the Royal Academy of Art and became fast friends.
Of course you knew that his and your own families wished for an offer, your own mama was sure you’d come home with such news but it wouldn’t happen. He was a friend and nothing more. Besides, you were in love with his older brother.
Over the course of your friendship, you had also grown closer to the other Brigerton siblings, and their own children.
Small giggled laugher followed you, as you ran across the lawn, you turned seeing two small Bassett children running after you on small chubby legs, both holding small play swords. “You’ll never catch me” You declared, waving your own sword in the air.
The laughing increased, as they hit back.
You gave a cry of dismay and carried on running, over by the house, under the refreshment tent, the older siblings sat, the children were off begging Violet for something sweet.
“They’re quite good with them, don't you think?” Daphne asked the others, Simon gave an agreeable nod. Benedict and Colin were too busy in an argument over something unimportant, Eloise and Penelope were discussing the latest Lady Whistledown. 
Anthony though was watching with alarming personal interest, he had never seen you in this light before, you were Benedict’s art friend. Always off with him painting or looking at paintings or discussing paintings. 
Then he saw himself as a young boy, playing with his siblings when he carried the weight of everything on him. He had never blamed them for that, he loved his family with all his heart. But he couldn’t deny how he’d like to be taken care of for once. 
For the first time, he longed to fall ill, nothing series of course, just a head cold or something like that. Where you would sit by his bedside, reading to him and holding a cold cloth to his head. Maybe you’d sit by his bed and draw. 
Just this morning, very early in the morning, he had left the house to have a walk through the gardens and had found you sitting on the wet grass, in your dressing gown and slippers. Coloured pencil spread across the ground around you, on your lap the most beautiful sunrise he had ever seen. 
Anthony felt a blush spread across his neck. 
The day he had first met you, you had been a bundle of nerves. Meeting his family had been the easy part but the head of the household, meant moving up. He had made some comment or joke over dinner and  you laughed and laughed. 
And then there was that time, he had run into you in the park. 
With a cousin, the second you spotted him you beelined for him, leaving your poor cousin to tail behind.
Then at the last ball of the season, his mother had made him dance with you, he believed your mother did the same to you. The whole dance you played a game where he and you would guess what the other couples were discussing and the way you smiled when you had made him laugh.
By god he loved you, he, Anthony Bridgerton, he who swore he’d never love, had fallen in love with you. 
“I give in, I give in” you exhaled, dropping the sword, the children giggled, you picked up a glass of lemonade, “God they can run fast on those little legs”.
The others laughed, Simon seemed to straighten his back with pride, Daphne was looking at Anthony smirking. Someone at the house called your name, “Dear, a letter for you has just arrived”
“It will be from my mama” you roll your eyes, “Better hurry and write something back”. You left the group and thanked Violet. 
The second you had entered the house, Daphne grabbed her brother so fast he jumped, “You’re in love with them, aren’t you! I knew it”.
Anthony blushed harder, failing to speak, Colin and Benedict looked uninterested. Then Anthony realised he was the last to know. Each one of his siblings knew and  just didn’t care enough to tell him. 
After afternoon tea you had found the most puzzling note, attached to your door. Asking you to meet someone in the gardens. 
Across the grass was a blanket and two drawing pads, “Hello?” you called out. As you walked closer you found Anthony waiting, “Anthony?” you asked, kneeling to sit beside him, “What is this?”.
He smiled, handing you a pad and some pencils, “Let’s call it a private art lesson”.
“Why not ask your brother?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell him I said this but you’re the better artist”.
A warm feeling spread across your face and down your neck, you flipped open the pad, “Well draw something and we’ll see what needs work”. 
You looked up from your drawing, Anthony was frowning, the pencil working hard, it was sweet you had to admit.
“No no its…..” you gave up, you think he tried to draw a flower, “It’s a start” you smiled. 
“What did you draw?” he asked.
Damn
You hadn’t planned on showing him, you didn’t plan on showing everyone, but he was looking at you and waiting and it just felt rude not to. Slowly and feeling more heat all over, you turned the pad around. 
“Is that me?” he asked.
You closed the pad hard, “It means nothing.. You were there and- I” you couldn’t find the right words and felt more flushed as you went on. 
“It’s beautiful, you’re beautiful” 
Your mouth dropped open. 
“I know this may seem like it’s coming out of nowhere but I didn’t know how I felt until now. You see I have felt something for you ever since you laughed at my joke during the first dinner, and then today when I saw you playing with Daphens children it made me see things for how they really are”
Your mouth was still open, his words coming as a complete shock but not unwanted. He was everything you could want, he made you laugh, he talked with you with real interest not the half listening other men did, he was an amazing dancer and now this, trying to do something you loved.
His art was poor but still he had tried for this moment. 
He said your name and you swore your heart skipped. “I- I did not mean to overstep”
“Anthony” you smiled. 
He looked hopeful, “yes?”.
“I think I should be the one saying that” you said, unable to stop grinning. 
“Yes?”.
“Yes!” 
You leaped into his arms, he caught you right away. 
Without a second thought you kissed him, falling deeper into love with him. 
After the kiss and the ones that followed, you lay in his arms. “We’ll have to thank everyone, they helped set this up” Anthony said. 
“Benedict will call himself cupid until the end of time” you laughed. 
Anthony linked his hand with yours, “As long as I’m with you, I can face my brother”.
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